Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Sorry I didn't update for a long time, guys. But I'm sure you will like that chapter. Because that's my longest chapter so far.

Enjoy ;)

Hours left until the wedding: 24
Miles left until Venice: 220

"Someone doesn't want me to make it to that wedding."

Kurt had gone to the small shop of the train station. Mercedes and Sam stood next to the entrance, not knowing what to do, so she thought about alternate plans (throwing themselves in front of the next train among others).

But Sam didn't seem to listen, he was busy sending texts with his phone – probably to Jasmine. Mercedes wondered what he texted her.

I'm stuck in the middle of nowhere with a snotty dressmaker and a crazy American woman.
I will probably never see you again…

"Sam?"

He didn't look up. "Hm?"

"That's probably the right timing for apologizing to you."

"Forget it", he said but still wasn't looking at her.

"If you hadn't been so…well, nice, you could have sat in the train to Venice. Kurt and I could have driven back alone to get the dress."

He sighed and finally looked at her. "Yes, maybe. I admit, it's irksome. But what kind of person would I be if I let you alone in this situation?"

"Kurt was there", Mercedes sighed and quickly regretted having said it because Sam looked back to his phone again. "What I wanted to say, was…well…you are…" She went silent. What was he? He was adorable. Kind. And without a doubt, annoyed by this situation, but tried not to show it. He was just awesome.

"Whatever", Sam commented after a while and spared Mercedes to end her sentence.

"So…" Mercedes desperately searched for something else to say. "We already established that there are no rental cars at this place, at least none, that are open on a Sunday, right?"

"Yup."

"And there is no bus either."

"No bus that will bring us to Venice before Christmas."

"Yes."

Mercedes looked around. It was dead silent in that town, only a few cars passed them, as well as a bus and a man with a dog.

"This is going to be the most expensive taxi ride in the history", she concluded.

"But I can't see any taxis", Sam said with a frown.

"Great."

Kurt went out of the shop, his face was hidden behind a giant map of Italy which he must have bought now. Not saying anything, he joined the duo and continued staring at the map.

"It's too far away to walk to Venice.", Sam commented dryly.

Kurt just nodded, still staying silent.

"At least, we would advance", Mercedes thought out loud.

Since they had no better idea, they started walking towards the center of the city. An icy wind made Mercedes freeze, and she looked over to Sam's warm knit sweater that made her smile.

Well. Fashion – Zero points. Ugly sweater – One point.

They took turns in carrying the giant dress bag, but Mercedes was aware that they couldn't continue like that for a long time. She was about to suggest taking a break when she spotted something on the estate next to them.

"Guys!", she exclaimed. "Look!"

It was a tiny car with rusty patches on the fenders and a big plaque on its window, saying: "Vendita. 150 Euro."

"That's probably broken, and its owner parked it here to keep the birds away from the grain field.", Sam theorized.

"But there is no grain field. Just look at it closer." Mercedes looked hopeful while Sam scratched his head.

"For rent?"

Mercedes noticed that he quickened his pace. "No way, Mercedes. They are kidding! I would need to amputate my legs to get into that tiny thing."

"Do you have a better idea?", she asked him, hands on her hips.

Kurt frowned. "I need to admit, it's kind of…chic, in a quite old-fashioned way." He scratched his chin. "But still no. There is no way anyone sees me in that car. That's out of question."

Mercedes and Sam exchanged glances. Without saying anything, Mercedes put down her bags and went over to the lodge nearby, knocking on its door.

They were lucky. The young ginger man who opened the door was indeed the owner of the car. Even though he was surprised at first, he was a good businessman. He retrieved the keys and the car documents in no time and explained to Mercedes how the car worked. Unfortunately, Mercedes' Italian was kind of rusty, she only understood a couple of words.

"He said that there is some work to do on the car", she shouted to the other guys. "Does anyone know something about car engines?"

"A little", Sam said, rubbing his neck. "But only with those of motorbikes."

"Yes, indeed", Kurt commented "My dad was a mechanic. Shall I have a look at it?"

"Oh, was he?", Mercedes asked surprisedly, instantly feeling ashamed for having asked. Why the hell shouldn't his dad be a mechanic? "That's great!"

The went to the estate while the owner explained something about a "belt", Sam opened the engine hood and Kurt had a look at it.

"Well, first, that car needs a new V-belt", he announced without touching the rusty vehicle. "Could we get one?"

"Wait a minute", the car owner said and walked over to the barn next to his house. Mercedes could hear how he opened another engine bonnet.

"He takes the V belt from another car", she whispered. "Whether that will work?"

Kurt shrugged. "Let's try."

Skeptical, Sam eyed the car and shook his head disdainfully.

"It's no Lamborghini", Mercedes said "But we couldn't afford one anyway."

"Seems to be okay, more or less", he commented "But I still think that thing is a mini death trap."

"Says the guy with the snowmobile", Mercedes teased him. Sam grinned, and she noticed how her cheeks heated up weirdly.

The owner returned, triumphantly waving with his V belt. "Money, please."

So Mercedes retrieved her wallet and started counting the bills.

"We should share the costs, right?", Sam said insecurely.

"I got it" Mercedes needed to add some coins as well before she could give him the sum, and the man gave the V-belt and the car keys to-Sam.

Intolerable!

"Thanks", Sam said when the man turned around and wished them a nice day "But as you have noticed, the lady over here paid it, I didn't."

"So much for equality" Mercedes scowled.

Sam wanted to give the V belt to Kurt. "Would you be so nice?"

"No, I'm afraid", Kurt muttered. "Don't you know that engine oil stays on the skin for days? Tomorrow, I need to make the last adjustments on Miss Coralee's dress – if we ever make it to Venice – so you need to do it."

"Oh, good argument", Mercedes agreed. "Engine oil on a dress would be disastrous."

"You need to open the cowling", Kurt explained, pointing at the spot on the engine. "You can just screw it off."

"Okay", Sam muttered and bent down. "Dammit, that's tough. I'm sorry, but motorbikes are entirely different from that scrapheap."

"And so am I", Kurt sighed. He shoved Sam to the side and rolled up his sleeves. "Forget the oil. What kind of designer would I be if I didn't do everything for the bride? Otherwise, I could as well drive back to Paris."

…

He leaned over the engine bonnet. Mercedes was sure having heard him mutter "Verona", but maybe, he was just not used to everything beyond the Parisian Boulevard or the Province of Yorkshire and thought that the rest of Europe was an eyesore…

"Do you need help?", she asked Kurt "I'm good at following instructions."

"No", Kurt answered without turning away from the engine. "I'm fine. Let's just hope it works."

At that moment, Mercedes' phone rang, showing her her mother's name on the display.

"Mom!", she said "You have no idea what is going on here."

"Hello, darling, is everything okay?"

"You sound terrible", Mercedes noticed "Did you just get up?"

Her mother stayed silent for a while. "I'm fine, thanks", she said eventually. "Everything was just so adventurous."

"You too? Well, we have been on the way with a plane, a snowmobile and a post van. And now, we are about to get into the tiniest old car you have ever seen-if it still can drive. We are in Domodossola, unbelievable, right?"

"Domodossola?", her mom repeated. "I'm in Milano, so you are not that far away from me…"

Her mom was where? She was supposed to arrive in Venice days ago. "Milano? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Well…I had to do a couple of things."

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "One day before the wedding? What has been so important for you to drive to Milano?"

"I…erm, nothing, nothing", she answered evasively. "But now, everything is done, and I'm tired."

Mercedes knew how her mom was feeling. That giant celeb wedding was the most stressful event she ever had seen. "Don't tell me Coralee made you sad?"

"No…" Phyllis went silent before she said: "Is there a chance that you can pick me up?"

"You…you are kidding, right?", Mercedes stuttered perplexedly. "I mean, you should see that car, there is barely space for the three of us and the dress!"

"I see." Again, silence. "I will think of something else."

With a deep sigh, Mercedes said softly: "Looks like you also have a bad day, right, Mom? A little company would do you good."

"Oh, yes" She could hear Phyllis smile. With another sigh, Mercedes looked at the tiny car. "You will have to hug your knees in there."

"I don't care", her mother answered, sounding happier now. "But why? Who else is with you?"

"Antoine's personal assistant, Kurt", she said.

"Good afternoon!", he shouted from the car, and made Mercedes smile.

"And Sam…"

"Who's Sam?"

They didn't have time for that now. "And the dress."

"And Anthony."

They really didn't have time for that. Mercedes quickly changed the topic. "I cannot wait to tell you about our trip- you won't believe it, I promise. Where shall we pick you up?"

"There is that spacious parking. Can you take notes? I will give you the address. Does your car have a navigation system?"

"Are you serious? We are happy it has a steering wheel…oh!"

The engine revving up and shouts of joy of Kurt and Sam made her turn around, and the tiny car came to live. "They did it, hooray! So, the address?" Mercedes typed it into her phone, hung up and ran to the car.

"We don't even have to refuel", Sam exclaimed, beaming triumphantly. "Let's try whether it is able to drive."

They somehow could put their luggage into the trunk, put the dress out of the box and put it onto the backseat, neatly folded. It was still in the dressbag of Antoine's atelier, full of drops of cow dung, to Mercedes, Antoine's atelier felt like it was in another universe.

She took a seat next to the dress, the guys got in in the front. Sam started the car, and with another shout of joy, they drove off.

"Erm…guys?", Mercedes said carefully when the car drove down a bumpy road. "I hope you wouldn't mind if we made a small detour?"

"A detour?", Sam answered with a frown. "Have you gone crazy?"

"No, I'm serious. Sorry, but something happened. It's even on the way and will only take us fifteen minutes…or so I hope. Okay?"

Sam threw her a short glance before he concentrated on the road again. "I hope you are right. Where to?"

"Milano."

…

They continued their ride in silence. Mercedes had curled up next to the dress and looked at the guys she didn't even know tow days ago. Except for the time where they had repaired the car, Kurt hadn't said a single word since they had left Vanessa's house.

Somehow, he seemed to act different now. He was somewhere else with his thoughts, checked his phone every single minute and stealthily sent texts. But then, Mercedes remembered that he initially didn't plan to come with them. He had said that he already had an appointment, but his boss had forced him. Even though Mercedes would do everything for the great Antoine Décoste, she needed to admit that this trip had turned into an adventure.

She imagined how worried Kurt was about his other clients, glamorous, sophisticated women with endless budgets. It must be special for him to stay away that long for just a dress. Unbelievable that her sister who made herself mud baths as a teenager was worth it to get treated like a highness by one of the greatest fashion boutiques of the world. Mercedes was happy for her even if she was a little irritated. Maybe because she knew exactly that the reason for that behavior towards Coralee was her fiancé, the oh-so great Sergio Bellucci. She tried not to think about that not all women that wore a Décoste dress got it delivered in a rusty small car.

"Everything all right, Kurt?", she dared to ask.

"Yes", he answered shortly without turning around.

So Mercedes gave up cheering him up. Instead, she turned to Sam who was concentrating on the road in front of him. He seemed to be lost in thoughts as well, and in his case, she could understand. He was on the way to an important film premiere in Venice. It was not exactly common for Hollywood movie directors to drive to the red carpet in a rusty old car.

He wore stylish sunglasses, a Vintage Aviator, so that the sun didn't blind him. Mercedes loved that brand and considered telling him so.

Screw it.

"I love your Aviator", she dared to say.

"My what?" Sam just turned right and drove down a narrow street.

"Your Aviator. Your glasses. I never would have thought you were that trendy."

"Oh, that one?" Sam looked at her in the rearview. "That's how they are called? They just fulfill their function; it was a present."

Mercedes couldn't bite back the comment that followed. "From Jasmine?"

He cocked his eyebrows. "No."

So Mercedes gave up trying to have a conversation with both of the guys. Obviously, none of them were in the mood.

"Are you sure this is the right direction?", Sam asked after a while. Mercedes checked her notes. "Yup, that's what she told me."

They drove to the estate of a building complex. Considering its space, the ambulance and the men in white coats, it must be a hospital. That suspicion was confirmed by a giant plaque saying "Ospedale" over the entrance, the Italian word for hospital. Confused, Mercedes looked out of the window until she spotted a familiar person sitting on a bench with an elegant suitcase next to her, reading a book.

"There!", she said "That's my mom!"

Sam pulled over and got out to help Mercedes out of the car who immediately ran to her mother. Her mom's eyes widened when she saw the tiny car and its passengers.

"Mom!", Mercedes exclaimed and hugged Phyllis tightly. "Isn't that crazy?"

"Hello, darling", her mother said and hugged her back. "I'm so happy to see you."

Surprised, she pulled away and looked at her mother closer. "You look different", she said slowly. "Did you lose weight?"

"Well…"

"It suits you so well! I mean, you didn't have to lose weight, but just look at those awesome cheekbones! Did you do a prenuptial detox?"

"Yes, something like that", her mother answered with a smile.

Kurt got out as well, and Mercedes introduced them to each other. "That's Kurt Hummel, the assistant of the great Antoine Décoste. Kurt, that's my mom, Phyllis Jones."

Kurt kissed her on the back of her hand politely. "Enchanté", he said, looking like Phyllis was the most beautiful being on this planet. "Now, I know where Mercedes and Coralee got their beauty from, Ma'am."

Phyllis nodded friendly, apparently, she was already used to the politeness of Europeans.

"And that's Sam…Evans, right?" Mercedes felt ashamed for not knowing Sam's family name.

"Yes" Sam smiled and shook her mom's hand. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Jones."

"Phyllis, please", her mom answered with a smile as well and pointed at the car. "Are you a friend of Kurt?"

"In the meantime, yes." Sam needed to grin. "We sat in the same plane, and now, they don't seem to get rid of me-I need to go to Venice as well."

"Oh, really?" Mercedes ignored the curious glance her mother threw her.

"To a film festival. I'm a director."

"How thrilling. Maybe we could go there as well? Walk on a red carpet and meet stars?"

"You are more than welcome", Sam said with a wink"But I'm afraid it would collide with an important appointment of yours."

"That's a shame", her mother said.

"We will watch it one day on DVD", Mercedes promised. "And in exchange for that, we could send Sam a DVD of Coralee's wedding – I'm sure he will be thrilled." She grinned when she saw how Sam forced himself to keep smiling politely.

Phyllis looked at the car again. "Looks like we will all get to know each other very well until we arrive at Venice. Shall we?"

It took them a lot of time to get everyone into that tiny vehicle, but finally, they did it. Mercedes and her mom sat on the backseat, the dress on their knees and Phyllis's suitcase to their feet. This time, Kurt was driving.

While they drove off, Mercedes looked back with a frown. "Why did we have to pick you up at a hospital?", she asked.

"No reason to be worried", her mom waved it off. "It was just a good meeting point. It's a nightmare to drive around in Milano, and the hospital was marked very well."

"Good thinking, mom" Mercedes smiled.

"And now, tell me, why the hell you are here-in that thing."

She needed more than twenty minutes to recount what had happened in the past two days. When she came to an end, her mother didn't seem stunned, but more as if she would fall asleep any moment.

"Isn't that funny?", Mercedes concluded. Honestly, she would have excepted a little more enthusiasm about their crazy story. "Well, now, it is."

A "Hmm" was the only reaction of her mother. If Coralee told you, you would be more interested, Mercedes couldn't help but think.

"Sorry, baby", her mom said quietly. "You seem to have experienced a lot by now."

"And that's only half of the story."

Mercedes was aware that Sam was also listening. Once, he even turned around shortly.

"But I will tell you the rest another time."

She was kind of irritated that her mother didn't protest. "You didn't say anything about Anthony", she whispered instead.

Mercedes' stomach sank.

"Where is he?"

"Anthony?", she repeated, searching for an excuse desperately. Her mom was tired, they were packed like sardines in a can in that car, the last thing she wanted was to tell her mom how she got dumped. Now that she thought about it, she realized that she didn't think about her ex even once. So much for repression.

She decided on half the truth, at least better than a complete lie. "He has an important work order in L.A. and can't make it to the wedding."

Mercedes braced herself for the worst.

"I understand", she muttered, closed her eyes and fell asleep.

"Mom?"

At that moment, Mercedes' phone rang, so she retrieved it and looked at the display.

"Oh oh, here we go again…"

She took a deep breath and accepted the call. "Hi, Corr."

"The train arrived hours ago." Coralee's voice sounded shrill and angry. "But you didn't call me. What the hell?"

"Oh, Coralee, that's another long story. I'm afraid we…"

"I don't have time for your long stories!", her sister screeched. "I will marry tomorrow – or not, only thanks to you! Where are you?"

"Well, we missed the train…"

"I know. How can a person be so dumb? Oh, don't say anything, you got attacked by a herd of mad buffalos?"

"Strictly speaking…" Mercedes needed to think about the cows in the barn. "Well, almost. We are on the way to Venice in a car and will arrive in…" She turned to Sam, questioning.

"…three and a half hours", he said.

"Three and a half hours", she repeated. "Okay? Mom is sitting next to me, by the way."

"What?"

As short as possible, Mercedes told her about what had happened, not mentioning the part with Vanessa and the chocolate cake.

"You were just supposed to bring the dress to Venice by plane. And what did you do? Turn it into a drama! That's so you!"

"That's so me?", Mercedes hissed at her. She would have loved to yell at her sister, but the car was so tiny and probably wouldn't take it and let those darned doors burst. "I don't think so. You have no idea what I had to go through for that dress. Calm down. Go and…drink some champagne or whatever brides do before their weddings."

"The majority of them spends the day before the wedding looking at the dress", Coralee snapped. "Is Kurt there?"

"Yes, I succeeded in not losing him. Until now."

"I want to talk to him."

It was no plead, it was an order. But Kurt didn't seem so thrilled about it. "I need to drive and can't talk to her now", he muttered. Mercedes looked at him closer. He was sweating slightly, his lips were pressed into a thin line.

"Not now, bis sis. But I'm sure, he sends you lots of kisses."

Kurt threw her a tormented glance over the rearview.

"And how about mom?"

"She is sleeping."

"Mercedes, are you sure you don't just sit at your home in New York and lie me right to my face?"

"To be honest, I wish I would. But no." Mercedes looked at the highway that was not that crowded thankfully. She searched for plaques that would indicate they were near Venice. "We are somewhere between Milano and Venice, but it won't take long. We did everything in our power to arrive in Venice in time, and sometime, maybe in hundred fifty years, I will tell you everything."

Again, silence. But then, Mercedes could hear someone sniffling on the other end of the line.

"Are you…are you crying?"

"I cannot cry", Coralee sobbed "I can't have red eyes tomorrow. What would the world press say about that?"

"Oh, sweetie", Mercedes said. Suddenly, her big sister sounded so lonely and terrified and she felt sorry for her. Even though it wasn't her fault, she felt bad. "Calm down", she said softly. "I'm aware that situation isn't ideal, but we will be there in no time. And Kurt will be up all night to make sure that the dress fits perfectly. It's on our laps, safe and sound…" She wanted to add "…and unexpectedly sparkling", but let it be.

Kurt was wiping the sweat away from his forehead.

Coralee cleared her nose loudly. "Right. Well…"

"You stopped crying?"

"Yes. Oh, I'm late for my pedicure."

"Oh, you need to hurry. Go, little princess, and prettify your extremities." She heard how Coralee laughed quietly.

"Until later, okay?", Mercedes said "And don't drink all of the champagne. Whether you believe it or not, we deserved it."

"Okay. Until later. And hurry - but be careful."

"I always am."

Mercedes hung up and exhaled loudly. Somehow, Sam could put off his sweater despite the space problem.

"Finally!", she jokingly applauded and blushed slightly when he was looking at her weirdly. "You must have sweated inside that thing.", she added sheepishly and tried everything not to look at his muscular shoulders underneath his white T Shirt.

"Yes", he just answered, folded the sweater and used it as a pillow to lean his head against the glass pane. Then, he closed his eyes and fell asleep soon.

Running late, running late, running late, was the only thing Mercedes could think about. Hopefully, the pedicure would distract her sister for a while even though it was highly improbable. Coralee would count the seconds and if they weren't be in Venice in exactly three and a half hours…well, she didn't want to know how Coralee would react.

"My little girl", her mom murmured in her sleep.

Mercedes smiled at her. It has been a long time since her mother had called her like that. She noticed how Kurt hit the gas and nervously muttered something in French.

"Tomorrow, she will marry…", her mother mumbled dreamily. "How can it be?"

For some reason, Mercedes got mad.

"Am I not your little girl?", she asked, surprised about how childish she sounded.

"Of course, you are" Phyllis squeezed her daughter's hand. "But children grow up so fast. You know, when you were born, people told me that time would fly, and I couldn't believe it. Raising kids is not that easy, the days seemed to be endless."

"I'm sorry, mom" Mercedes bit her lower lip.

"Oh no, it was great, please don't misunderstand it."

"I don't know whether I can believe you."

"But that's the truth! Every moment was special, okay, apart from the sleepless nights." She winked at her daughter. "But just wait until you have kids yourself."

Mercedes needed to think about Anthony. It was no until, it was an if.

"That connection…it cannot be described", Phyllis went on "It doesn't matter where you are now, nothing compares to that feeling."

There were tears in Phyllis' eyes, and there was something else Mercedes wanted to tell her mother. She took a deep breath.

"You were always closer to Coralee than to me."

Silence. Her mother frowned and looked to her. "That's not true."

"And why do I feel like that? You always treated us differently, I can't count how many times I felt excluded. You and Corr, you talked for hours, and I was the one who always got something to do so that I don't do anything stupid. You always called me out whenever I broke something."

Her mother sighed. "Do you mean the musical box?"

"Among others. It was like a disaster! I honestly thought Coralee would kill me. I was seven years old, mom! And you know what? She really got it started again when I suggested to bring the dress to Venice. As if it was the proof I couldn't take care of anything!"

"Weird that the two of you don't just forget that silly story."

"Back then, it wasn't silly", she groaned. "I felt so miserable."

"You need to leave it behind, Mercy", her mother said softly. "That was just an accident."

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

"I broke it purposely." Mercedes felt how her eyes burned with tears.

"Really?" Her mother was good at hiding her feelings because she showed almost no emotions.

"That musical box was so beautiful", Mercedes went on "it sparkled and glittered. And I just had a coffee cup where I could put my jewelry." It took her years to talk about it.

"I didn't know you made it deliberately", her mother commented quietly. "But that's water under the bridge." She caressed Mercedes' knee. "It's normal to be jealous of the things the older siblings own. That's the oldest form of jealousy in mankind."

"But that's not the reason why I broke it" Mercedes was close to crying. That musical box was so beautiful with all the diamonds on it. "I did it because dad gave it to her and not to me."

Her mother nodded slowly. "But you were only seven, that's a little young for such a present. That's why he must have given it to her."

"It was the most wholesome thing I had seen."

Back then, she had been stunned about that it broke into thousands of pieces when she had thrown it down. Aghast about what she had done, she ran out of the bathroom, claiming that it had been an accident when Coralee found it.

"So you didn't just drop it by accident?", her mother asked tentatively.

"I slammed it to the floor with all I had, mom."

"I see."

"It's just, I was so mad. And stunned and I got scared…"

"It's long ago", Phyllis said softly and caressed Mercedes' leg. "You were so little."

"I don't think I will ever forget it. And so won't Coralee." Mercedes shook her head sadly. "I was jealous. I thought you would all hate me."

"Oh, sweetie, that's so far from the truth." Phyllis went silent, thinking about what she would say next. "I remember that time. You dad just left us-with that woman. I had to take care of Coralee because of that. She had so many questions and I thought it would help me as well if I sit down with her and answer those questions."

"You talked for hours."

Her mom nodded. "Yes." She looked at Mercedes. "And you, Mercy, bottled up everything. I thought you were too young to suffer the consequences of our breakup."

"Seriously?"

Again, Phyllis nodded. "That's what I thought. You were seven, Mercy. You just continued with putting on makeup and high heels, playing model in front of the mirror."

"That way, I didn't need to think about how clumsy I am."

"It breaks my heart to hear that. I obviously didn't think about it that way back then, and I am sorry."

They stayed silent for a while and listened to the engine of the car and Sam's quiet snores. Kurt didn't say a single word all the time. Mercedes didn't cry. She felt relieved that she had come clear with her mom. And that was it. Her mom was only human who had a hard time herself and seen how her daughter pretended she was a model, concluding she was fine.

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

"What do you think about tomorrow?"

"What do you mean?"

"Everything. Well, especially about Sergio."

Phyllis looked up. "Why are you asking?"

Mercedes exhaled audibly. "Don't you think it all happened so…fast? They are a couple for only five months."

Her mother pensively furrowed her eyebrows. "And he is so…different from what we are used to."

"Is he?"

Impatiently, Mercedes looked at her mother. "He is a freaking billionaire! And he is older than her."

Phyllis smiled faintly. "As far as I know, none of that is a crime."

"Don't you think she is…I don't know…blinded by all this? Who would have thought that Coralee, a girl from Lima…"

"Mercy", her mother cut her off softly. "Coralee is thirty years old. She is grown up even though it's hard for me to accept it. She knows what she wants, and she loves that man."

Her mother still hadn't answered her question. "So-what do you think about it?", Mercedes asked again.

Phyllis sighed. "I met Sergio a couple of times. He is so charming."

Mercedes snorted disdainfully. "He is European! They are all charming."

"As I have said, he is charming, intelligent and has a good sense of humor."

"That's not enough, as you know."

Now, her mother needed to laugh. "But it's something. And I have seen them together. He adores her." She winked at Mercedes. "Be fair, darling. I met him, and he seemed to be nice. He loves her. What's your problem?"

She thinks I'm jealous of her fiancé just like I was jealous of her musical box.

"Don't you think she is a nice change from the supermodels and celebs Sergio met? I googled him, he always goes to those parties of really rich stars, there are thousands of beautiful rich women at those events."

"And Coralee? Isn't she pretty?"

"Not always." Mercedes crossed her arms, pouting.

"Listen, darling, Coralee and Sergio do love each other. And we will celebrate their wedding tomorrow."

"He is a rich businessman."

Her mother looked at her questioningly. "Google", Mercedes admitted.

"Give him a chance."

"Do I have to?"

"No, of course not. But I disagree with you."

"Coralee always liked…pretty things."

Now, Phyllis looked at her daughter sternly. "Mercy. You should listen to yourself! Coralee doesn't marry him because of the money, but because they want to spend the rest of their lives together."

"Hm…" Mercedes kept on pouting.

"You know what? I'm giving up. You love Coralee, I love Coralee, tomorrow is her wedding. I won't allow you ruin it because you are mad."

"I'm not mad!", she hissed.

"What is it, then?", her mother asked her challengingly. "Is it about Anthony?"

Mercedes didn't see that one coming. "Mom, I already told you that…" All of a sudden, there was a lump in her throat.

"Come on, baby. Why isn't he here now?", Phyllis asked softly.

Mercedes stared out of the window. Confession time. "He broke up with me.", she said. "In Paris. Two days ago."

She felt how Phyllis pulled her in a hug, her mother's body was so fragile and petite, as if she was another woman. But that hug was consoling anyway. And then, she started crying. As quiet as possible to not wake up Sam.

"I can't…", she sobbed "I don't know…"

"Take yourself time", her mom whispered into her ear. "Everything will be okay. I'm here."

After a while, there were no tears left to cry. "He really went to L.A. He got a job there on short notice and thinks he will get famous."

"That's what he always wanted, right?"

"I think so."

"And, how are you?"

"How I am?" Mercedes thought about it. How was she? "No idea. I didn't have time to digest it yet. As soon as I am in New York again, I will change a couple of things, search for a smaller apartment, throw away his things, you know, the usual stuff. But I didn't realize what it would mean for me until now."

Phyllis caressed her back. "Are you under pressure?"

"I rather feeling as if I would levitate." Mercedes forced herself to smile. "I just hope I won't leave the wedding, crying and sobbing."

"Be nice to yourself."

"No time for that", Mercedes sighed. "But I will…as soon as possible."

"That Anthony is an idiot", Kurt suddenly said, much to the surprise of the two women. He threw Mercedes a compassionate glance in the rearview and handed her an expensive looking handkerchief to blow her nose.

"What?"

Kurt must have heard every single word, and she didn't know whether she should find it good that a guy she barely knew had heard all of her intimate stories of her childhood and of her relationship. But on the other hand, she knew she could trust him.

"That's just a saying.", Kurt shrugged.

"Thanks", Mercedes answered faintly. "I start to ask myself whether I wasn't enough for him."

"No way, don't think that!", her mother said, shaking her head fervently, and hugged her again.

"I don't understand", Kurt said "why you shed a tear over a guy who leaves you just because he wants fame. He's just chasing an illusion."

"You think so?", she sniffled.

"I know it."

"But Kurt", Mercedes said "Don't you spend your life with chasing an illusion as well? That imagination of glamour and success?" With those words, she surprised herself. She wasn't even sure whether she believed them.

Kurt fervently shook his head. "Beauty. That's what I concentrate on. Beauty and arts and perfection. I'm pursuing perfect quality, not fame and riches."

Mercedes smiled. He didn't just describe himself but also what she thought. Strictly speaking, not yet. But some day, maybe, if she made herself a name, she would be able to say something like that.

"Anthony, on the other hand…" Kurt still didn't drop that topic "Didn't he show you what he wants?"

Mercedes thought about it. "I…think…so…"

"Because there is someone else who did in the past two days." Kurt nodded to Sam who was still asleep. "He did."

"Kurt!" Mercedes was outraged.

"I'm serious! The two of you are such a cute couple."

She blushed. "Don't be stupid. He sure is a nice guy…"

"And really handsome?"

"Oh, he is", her mother commented.

"Shhttt!" Mercedes looked down bashfully. "Just think about it, Kurt. What did you just say about Anthony and fame and riches? Hello? Isn't Sam on the way to a glamorous film festival to present his movie? He pursues fame and riches as well!"

She couldn't help but feel down. All men she dated until now only wanted to be famous, nothing more. It was so depressing that a simple lifestyle wasn't good enough for people anymore. At least, she had silenced Kurt for now. "Apart from that", she added bitterly "there is something else."

"Really?" Kurt threw her a short glance.

"Yes, and it's called Jasmine."

See you next chapter ;) Let's hope I will have time to update with all my exams coming up...