CRAZY RICH ILLÉANS

II

I want Disneyland


The sun is moving towards the horizon. Not that Gemma Maeve Schreave is bothered; there's a heater on the rooftop terrace of an Italian restaurant for when the night's cold sets in. She doesn't expect it; that's why her jacket is idly waiting with her Harley three floors below, but it's good to know. The final rays of sunlight on her face are soft, warm and remind her of her mother's embrace when she was young. Maeve closes her eyes, decides to ignore what is going on in her life and enjoy the moment. Soft, almost bubbly on her skin, are those golden rays, but the cold sets in, like the truth of her situation. Settle down, if you want to inherit. She places down the glass of de Rossi Sorriso wine. The best the house could recommend. It's good; Maeve likes the brand. She's had it before, on her trips to Italy. The restaurant is a recommendation from Anna; apparently, it's a fancy place frequented by politicians and the top businessmen. She had to make a call and drop the Schreave name, so it can't be that bad. It isn't either, but she's then again, she is drinking Starbucks bubble tea as well…

Officially, her afternoon is free. Unofficially, she is to look into this 'settling down' business. A text from Anna arrived earlier, asking her to meet up later to go through the paperwork of the will, but that's it. That's tomorrow. She did take out her phone to deal with the 'settling down' business, but rather than taking care of that, she catches up with friends.

As in, friends in America, Hong Kong, Spain, Paris and, well, everywhere but Illéa. She doesn't even remember the faces of her childhood friends…

Going by her Instagram feed, an old friend from California will debut with her first album soon—financed by a dad that doesn't even make a million dollars a year. She doubts it'll do well, but she likes the Instagram post because they're friends. She sips her bubble tea. Maeve doesn't know if she prefers it over the wine.

She considers telling those friends abroad about the whole 'setting down' business, but no—she can't. If that tea spills to Illéa, it'll be bad for the family name. Most of her friends abroad only know her as Maeve Daulton, not Gemma Schreave, but particularly in the States, there are people who know her real name from the International Debutante Ball…

She closes a friend's Instagram profile. It's not worth it. Checking up on a bunch of kids in Manhattan won't get her a boyfriend for her grandmother.

"I wonder what's hot in Illéa," she asks herself and starts going through the local trends. Two Instagram users being shipped again, she notices. One of them stole the other's house keys. Griff Vael and Alex Langston. Both names ring a bell, but she can't place them.

Why ever that is trending. There's better content to do that. More important content. Like her.

Maeve continues to scroll. Besides that, she finds one particular Instagram account, currently bombed with questions whenever she is a Kardashian. It's a radio show's host—The Love Report's Estelle Mun. The show is about advice on love.

"Love advice," Maeve mutters to herself. "Why not?" She clicks on the Wikipedia-supplied link to their website. Calling isn't difficult; the radio is in session right now, and she's not beyond asking other people for their opinion. That—and maybe this Estelle has an idea.

A lovely assistant asks her to hold a moment. Maeve is about to speak up and remind of who she is, before she remembers that no—she's anonymous. She's not planning to tell them who she is. She won't.

There are three beeps when she's forwarded to the radio host. "Hello, and welcome to The Love Report! This is Estelle Mun, you're live on air, and I'm happy to help! Wanna introduce yourself to our audience?" Estelle's voice is bright, cheerful and energetic. Maeve can't help a smile.

Well, rest in peace, Maeve, she thinks though. She can't exactly go with 'Hi, this is Maeve Schreave and I gotta get a boy to get my inheritance', can she? No—she ruled that.

Maeve glares at the smartphone in her head. She should have gone with asking her friends back in California—but now she's up to this and won't stop. Maybe an alias—like she did in California? She can't go with Gemma or Maeve—both too unique and people could catch on it if they were to find her social media past…

"Hi!" she begins in her best valley girl accent, "so, my name is, like, America Singer, and I kind of, like, need your help!" Cringy, but Gemma Maeve Schreave isn't cringy, so nobody will make the connection. Obviously.

"Oh, sweetie, nice to meet you! Where are you from? What's up?"

"So, I'm, like, from Cali, and my mum insists on me marrying a guy when I just got back home, and that's so making me wanna barf out! Like—oh my Gosh!" Maeve cringes at herself. Gosh—had she ever talked like this? Hopefully not.

"What?" Estelle is surprised. "Isn't that super illegal? Or at least immoral? Something like that? It's not the 18th century anymore…"

Maeve shrugs. She knows enough cases that disprove that statement. "Y'know, so, here's the tea. My fam is being so un-fam, like, and threatening to cut me off, which totally sucks. Though if I, like, find a nice enough guy to, like, parade me around town and bring him home, they'll probs get off my back. They're, like, really adamant in getting someone for me to, like, 'settle down' with, and probs marry. Like, how would I go about doing that?"

"That sounds like the plot of a drama—I'm so sorry," Estelle replies.

"Yeah, it totally does!"

"Then, you just need a boyfriend to play along?"

"So—like—he totally needs to have status. I work in a way up position at a large company—I can't date just anyone!"

"Alright, I see." Estelle pauses to think. Maeve is about to remind her that she's on a call with Gemma Maeve Schreave when she continues. "I don't know the whole story here, of course, but from what it sounds to me, maybe you could look into who'd be 'available' and befriend with the right people, to start with." That's the plan either way. "Maybe you even find someone you actually like—I'm sure your parents would be happy about the efforts. Maybe there is someone in the same position as you are, even?"

Maeve twirls a strand of her hair and nods. So, nothing new—that's the plan either way. How very helpful Estelle is. "Ah, I see," she mutters. At least she knows that she'd make a great voice actor and if the 'inherit a real estate empire' route doesn't work, maybe that's her future?

Estelle sighs—in a mix of empathic understanding and amusement. "I'm sorry, that's such a Kiera Cass thing to do…. I'm sorry for you."

"A… what thing to do?"

"Oh, right, you aren't from here, are you? Let me explain. It's an Illéan saying. It means that someone did something you'd expect a drunk to do, but they aren't drunk and serious."

"Okay? Who's this Kiera Cass?"

"That's the insider."

"Excuse me?"

Estelle chuckles. "I don't know myself, again, I'm sorry. It's just a saying. What do you think though?"

Great. An insider. Maeve frowns. She should know that. "Well, thank you for your sweet advice, Estelle," she hums. "You're lovely. I'll look into a selection of people." She ends the call without waiting for Estelle to respond.

Find a selection of adequate people. She can do that. Maybe through Noah's birthday and social season, she can find someone who'll both for work her and her family. Maeve smiles. The process will take time, but she decides that it will work. She's Gemma Maeve Schreave, after all. Everything will work if she needs it to.

Her Boyfriend Selection™ will work, once it comes to exist.

She waves by a waiter and tells them to send her the bill for the dessert, wine and champagne she had here. Both bottles are barely touched. Details. She doesn't need to care—has better things to do with her time. Once more, she opens her Instagram—this time to figure out where Noah could be.

Unfortunately, her dear cousin doesn't post as regularly as she does. Fortunately, he put the name of a surf club on his account.

Noah's Surf Club (what a creative name, she wants to say, but her wealth comes from Schreave Real Estate, so she's not in that position) is located at the southern beach—nearby the waterfront where the construction site used to be.

Even though the sun is setting and it's colder in Illéa now, Maeve decides to pick that idea up. Better earlier than later—Noah's birthday is coming soon, and she also needs to prepare for that. Whatever Mary is preparing, it won't be the only event.

She takes her Harley and drives to the beach one more time today.

The surf club could, in Maeve's humble opinion, not be called a "house". If even, it was a small, rusty hut. She was glad to know that this hut wasn't everything to it, and that it probably was for the aesthetic. She steps in, finding no one but Jared Kim from earlier in the front. So not a student but an employee here, she concludes. He waves when she comes in.

"Hi, sorry, but we're about to close," he says. "Unless you're here for me, it is."

"Hey," Maeve replies with a smile that needs to be forced, "I'm not planning to surf. Or anything with you, sorry. I'm looking for Noah. Is he here?"

"Yeah, he is," Jared nods. "I gotta confirm first though. This has happened before and I don't want to end up calling the police—you're not some creepy kid that saw him and his friends on Instagram and now wants a rich boyfriend? Or Estelle and the other celebrity friends?"

"Yeah, no." How does he dare to think she'd be like that? Does he have no eyes for quality? Does he know how much her outfit costs? "I'm not. Tell him, Maeve wants to see him."

Jared nods. He's seen her Instagram, of course. "Sure, will do."

He disappears to the store's back. At least he's not flirting too much at work, Maeve thinks and begins to look around; she avoids the sand and wet surfboards. Two girls in bikinis come in, probably to return them or so. She should have brought her swimsuit too...

Then again, she has the rest of her life to spend on Illéa's beaches.

The only girl that really catches her attention is a young—maybe seventeen years old—girl with great posture (no, Maeve is not jealous), Asian features and red hair. Unlike the other girls, she brings a red, glittering bike, and not a surfboard. She pushes the bike inside the store, so naturally, Maeve watches her. She's confused.

"I doubt you can surf with that," Maeve comments before thinking. Duh. She can't surf with her Harley either, and the redhead, at least, is dressed better for Illéan "winter". It's not winter. Not compared to Europe. Maeve is sweating.

The redhead leans the bike against the wall and turns around to Maeve. Her smile is gentle and pretty. "I know," she replies with said soft smile. "I'm just here to talk to the owner."

Maeve raises her eyebrows. "One thing in common. You know Noah?" Duh, Maeve, who else owns this place?

"Yes, I do. He's a good friend." Does that mean that she's important, or is that just Noah having peasant friends? Both are possible; she looks decent, but she still came by bike, Maeve thinks. "What about you?"

"Similar. I'm Maeve." Maeve smiles briefly. The redhead doesn't recognize her, Maeve realizes. Therefore, she can't be important. At least not important enough that Gemma Maeve Schreave should bother—not if she doesn't recognize her.

"My name is Kenna Choi. Kenzie is fine," she replies. How strange; Maeve recognizes the voice—that doesn't need to mean anything, but she does. Strange indeed. It's soft, calm and gentle. "Do you live here? I haven't seen you around."

Given the population of seven point one million people in Illéa, that's likely.

Yet, Gemma Maeve Schreave knows better than to correct Kenzie. "Just came back. I lived in Hong Kong for a while." And in America. And in New Zealand. And in Spain and France. And lots of other places.

"Hong Kong?" Kenzie repeats with big eyes. "Have you been to Disneyland? It's great there, isn't it?"

"Of course," Maeve laughs. "Every Friday after work."

"Oh, that's so cool!" Kenzie sighs. "I've always wanted dad to buy me a Disneyland, but he always said that Disney doesn't sell them..."

Buy Disneyland? Maeve tilts her head. If Kenzie mentions that so nonchalantly, then she may be important after all. Maybe her attention isn't wasted after all? She smiles understanding. A twelve years old Maeve had similar wishes. "That's a big mood. I always wanted my parents to do the same, but then I moved to Los Angeles and..." If Kenzie isn't new-rich, then she should know who moved to Los Angeles. Gemma Maeve Schreave did.

"My dad did build an amusement park here, in the end, but that doesn't make it a Disneyland..."

There's an amusement park in Illéa—yes, Maeve remembers that. Choi Amusement Resort something. Kenzie here must be related to that, then. She's important. She's one of them, the rich kids. Her people—the people that Gemma Maeve Schreave belongs to. Maybe she has a hot brother I could consider?

Kenzie leans against the counter. "What did you do in Hong Kong?"

"Assistant English teacher at a local high school." It sounds like nothing—like a peasant—if she phrases it like this. "A volunteer work—charity. I worked at a very low docile school. I also got to refresh my Cantonese."

"Do you speak Cantonese?" Kenzie asked, curious. "Where are you from?"

"Illéa. Learning languages is a hobby of mine, and it's my mother's native tongue; she is from Hong Kong. I'm not that good at writing and reading, but I can understand and speak it well enough."

"That's nice," Kenzie replies. "My dad insisted I study Korean and learn French as I grew up…" she sighs. "I wouldn't say that I enjoyed it enough to make it my hobby, though."

Maeve grins. "English, French, Spanish, Cantonese and Mandarin," she begins to count. She's proud of that—even if she would take time to get back into them. "Russian, Italian and German. I wouldn't be able to work as a translator or in professional settings, but social settings? I'd do well. Languages are, so to say, a hobby of mine. I have a degree in linguistics too." Maeve doesn't get further with bragging.

"That's...cool." Kenzie's smile remains polite. "It's a lot!"

"Eight—one is missing; I'm working on Korean right now," Maeve replies.

"Oh. Nal ihaehal suissni?" Kenzie asks. Do you understand me? Her Korean sounds pretty accent-free. Maybe her mother tongue then? If her name is Choi, then probably. Duh, Maeve.

"Ye," Maeve nods. Yes.

"That's cool. Do you travel a lot?"

Maeve laughs. "The last time I was at home here was three years ago, for one week."

"Ah, I see," Kenzie nods. "How do you know Noah then?"

Before Maeve can reply, Jared and Noah return from the back of the club. Jared points to them, says something about closing up, and goes to the surfboards. He continues work, she assumes and moves her attention to her cousin. Noah looks as always—she can almost see the ocean salt in his wet hair, and there's a wetsuit under his Hawaiian shirt. He hasn't changed in three years, but he still looks a bit confused. He frowns, to be exact, but it makes sense, she reminds herself. Three years ago, she had blonde hair. It must be that.

"Still going by Maeve then?" he greets her grim as always. Maeve never understood how he has so many friends. Noah raises his eyebrows. "Hi, Kenzie. Are you coming to surf now?"

"Yes," Maeve replies to him before Kenzie can speak out.

"I told you I was at work; there was no need to spam me with 'come surfing' the whole morning," Kenzie chuckles. "I wanted to discuss the party. I don't have time for surfing today; I'm going to a play."

"Party?" Maeve replies curious. "Your Birthday?"

"Yup," Noah replies unimpressed. "Are you going to invite yourself?"

"Sure," she replies. "When? Where?"

"That depends on Kenzie."

"What do you mean?"

"You can use the Beach House," Kenzie replies to Noah, daring to overlook Gemma Maeve Schreave. "Catering and all is up to you though—I don't have the staff for a party. Oh, and it would be nice if nobody ends up crashing there. I mean, of course, people can if you need them to—it'd just be nice because… forget it."

Noah overlooks her babbling. He forgets it, as she asked. "Sure, will do. I was thinking of a buffet BBQ and a bonfire if that's cool with you?"

"Sounds good," Kenzie nods. "I just need to let my butler know when you'll start setting up, so he doesn't call the police."

"I'll see if I bring friends and do it myself, or hire someone."

Maeve frowns. "Why would you do it yourself?"

"Because it's fun," Noah groans. "That's something you don't get, Maeve." He says her name as if it's a joke. It's one of the reasons why she doesn't like him. He's his parents' son, in the end.

"You could add some fairy lights and marshmallows," Kenzie suggests. "Maybe fireworks?"

"Bad for the marine life," Noah replies. "We will need to see what we do with the rubbish too—I don't want to leave it on the beach or in the water."

"Duh. Pay someone to clean up as we go."

Noah rolls his eyes but doesn't comment. Kenzie isn't fazed by it, so Maeve decides that she isn't either.

"That'd probably be a good idea," Kenzie agrees. "or, we just use real dishes."

"They're inevitably gonna break and hurt someone. I considered it. Think of Alex—he's inevitably going to turn up."

"Is there any food you could do without?"

Noah shakes his head. "Not when half of the guests spend a thousand dollars for dinner on a daily basis."

"True..." Kenzie sighs. "There's also the issue of smoking and so on... Maeve has a point with hiring someone."

Noah cringes. "Budget though."

"Dude, since when do you need to budget?" Maeve blurts.

"I make my own money. I don't live on grandma's bank account, unlike someone else."

Maeve sticks her tongue out, but she doesn't have a response to that. It's true, but also—why wouldn't she? It'll be hers soon either way. It's hers, essentially.

"We can't clean it together, because half the group with be gone and the other will be wasted."

"Some might help... What about..." Kenzie gazes to the air. "Vienna? She's responsible."

"And her dad is the prime minister. That won't happen. You also need to think about the timing. The party is on a Saturday evening. How many people will want to clean up a beach at three o'clock, Sunday morning?"

"I'm sure Ori would help."

"Even if it was us three, it'd be a lot to do…"

"Alex could clean up for himself." Kenzie huffs. She doesn't like that name. Who is it? Maeve fails to make the connection to previous 'Illéa's famous and infamous' research. "I'm sure he'd do well with learning how to do that. Rina too, and, Gri—"

"Yeah, never. Alex is going to be drunk all night, and Griff and Rina will be occupied stopping him from drowning. There's no way I can talk them into helping." Noah sighs. "We'll need to make sure he doesn't poison the entirety of Illéa's marine life. Not after what happened to his fishes."

"We could try ban him from drinking?" Kenzie suggests.

"I'm fairly sure that Griff tried that in the past. I'm very sure, actually, because their club ships to the Surf Club on a regular basis. He'll find a way around."

Their club? Alcohol? Maybe they run a night club, Maeve concludes. Great though—so who's this Rina, that Ori, Alex and Griff they're talking about? Maeve pushes her hands into her jacket pockets. She knows that Noah's a jerk, but Kenzie? Sure—she's like eighteen years old and she's pretty sure that there's something going on between them (which makes them six years apart in age…), but if her dad ran the local amusement park, you'd expect her to have some class and inform Maeve of who they're talking about… This is Gemma Maeve Schreave they're speaking to!

"Uhm, hi? Hello? I still exist? What are you talking about?" Maeve crosses her arms.

Noah deadpans. "You weren't part of this conversation from the beginning, but okay. If you want to be of use, help Jared close the store."

Kenzie gives her another brief, off smile, and sighs. "Maybe Maeve here is right?" Yes, of course, she is! "If we just go and organise someone to clean up… Maybe the beach party wasn't the best idea in the first place?"

Noah hesitates. He can't admit her genius, as always. "I'll think about it. For now, I need to close the store. I don't want to make Jared do overtime, he's busy enough. Do you mind if I run whatever I decide on past you later? Tomorrow or so?"

Kenzie nods. "That's fine with me. Text me whenever you need to—although, no, wait. I'm going to a play tonight. My phone will be off. I won't be able to read the text then, but afterwards, I'll be on it immediately! I promise!"

"It's fine, it's fine—I don't want to inconvenience you, Kenzie. Have fun at your play—I'll text you. Maybe the group chat has some ideas."

Kenzie nods. "That's great! See you later then! Bye Maeve, it was nice to meet you!" she smiled when she turns around, leaves the store and gets on her red bike. Why ever she'd ride a bike is still at loss to Maeve.

When Kenzie is out of hearing range, Maeve speaks up, "Is she your girlfriend?"

"Kenzie? What? No—never." Noah shakes his head and steps behind the counter.

"So, you're crushing on her?"

"Gosh, Gemma, no," Noah shakes head distraught, "Definitely not. She's my best friend. Nothing more. Definitely."

"Yeah, totally."

Noah shakes his head, puts a fist down and says, "Her fiancé died recently, Gemma. Shut up. You have no idea."

Maeve is dumbfounded. "Oh."

"Yes, 'oh'," lectures Noah, "Don't assume stuff—especially when you have no idea about it." He shakes his head. "Anything else I can do for you? If not, I have a store to close."

"No," Maeve looks down, "not really."

"Good," Noah gestures to the door. "There's the door."

Maeve hesitates in turning around. Letting him have the last word? No, never.

"Jerk," she mutters on the way out.

Noah Schreave knows better than to reply.


Chapter Recap:

Maeve procrastinates the settling-down-idea by looking into what her friends abroad are doing. She learns more about Illéa's social media life, though, and discovers Estelle Mun, a radio show host that gives love advice. She calls and asks for help under the alias of Valley Girl America Singer. Although Estelle can't give her something new, Maeve hears about a typical Illéan saying and once again feels alienated from home. She also goes to see her cousin, Noah Schreave, at his surf club to invite herself to his birthday party. She meets his best friend, Kenna 'Kenzie' Choi, who might just be a potential future friend.

Next Chapter: Make Overs, but for the Selectee


Hello dear readers!

This chapter introduces Kenna 'Kenzie' Choi by Slytherwitch, our first Selected! (except Maeve is aggressively straight-thinking, but we'll get to that eventually). We also meet the Report of CRI and its host, Estelle Mun, alongside Noah Schreave, Maeve's cousin! :) This chapter was originally double the length, but I cut it down because it was long, and I wanted to post a month after CRI's first chapter.

You've got a list of the cast in the 'first chapter' now, so it doesn't cloud my profile. It'll take time to update, but it exists now and should be easier to find.

Thank you all for the lovely response to the first chapter! It's so encouraging to read what you all are planning, chatting about and all! I can't wait to dive into this story with everyone. The SYOC remains open, and it will be until Dec 31, but I may just remove the 'newly arrivals' because I already have many characters. I'll see, so if you still want in, just quickly message me. :)

You should be able to find something on Pinterest, by the way. :eyes:

Let me know what you think of Estelle, Noah and Kenzie!

See you soon!