Chapter 7
FredsAngel & AngelsFred
Disclaimer: Vera Wang owns herself. Chinese Laundry belongs to whoever owns it and Tiffany and Co. belongs to…Tiffany, I guess. We don't own Mokenstef's "He's Mine," either.
A/N FA: We're back after a long hiatus. Let's see… Since the last time we met, my college's football team has lost its Homecoming…I skipped work and ran into my manager at Wal-Mart… Wait, you don't want to hear about my boring life; you just want to read the story. We will return you to your regularly scheduled chapter after these words from our sponsors. (AF: Read and review or else.) We now return you to When the World Stops, already in progress.
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Angelina's POV
I walk into Vera Wang's chic Manhattan boutique. I'm here for a dress fitting. Normally, the talented Miss Wang only does bridal gowns, but she happily agreed to design a dress for me to wear to the gala premiere.
Hanging on a mannequin at the very back of the shop is the most elegant dress I have ever seen in my life. It's a scarlet floor-sweeping halter with a deep V-neck that comes down to the dummy's waist. It's made of some kind of shimmery material that appears to have flecks of gold in it. But the accessories are the real story. In a case beside the gown, is a pair of Chinese Laundry shoes (also in scarlet) with rhinestone buckles. And next to the shoes is a ruby necklace and earring collection encased in a gold setting.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Vera says in my ear. "You'll look fabulous, Toni. When Alex sees you in that, you'll have a diamond ring on your finger in no time." I roll my eyes and sigh. Why does everyone assume I want to get married and "settle down?" I've been there, done that, bought the T-shirt. I'm not bloody Elizabeth Taylor; once was more than enough. "What's with you?"
"I'm only twenty-two for fuck's sake, Vera. That's too young to be thinking about marriage."
"Damn,' she says and we both laugh. "Just promise me that if you two get engaged, I'll get to design the wedding gown and the bridesmaid dresses."
"I promise." I feel sort of guilty lying to her like that. After all, I have no intention of ever marrying Alex and it's wrong to lead such a great person on like that.
"Good. Now, it should fit unless you've gained or lost weight in the past week." She looks at me as if appraising my body. "Damn," she says again, but this time neither one of us laughs. "Have you been eating?"
"Of course I have. I'm not American, you know; I believe in being healthy."
"Yeah, right. You're an awful liar, Toni. How hard have you been working?"
"Put it this way: lately, I haven't had the energy to fall asleep."
Vera groans and shakes her head. "That's not good at all; you were a toothpick to begin with. Follow me and I'll see how many alterations I have to make before you head back to the hotel and get some sleep. And eat something dammit!"
Suddenly, we hear the ringing of chimes that announce customers entering the boutique. Vera and I both whirl around and face two girls that couldn't be more than twenty. Well, actually one is twenty and the other nineteen. I recognised them immediately: Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley. But what the hell are they doing in New York?
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Fred's POV
I glance at the Muggle LCD. 1:42 PM. I've slept all day. Again. Sleeping is the only thing I've done all week. Ever since Angelina told me that she couldn't see me anymore. It sickens me to know where she is right now: in an expensive New York penthouse. More specifically, in an expensive New York penthouse suite whose only occupant happens to be Alex Daniels. The thought of him making love to her disgusts me. Actually the thought of anyone making love to her (with the exception of me) nauseates me.
It's not fair. I have money, looks, and I genuinely care about her. What the hell does that insufferable git have that I don't? Angelina, the voice at the back of my mind says, tormenting me to no end. But he doesn't really have her; she doesn't love him. Or if she does, it's nowhere as strong as the love she has for me.
I need to get my mind off her so I turn on the radio. Not the wireless, but the Muggle one that Angie gave me when we were twelve. I miss those days; we were so carefree and innocent back then. An early 90's R&B song comes on and its lyrics eerily remind me of the state of my relationship (or lack thereof) with my ex-wife.
He might be doing you, but he's thinkin' about me
So lady think about another lover
And go find another brother
I know he's my man, he's holding my hand
It feels good when he calls my name
Don't you wish you had the same
Feeling this stud's working your stuff
Till he thinks about mine
Now he's feelin' real high, you ask why, he's mine
1-Tell you something, it just ain't cool
Never fall in love with a man who don't love you
Oh, I wouldn't waste my time,
Tellin' you something wrong.
You've been with him one night
And now he's comin' home
He's mine, you may have had him once
But I got him all the time
(You can't sleep at night)
He's mine, you may have had him once
But I got him all the time
(Don't try to dry your eyes)
He's mine, you may have had him once
But I got him all the time
(I got him all the time)
I switch the receiver off. I refuse to accept that she wants him. Her heart belongs to me, no matter what she says. I smile. She looked so gorgeous when she was lying to me. She didn't think I noticed that her voice was shaking, that her heart was breaking. I glance at the clock again. Exactly 2:00. Let's see…There's a five-hour time difference, so that means it's about 8:00. She should be awake by now; she's a morning person. During seventh year, I was tempted to tell her to go out with Wood when she woke us up for practise at 5:00 AM.
I take a shower and head downstairs. I'm hungry; might as well make a sandwich. Mum and Dad are visiting my aunt and uncle in Wales. And there's a note for me from Ginny and Hermione on the kitchen table.
Fred,
We went to New York to visit an old friend. We'll be back in a couple of days with a present for you.
Lots of love,
Gin and Mione
I smile again. Well, well, well. Looks like my sister and her best friend have taken my problems upon themselves. Sandwich forgotten, I head upstairs to clean my room. Can't let Angelina see it in its current state; she'll kill me.