Chapter 42 – Jesse Flynn
November went by at such a slow pace, and Jesse felt like nothing was happening. Every day seemed to be the same one, and only two girls were sent home, during that month.
First, it was Laelia, because she was one of the last ones who didn't seem to be affected by Nathan's flirting, and she just always laughed at the whole thing. She did have her book idea, by now and had started writing it, but Nathan was tired of trying to get into her good graces. So, he sent her home. She was sad, and everyone was sad to see her go because she was always the one making people laugh with her jokes, even if sometimes her dark humor was rather… dark.
The second one who went home – just a week after Laelia – was Malia, the Magical Mermaid, as the gossip magazines liked to call her during the Selection. Apparently, Valerian had had a really long conversation with her, and though Silas was already spoken for and had already chosen his One and only, Malia still had a lingering crush on the Crown Prince. And her wearing the blue and white dress at the party in September still had bothered Valerian. If he was going to choose one of the girls and fall in love, he would want him to be the only one in her heart.
During the following couple of weeks, Val took his sweet time to date again all his four girls, and Jesse decided that he didn't want to third-wheel him as much as he used to. Sure, he'd take a few pictures of the couples or do some drone footage, but that was pretty much it. And he was drying up on questions and things to discuss on the Report as well.
His sleeping schedule had not really gotten any better, so he was surviving on less and less hours of sleep and more and more coffee, which didn't really help.
AND, Nevaeh was still ignoring him. Well, not entirely, but for the first two weeks of November, she didn't even look at him. Had he done something wrong? Had he did it wrong? He thought their little night – even though both were dead drunk – had been good. That he had been good. Hadn't he?
Oh well. He'd find a way to make it up to her. He had to. Because being on her bad side and being ignored by the magnificent Duchess was ten times worse than her snapping at him, which meant that she was still talking to him and looking at him.
In one word, Jesse felt miserable.
There was love in the air, Thanksgiving was just around the corner, and everyone was just happy. He wasn't. More than once, Jesse almost went to the Queen's office to give his resignation letter, but a little voice in him always told him to stop, turn around, and get some sleep. How had he come so low? He was at the peak of his career, the peak of his strength, and the peak of his life.
There were one or two good moments in this past month, though, but it didn't really include him. The first one was the date of Nathan with Morrigan he third-wheeled: the couple went to a movie premiere in LA, and he was also invited. Morrigan was a natural on the red carpet, but her being on Nathan's arm made her even more powerful than she already was. A huge group of her fanbase was there to see her, and less the actual actors of the movie. And to be honest, Nathan and Morrigan had stolen the show a little.
There was just one thing Jesse wasn't sure about: was Nathan really smitten with Morrigan? Or was he just playing a game? Because he kept his eyes on her the whole evening, but around the Palace, with the other girls around, his eyes wandered… as did his hands and his nights. For some reason, he never touched Morrigan in that way, and Jesse wondered why. He tried to ask Nathan about it, but Nathan dodged the question and talked about something else.
Another date that had gone a little above the others was Val with Ashia. They had gone into town to visit the children in the Los Angeles Children's Clinic, giving out cookies and spending time with the kids. Jesse had gone with them, and he had enjoyed the time there, even though he was not a huge fan of hospitals in the first place. But after that, Ashia's polls had skyrocketed and she was the people's number one favorite on Val's list.
-o-0-o-
Jesse was spiraling. And not in a good way. He kept snapping at people all the time and posting less and less on Social Media. Thank goodness Sydney was there to back him up because otherwise, he would have gone AWOL on the web, except for the weekly Report. But even then, it was getting shorter and shorter and he had no inspiration. The Recap videos were getting longer, and he tried to talk as little as possible to the people around him.
Until he got a summons to the Queen's office.
Jesse's heartbeat sped up a little and he splashed water on his face before following the messenger/footmen downstairs and down the hall. The mahogany double doors at the end of the hall were giving him unwanted flashbacks to the few times he had been there.
The servant knocked on the door.
"Enter," the queen said.
Jesse walked in. The queen was writing something with a golden pen, so he waited by the door. When she was done with her sentence, she looked up.
"Mr. Finley," she said, using his real name, as always. "Please have a seat."
"Your Majesty," Jesse said, bowing from the waist before taking the seat she was motioning at with her hand.
"Mr. Finley," she said again, leaning her elbows on the table, her fingers laced together. "I have a feeling you are losing momentum since the beginning of the Selection. Am I correct?"
Jesse didn't reply right away. How do you tell your Big Boss – who also happened to be the Queen of Illéa – that you're probably having a meltdown in the middle of the most important job of your life? "Maybe?" he said and then sighed.
"Jesse," she said, using his stage name for the first time in forever. "What is really going on?" she paused. "I know for a fact that you've been seeing the palace doctor."
He frowned. How did she know that? Wasn't there supposed to be a doctor-patient secrecy thing going on?
Helena Schreave chuckled softly, but there was no mirth in her voice. "I know everything that goes on under my roof, Mr. Finley. So I'm asking you once more: What is really going on?"
Jesse fiddled with the edge of his suit jacket and didn't look at the woman in front of him. "I've had… some trouble sleeping, recently," he decided on saying. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the actual problem: that was a side-effect.
"I see. Why?"
Jesse shrugged with only one shoulder. He wanted to transform into a mouse, dig a hole in the floor, and run away. "This whole event is very stressful, and I'm some sort of a perfectionist, and I'm always trying to be better at everything," he said, still not looking up. But he couldn't stop himself. Now that the words had started to come out, they were tumbling out of his mouth, like a spilled drink on the table and all over the queen's outfit. But he couldn't stop. "Seeing the princes – or at least Silas – fall in love and find happiness, and then having to third-wheel every single date, it takes a toll on one's mental health. And here I am, almost thirty, still single, and not even capable of doing it right by N– the woman I love," he quickly corrected himself, "and I just want to sleep and be in a dark room all the time and I have to force myself to come out of bed every morning, and I don't know what to do…" he trailed off and took a big breath, still not looking at the queen.
She didn't say anything for a whole minute, making Jesse squirm in his seat, wanting to roll himself in a ball and hide under the covers. Why did he feel like a five-year-old who got scolded by his mother? Worse– by the school principal.
"I see," the queen finally said. "The doctor told me something along those lines." She paused and shifted on her seat, leaning on the backrest of the leather chair. "Jesse, do you know why I hired you to cover the Selection from behind closed doors?"
"No, your Majesty." Jesse looked up.
"Because you were always good at what you did. From a YouTuber in your bedroom, you became a Host on the most-watched TV channel and the Daily People's Vlog. And then you climbed even higher when you were hired to host the Royal Report on that show." She paused. "Am I correct?"
"Yes."
"You always loved what you did, and did what you loved. But sometimes, passion can turn into a burden." She poured some water in two glasses and offered one to Jesse before sipping on hers. "And how I see it, this is what is happening to you, correct?"
Jesse nodded. He honestly wanted to cry right now, but he swallowed back the tears. That would be so ridiculous to cry in front of the queen! Ugh. "The–" Jess cleared his throat. "The Doctor said it was the beginning of a, uhm, burnout." He mumbled the last word, but the queen nodded nonetheless. Either she had guessed, or the doctor had told her.
"How about asking for some help? I know Mrs. Harlow and Mr. Channing are your employees and that they already work on all the technical parts of the reporting." She paused. "But what about asking Nevaeh?" she said, and Jesse's head snapped up. "Or her brother, Henri…" the queen added, seeing Jesse's reaction to her niece's name.
"I'll think about it," Jesse said, not wanting to go into any details. Asking Nevaeh for help was the last thing on his list, especially since she wasn't talking to him at all, these days.
Queen Helena nodded. "Well. I think we covered everything, Mr. Finley. I want to you take care of yourself, and please find help. I don't want the Selection and the royal family to have a bad image just because you are lagging behind. Understood?"
Jesse nodded and stood, bowing before leaving her office. Once he was out, he rubbed his face, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Meeting the queen of Illéa had always been a dream of his since he was a kid. But now? After a meeting like that where she exposed his butt and made him say the words out loud? No one could know he was going down that road. Burnouts were not good on the résumé.
Jesse went back to his room, not wanting to answer any questions Sydney and Otis might have had. He needed some time to figure out what he was going to do. Asking Henri was an option, but asking Nevaeh was not. She was already working too hard as it was, and he was not going to burden her further with his own problems.
When he opened the door to his bedroom, the first thing he saw was a white rose and an envelope on his bed. Jesse closed his eyes and opened them again, wanting to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Nope, it was still there. He sat on the bed, careful not to crush the flower, and took the envelope. It smelled of her. Her perfume he knew so well. Was this a joke or a prank of some kind?
He took the short letter out and read it, his hand trembling a little.
Dear Jesse,
I hate being mad at you, and I miss talking to you, even if it's just snapping or yelling at each other for some reason or another. I miss your laugh, and I miss you.
Yes, we were both drunk, and we're both to blame… But now that I think about it – or at least about what I do remember – I don't regret it. I was so angry at myself afterward for letting myself drink that much and do this– trust me, I usually never do the One-night-stand thing. It's my brother's thing, not mine.
Anyway. This is my attempt at saying sorry for ignoring you, and my olive branch to you. Can we talk? In-person?
If you forgive me, please come this evening at 7 pm to the winter garden. This is where the white rose comes from.
N. de. M.
Even after reading that note, he wasn't sure if it was really her. And if it wasn't, whoever had done this had copied her penmanship really well. Jesse checked the time on his watch: 5 p.m. He had two hours to decide if he was going or not.
Who was he kidding? Of course, he was going! And even if it was just a prank, at least he'd get out of his room for something else than work. Jesse was very picky about his outfit for the evening. Wait. Did Neveah actually ask him on a date? And actual date? Sweat broke out all over his body, and he went to his closet to pick the perfect suit: a dark grey suit with white geometric embroidery on it, a white shirt, and a black bowtie. Not too flashy or he would scare Nevaeh away.
Then he took a shower, shaved for the first time in weeks, and was ready. Almost. He took a selfie and sent it to Sydney.
Jesse: How do I look? [6:37]
Sydney: Very elegant. [6:39]
Sydney: what's the occasion? where are you? [6:39]
Jesse: still at the palace. I'll see you tomorrow. if I'm not dead by then… [6:40]
Sydney: JESSE. [6:41]
Sydney: JESSE! DON'T DO ANYTHING STUPID [6:41]
Sydney: WHAT ARE YOU DOING [6:41]
Sydney: IF THIS IS YOUR SUICIDE OUTFIT, I REFUSE TO LET YOU DO IT [6:41]
Jesse: Stop yelling, Syd. I'm just going on a date that's all. [6:42]
Sydney: … [6:43]
Sydney: oh. [6:43]
Sydney: sorry. [6:44]
Jesse: I'll talk to you tomorrow. gotta go. [6:44]
Jesse smiled, looking at the few text messages on his screen. At least there was one person who cared about him. He put his phone away and looked at himself in the mirror, debating if he should add something to the ensemble or not.
"The rose," he muttered. He grabbed the white rose, cut it short, and attached it to his chest with a pin, just like Sydney had shown him how to do it. Now he was ready. He checked the time one last time: 6:54. It was time to go to his rendezvous. And for the first time since the beginning of the Selection, he was nervous. He had always third-wheeled dates, but now he was going on a date himself! How cool was that?
Unless it was a prank or a joke, then it wouldn't be so cool…
-o-0-o-
Jesse made his way to the winter garden, down the southern part of the palace, where it would get the most sun in the winter months. The ceiling was made of bullet-proof glass, checkered with a steel structure, leaving a clear view of the sky above. There was not a single cloud, letting all the stars shine above. Jesse almost tripped on a couple of steps that went down into the garden, because he was looking at the grandiose sky above. He felt ridiculous, but at the same time, he didn't care: why would the grand universe care if he fell on his face? He was so tiny.
At the end of the stone path with roses and flowers on each side was a small round table with candles on it. It was also surrounded by candles in vases of various sizes everywhere around the garden, giving a warm glow to the place. The table was empty, still, but seeing the setting, he wondered if this was something actually serious, and not a prank of some sort. He walked to the table set for two and waited. He checked the time: 7:01 p.m. At least he wasn't late.
A few minutes later, he heard steps coming his way, heels clicking on the stone tile path. He turned around and saw Nevaeh coming towards him, a sight that made his knees go weak, but he didn't crumble. She was wearing her long blond hair down, very naturally, with nothing whatsoever in them to hold them up. Her outfit was white: a skinny pair of pants that stopped just above her ankles, revealing a nude pair of heels; the top was a puff-sleeve shirt with a high V-neck neckline, and several buttons in the front, making pleats around her breasts and then cinching at the waist.
A breath caught in Jesse's throat but he smiled at her. "Your Grace," he said, bowing from the waist.
"Hello, Jesse," Nevaeh said. "I wasn't sure you would come, so… thank you for coming."
"Of course, I would come," he said. "I'll do whatever it takes to fix… us," he said, stumbling on his words a little.
Nevaeh nodded and sat on one of the chairs, inviting him to sit on the other one, across from her. "No one is going to come to disturb us," she said, rolling out a small table from underneath the bigger one. On it were two plates covered with a metallic bell. She took the bottle of wine and offered some to Jesse, who accepted.
"Wait, you're not drinking wine?" he asked when she poured herself some water.
"No, not in the mood for wine today."
"Oh." They both sipped on their drink before Nevaeh gave them each a plate. "So, uhm, what did you want to talk about? In-person?" Jesse asked.
Nevaeh sighed. "We've known each other for what… two, two-and-a-half years?" She paused. "I know we've been through lots of ups and downs, but I'd like to start over."
"Start over as in forget everything we've been through?" Jesse asked because he certainly didn't want to forget their night together. Or all the moments they shared, good or bad.
"As in let's put the past behind us and build something from it. I mean, only if you want to, that is…"
"Of course!" Jesse said. He held out his hand. "Hi, I'm Jesse Flynn, nice to meet you!"
Nevaeh rolled her eyes, but she laughed. "Not like that." She sipped on her water and started eating. Of course, her plate didn't contain any meat, while his did.
"Then how?"
"First, we need to promise that we're not going to lie to each other."
"Have I ever lied to you?" he said, a little hurt.
"No, but I don't want us to start now," she replied. "And then, well, we're both in the same mess, as far as I know–"
"Mess?"
"The Selection. You and I have both been dragged into it and it's dragging on because Val and Nathan can't choose." She sighed. "And I'm honestly getting tired of this Marathon. Organizing events is more of a sprint. You get everything ready in advance, and then it lasts only an evening. Or a day. Or even just a week. And this one had been going on for four months!"
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Jesse admitted. But he didn't want to tell her about his meeting with the queen just yet. It wasn't lying if he didn't say something, right?
"Jesse," Nevaeh said after sipping on some more water. "Do you think we could work together in the future, instead of throwing wrenches in each other's gears?"
Jesse smiled and nodded. "I'd like that very much."
"Good," she said, smiling.
They continued chatting together, completely undisturbed during the whole evening. When they were done eating, they went for a walk outside, under the real sky. Jesse didn't really know if he could take her hand or not, but he really wanted to. Nevaeh answered that question for him and looped her arm in his, seeking warmth from the chilly night air.
And honestly? This was the best place Jesse had been at, in the past few weeks. Having her hate him above all else had really driven him under and he was glad he might be coming back up. Of course, it wouldn't happen in a day: he had seen other people get beaten down by burnout and depression and it didn't stop just like that. But Nevaeh was probably his best medicine yet…
-o-0-o-
Silas checked the time on his expensive watch: 6:16 p.m. It was too late to start something new, so he decided it was the end of the day for anything concerning work. He pushed his big chair away from the desk and stretched, his backbone popping in some places. He took off his glasses and rubbed his face, making himself wake-up a little before leaving his office.
He wasn't married yet, but he already had a picture of Ximena on his desk, framed in gold. It was a picture taken by Sydney at some point in the Selection where Xi was laughing at something – though one couldn't see what it was since it was out of the picture – and wearing the simplest outfit: a black skirt with a pink top. He smiled at the sight.
Silas put away his papers, stacking them in a neat pile, and turned off his computer for the day, before grabbing the bouquet of red roses his valet had delivered a few moments earlier per his order. The stems were in the water in a vase, so of course, he splashed some water on his fancy suit. Oh, well. It would dry.
The prince made his way upstairs and down the Selected hall – all the remaining Selected had been moved to the same wing, leaving the other one free for guests – and found the door he was looking for. He knocked three times, as usual.
"Come in," Ximena said from within, and Silas didn't have to be asked twice. He hid the roses behind his back.
"Hello, my love," he said, walking in, a bright smile on his tired face.
"Silas!" Ximena stood from her bed and wrapped her arms around his neck to kiss him. "I've missed you."
"And I you," he replied. "Though it's been only since noon." He showed her the bouquet. "These are for you, my Lady."
"Oh wow! They're beautiful!" she said, taking the bouquet of more than thirty roses in her hands.
"It's not as big as your birthday bouquet," Silas said, starting to apologize.
Ximena laughed softly. "That bouquet was gorgeous, but please do not give me one like that again," she said, still smiling. "I couldn't even lift it!"
Silas laughed. "Neither could I, to be honest." He watched as she took the usual vase where she had put all the red roses he had given her over the course of the Selection and went to sit on the bed. While she filled the vase with water, he lay down on the mattress, his legs dangling on the side and his feet still on the floor. He rubbed his face again, sighing.
Silas didn't even hear Ximena come over, her steps were so soft on the carpet, and she climbed on top of him, surprising him. He let out a small 'oof' as she snuggled her face in his neck.
"What is this?" he asked, going somewhat rigid under her.
"Affection."
Silas frowned, but he put his hands on her waist. "Disgusting," he said, and when she looked up, confused, Silas chuckled softly. "Do it again."
Ximena giggled and snuggled again in his neck, pecking tiny kisses on his warm skin. It tickled him and he let out a small chuckle. He wrapped his arms around her, and in one swift motion, switched placed his her. He was now on top of her, a knee on each side of her, and he honestly had no idea what he was doing, but he didn't care. The jacket of his suit restrained his movements, so he shed it off.
"Oh…" Xi said, blushing slightly. "What are you doing?"
"Getting ready to kiss you," he whispered. And without further ado, he kissed her. They both had gotten really good at it, but now, and after a moment, they both needed a break to breathe. "How was your day?" he finally asked, which resulted in Ximena to slump a little.
"Great!" she replied after a couple of seconds.
"You hesitated," he said, climbing off of her and sitting on the side of the bed. "What's going on?" The prince frowned, genuinely concerned for her well-being. There had been so many things in the past few weeks, and one of them had been the haters on the Internet. He wanted to throw all those mean comments away so she would never have to see them.
Ximena sat up, helped by Silas, but he didn't let go of her hand. She shrugged and tucked some of her long hair behind her ear. "I got a letter," she said.
Silas looked at the huge cardboard box next to the desk: fan mail ever since they had been engaged. Some of the letters contained hateful messages, too, and he always wanted to open the letters with her to make sure she wouldn't see those. "You get many of them."
"Not many from Raoul Cortez…"
"What?!" Silas said. He didn't always express his outrage loudly and usually kept to himself, but this was too much. "What did he say?"
Ximena went to her desk to get said letter and handed it to Silas who read it silently.
'Ximena,
I told you I was not done, last time we met. You have no right to kick me out of your life like this. If you are going to marry the crown prince and be the queen – my queen – then I will be at your wedding and walking you down the aisle.
The kingdom of Illéa deserves to know who fathered their future queen. I will be there, be sure of it.
Also, the prince asking your mother to marry you was uncalled for. He should have asked me. I am your father, after all, aren't I? And if you still refuse to see me as so, I will prove it with a paternity test.
Until we meet again,
R. Cortez, your father.'
Silas's fist closed on the letter, crumpling the paper, but he still stared at it. "I swear to you, Xi, he will not be at our wedding. I'll make sure of that." He looked up at his beautiful fiancée, future wife, and future queen.
"I know," she said, and she kissed him softly.
"Why does he write letters, though?" Silas asked. "Isn't he the CEO of a tech company? Can't he use an email or a phone like everyone else?"
Ximena shook her head. "I blocked him everywhere I could: email, phone, Instagram, and any other social media."
"Then I'll block his letters at the gate, too." He took her two hands in his. "I don't want you to be burdened by his presence, even just on paper. And even if he continues to harass you, I'll have him banned from the country. I swear to you that–"
"Silas," she said, silencing him with a finger on his lips. "I really appreciate it. But I think he'll understand when I don't respond to him that his letters don't reach me."
"Still…"
"Look, if he does show up at the wedding but doesn't make a scene, let him be. If he does make a scene, though…" she trailed off and Silas nodded.
"I'll have Parker deal with him with his men."
"Thank you," she said, placing a kiss on his cheek. "How about you? How was your day?" she asked, changing the subject and taking the crumpled letter away from him.
Silas was still angry and tense because of that letter, and he silently vowed to be a better father and husband than that man. He didn't want to talk. All he wanted to do was hold her and kiss her and promise her that everything would be okay. And tell her that she was beautiful and that he loved her.
"It was more or less the same as usual, lots of paperwork and talking, but now I'm done for the day and I have other things in mind for the rest of the evening."
"Oh, you do, now?" she asked slyly, climbing in his lap. "Like what?"
"Like this," he said, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her again. And again. He never wanted to stop. "I love you," he said, softly, meeting her dark brown, almond-shaped eyes.
"I love you, too, my prince," she replied, pressing her lips against his. How were they so soft? And tasting so sweet? Silas would never have enough of her, that he was sure of.
Hewoo! Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little roller of emotions and uwu! ;) I hope you understand that Jesse really feels miserable and that he's not going into details for a couple of weeks, that's why there's a time jump with just a few major events...
Thanks to Sylëa and Lilly for Laelia and Malia, it was a blast writing for them and bringing them to life!
thanks also for all the reviews on the last few chapters! they make my day and I'm always so happy to read them ;) see you next Wednesday for a new chapter! byeeee~
