A/N: wow I know it's been forever! school/life got in the way, but I never forgot about this unfinished story. I recently got a review for this fic and remembered I had started the next chapter ages ago. So here it is, and I hope it provides some entertainment for all of us stuck in quarantine. Stay safe during these strange times and be sure to drop a review! xo
They end up having to call in the cavalry.
George, to say the least, is not pleased.
"I've spent the better part of your life bailing you out," he rages as he paces back and forth across the hotel room. "But I thought now, now, that you were finally an adult, I wouldn't have to clean up your messes anymore!"
Derek doesn't say anything, his head lowered as he sits on the bed. Casey is standing in the oppositecorner of the suite, her arms folded as she positions her body so she's half facing the wall. She wonders idly what it would take for her to just disappear into the floor and be done with it.
"And then you had to go and drag Casey into it!" George continues, jabbing a finger in her direction angrily. "Did you even think about how this looks? And don't even get me started on the stunt you pulled in New York!"
Casey winces, chancing a glance in her mother's direction. Nora is sitting on the couch, one hand massaging her temples.
"I didn't think—"
"Yes, well, that much is clear," George nearly shouts, glaring at his son. In the ringing silence, he pauses, perhaps realizing he's taking things too far. He turns to his wife and asks in a much calmer tone, "Nora, do you have anything to add?"
Nora sighs, looking back at Casey. Then she gets to her feet and joins her husband. "Derek," she begins carefully, "You've never really…made the best decisions…where Casey is concerned."
At that, Derek looks up, a scowl already crossing his expression. "No, let me finish," Nora says sternly. "I mean…take high school for instance. Don't you think your grades would've been, oh I don't know, a tad bit better if you just studied instead of pranking Casey all the time?"
"Ah, excellent point," George agrees, his brow furrowing. "God help me, I don't remember exactly how you spent your time before Casey moved in but ever since she did, it's been one bad decision after the other."
Casey's face is so hot that she wonders if she's radiating heat.
"That's not fair," Derek's voice is low, his hands clenching into fists. "You're the one who told me to apologize to her!"
"Well I certainly didn't mean leaving in the middle of your premiere to do so!" George snaps. "It's one thing to drag yourself down, but to bring Casey down with you, I mean really—"
"George—" Casey tries to intervene, but it's too late.
Derek is on his feet, his eyes blazing. "You have no idea," he hisses, and she can see him shaking, "What it's like. To have your every move monitored, watched, to—to have to fucking pretend all the time."
"Language," Nora admonishes, but he's not listening.
"Pretend?" George repeats furiously, "Pretend at what? Your dream since high school was to be a director, and you've managed to skate right onto that path with nothing but your charm and charisma—so tell me, Derek, what exactly are we pretending about?"
Casey swallows hard, her eyes widening. Edwin and Lizzie are there, but both have remained uncharacteristically silent. Edwin's expression is serious, his eyes narrowed as he watches the exchange. But when she looks over at him, he catches her gaze. And just like that, she can tell that he knows.
Derek's jaw is clenched and that's when he finally turns back to look at her. He studies her fearful expression, and something akin to disappointment flashes across his face, but it's gone before she can understand what it means.
"Well?"
"Nothing," Derek replies sullenly after a moment, his gaze falling back to the ground.
Nora moves closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Look, Derek, we're all very happy that you and Casey have made up. But, you have to understand, it's not the same as when you two were in high school. When the only consequence to your actions was being grounded or…getting suspended." She takes a deep breath and plows on, "You're both adults now and…well, Derek, you're an engaged man. And Casey…she's—you can't play up the step sister angle and expect people not to pay attention."
By now, Derek looks a little nauseous.
George glances at Edwin and Lizzie, seeming to finally remember that they're also in the room. "We're all adults here," he says, "So we don't have to beat around the bush." He looks at Derek sharply, "Flying all the way to New York and staying with Casey and then leaving your premiere to come to her hotel room—a mere hour after you blatantly said on camera that you don't consider her your sister, I might add—"
"Dad," Edwin suddenly cuts in, "I think they get it."
"Yeah," Lizzie says hastily, "I think we all get it. Er, Casey you look a little green."
Derek turns to look at her, and she's startled at how pale he is. She has no idea what she looks like but it must be bad, based on how he blanches. "Case," he's suddenly in front of her, arms held out just as she stumbles forward, feeling lightheaded. "Hey," he catches her in his arms, looking worried. "Alright, let's sit you down."
She lets him lead her to the sofa, feeling too faint to resist. Derek sits down next to her, keeping one hand on her back. "Ed, get her some water," he says, his gaze not moving away from hers. "It's okay," he says quietly, his hand absently rubbing soothing circles on her back. "Take a deep breath, everything's going to be okay."
A glass of water appears before her and she takes it gratefully, murmuring a thank you to Edwin. But her hand trembles, and Derek's hand quickly covers her own before she can drop the glass. "Watch it, Klutzilla," he murmurs, and she rolls her eyes at him, letting the corner of her lips tilt upwards into a smile.
That's when she sees the rest of their family gaping at them in varying degrees of astonishment.
"Bro," Edwin breathes, "You've got it bad."
Derek grits his teeth, "Shut it, Ed."
"But—"
"What is this?" Nora interrupts, her voice an octave higher than normal. "Casey?"
She wants to answer, she really does. But when she opens her mouth, nothing comes out. Because how can she possibly explain? None of them were there—none of them knew how she'd fallen apart without him in her life.
George looks confused, but at Nora's words, he crosses his arms. "Yeah, Derek. Care to explain?"
Derek stands up, keeping one hand on her shoulder as he does so. "Okay, just—don't freak out."
"Derek," Nora whispers, "You're going to be married."
"I…" he shifts uncomfortably, "Not really."
"Not really? NOT REALLY?"
He groans, "Keep your voice down, will you? All we need is for the press to get wind of this, and then I'll really be done for."
"Mom," Casey tries to stand, but Derek's hand on her shoulder forces her down again. "It isn't what you think."
"Isn't it?"
"Derek and I, we're—we just—nothing happened!" Now this isn't entirely true, but her mother doesn't need to know that. From the corner of her eye, she sees Derek glance down at her in surprise.
"Then what happened in New York?" Nora asks swiftly, "And why is he here now?"
Flashes of New York go through her mind and she feels her face grow hot again.
"Alright, look," Derek lets go of her and faces Nora. "I know you're upset, but…" He takes a deep breath and glances at Edwin, who nods at him encouragingly. "I love her, okay?"
"You what?" George demands, looking positively enraged. "What about Aimee?"
Derek's expression darkens before he bursts out, "IT'S NOT REAL!"
"What?"
Then Derek sinks down onto the sofa tiredly and proceeds to explain everything about the contract. He even talks about how he'd fallen apart at university, why things didn't work out with Sally in the end, and how he'd planned out the prank at their reunion.
There's silence after he's finished talking.
"A contract," Lizzie says flatly, and she's the first person to break the silence. "You guys couldn't even wait till after the contract to…be seen together?"
"We haven't done anything wrong," Casey defends. Again, not entirely true, but they didn't have to know that. "It's not our fault the press is creating a story where there is none!"
"Maybe not," Lizzie agrees, "But that's what the press does. Everyone knows that, even us common folk." She looks at Derek pointedly, "And someone who's in the entertainment industry should know that better than anyone."
Her voice is quiet and not particularly accusatory. But Derek still flushes and looks away.
"Derek," George shakes his head, "Make no mistake, we'll be discussing this at length at a later time. But for now...what's your plan?"
Derek looks startled, "My plan?"
"I assume you have one?"
Thankfully Lizzie steps in to break the growing silence. "Alright," she says briskly, "This is all about spinning the story. We need to make it our own narrative. Ideas?"
"Emily," Casey offers before she can really think about it, "She writes for the paper."
"Not gossip column stuff, not anymore," Lizzie muses, "But she would have a connection to someone who does. Good start."
Surprisingly no one disagrees with this plan, most likely because nobody else had anything better to offer.
It only takes a few minutes to explain everything to Emily over the phone. "Of course I'll help," she says, but she sounds dubious. "I have a friend who writes this kind of stuff." She pauses, "We'll have to send a photographer to the hotel, to get a picture of you guys leaving. Casey, it'll be best if you walk out in between Nora and George, try to look as ill as possible."
Edwin looks over at her with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah, don't worry Em, that won't be a problem." Casey halfheartedly throws him a scathing look, but given how she currently feels, she knows she probably looks like the walking dead.
"Okay, next order of business," Emily goes on, "Derek, I don't know how you got there—"
"My driver."
There's a brief moment of silence, possibly as Emily adjusts to the idea of Derek having a driver.
"I trust him," Derek defends, "He—"
"Okay fine," Emily cuts in, "Call him now, and you go back to your house. Stage a date night with Aimee, to celebrate your movie premiere. Somewhere public, somewhere nice. We'll send cameras and spin that story too."
"But—"
"Casey you'll go back with George and Nora for a couple days to recover, I don't care if you have to take more days off work to do so, but it'll look suspect if you hop on the next flight right after we put out a story saying you're sick, got it?"
"We got it," Lizzie says, when no one else does. "Right guys?" Everyone reluctantly murmurs varying degrees of assent, except Derek. Casey looks over at him sharply. He meets her gaze, but his expression is frustratingly blank. Lizzie glares at the both of them before turning her attention back to the phone. "When should we head outside?"
"I'm texting the photographer now," Emily says, "He'll be there in 15."
As soon as she hangs up, Derek gets to his feet. "Can everyone go wait in the hallway please, I need to talk to Casey alone."
George looks at him incredulously, "You can't be serious."
"This is private property," Derek snaps, "There's no press in here, and I won't get—" He breaks off and takes a deep breath, "I won't get another chance to talk to her after today."
"Damn straight you won't," George begins, but then Nora nudges him and he falls silent. "Alright, fine, we'll be in the hallway right outside this door. We're going to head down to the lobby together in precisely…10 minutes. Everybody got that?"
Derek nods, ushering the rest of the family out the door. Then he closes and locks it. Casey still feels a little shaky but she stands up from the sofa. "Look, you don't have to say anything."
He frowns at her, "Casey—"
"I know you didn't want this," she interrupts, "Everything that happened tonight and whatever is going to happen after—I don't blame you, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?"
He shoves his hands in his pockets, staring hard at the ground. "It kinda sounds like you do. Blame me, I mean."
Casey chews hard on her bottom lip, trying to rein in her temper. "Well," she finally says in a measured tone, "Lizzie was right, wasn't she? As someone who's actually in the entertainment industry, you should've known better than to think your disappearance wouldn't be noticed, especially tonight. You even said it yourself, your every move is watched!" In spite of her best intentions, she throws her arms out in frustration, "I guess I don't know what you were thinking!"
Derek flinches.
"I mean—okay, yes I know you wanted to apologize, but—" She groans, "This is a huge mess."
There's silence for a moment, so complete that she could've heard a pin drop.
Then Derek moves towards her. He makes a sudden movement as though he's going to take her hand, but then he doesn't. He swallows thickly, "Case, I'm sorry. For all of it."
"I know," she says, because she does. "And I forgive you," she adds, because again, she does. When he looks surprised, she tries to smile. "I know you had good intentions, and I don't want to leave—tonight—with you thinking I'm mad at you."
Derek is studying her. "You're talking like we're not going to see each other again."
Casey's gaze flits away from him. "Don't be absurd. Christmas is next month, remember?"
"Yeah, but—"
"No contact until then," she cuts in, and this time her voice is firm. "That's how it has to be."
Before Derek can argue further, there's a knock on the door. "It's time," George calls sternly, "Let's go."
And so Casey unlocks the door, taking particular care not to look back in Derek's direction. They all take the same elevator downstairs, with Edwin carrying her luggage and Lizzie carrying her purse. She walks in between her mom and George, just like Emily had told her to. Nora checks out for her in the lobby, telling the receptionist that Casey isn't feeling well at all and it would just be best for her to come home.
Then they're out the doors, with Casey huddled into her mother's side. It's raining, and George holds an umbrella above the three of them while Edwin and Lizzie race towards the car. Casey hears the others say their goodbyes to Derek, but she feels Nora tighten her arm around her shoulders, a warning that she should just continue to look as sick as possible. She's herded into the back of the car with Nora and Lizzie, while Edwin takes the front seat with George.
Then they're driving away. She hasn't seen any cameras flashing, but she knows photographers these days can stand dozens of feet away and still make the shot they want. Casey keeps her face hidden, curled up into the back seat. She doesn't cry, even though she feels like she's lost something.
Or someone.
