After spending an hour re-doing her makeup, getting changed into a suitable outfit for their shopping trip (thanks to Dylan for stashing a purple donna mizani mini wrap dress and a pair of black vince camuto platform heels), the trio were off to spend the day styling and preparing for the dreaded party at the end of the week.
Peering out from under her sunglasses, Massie's eyes scanned Derrick as he whipped them around in his all black BMW x6. He had definitely grown into himself even more, and with his soccer career, he kept in incredible shape. His hair was sitting in short curls at the top of his head, and you could tell he still wasn't used to it the way he'd go to run his hand through them.
The alpha let her fingers run down the leather interior of his car, humming to herself as Dylan was on a phone call with one of her "zentees", or desperate housewives she mentors that 'need help finding themselves'. The brunette let out a cackle as Dylan conversated with Daphne on speaker, a forty year old stay at home mother who 'lost all ambition to be anything but her husband's wife', which led to Dylan promptly slapping her on the shoulder, and Derrick shooting her a grin in the rearview mirror.
"Honey, listen to me. You need to breathe it out, remember? In for four, out for three."
"Sometimes that doesn't work, Dylan! My percocet prescription is running dry!"
"You shouldn't be using percocets! You signed an agreement with me that you wouldn't be using any drugs during our period of sessions!"
"Oh, I wouldn't call them drugs, they're more of….more of my happy pills? My stabilizers? I hate my children, Dylan."
"I cannot believe I'm having this conversation right now!"
"Do you ever regret having children?"
"I've never had children, Daphne. I'm twenty four."
"Oh, right."
"Personally, I think the navy suits you better. Ha, get it? Suits? Like a suit?"
"Gawd, Dylan, your sense of humor seriously dwindles by the hour."
"I'm thinking a white shirt under it?" Derrick suggested, tilting his head to the side a she stared at his reflection in the mirror.
A form fitting, navy ralph lauren tweed blazer hugged his shoulders and skimmed his back. The gold detailing on the sleeves and buttons on the front of the blazer accented his tanned skin, and the matching pants fit his butt in all the right places. He lifted a hand, straightening out the burberry tan printed tie Massie picked out for him to wear with it. Even he would admit, he looked damn good.
Is this what you wear when you're planning on stealing your ex girlfriend away from her abusive fiance? Asking for a friend, of course.
Dylan and Derrick decided they would go together as dates, to keep the peace and not give away any suspicions. Everyone in Westchester knew how close of friends the two were, but also knew that a relationship between the two would never blossom.
Or, Massie reminded and reassured herself of this every half hour or so.
That was the problem with Derrick, though. Massie was not an insecure girl, by any means of the imagination. Hell, people said she was too sure of herself most of the time.
But with Derrick, she could be the most self-conscious version of herself because there was always something up in the air between the two of them.
Majority of that, though, came from their rocky past relationship experiences. Fighting, then dating, then oh shit, we're broken up. Then the getting back together and trying to make things work, the pressure from the outside world swallowing up their relationship.
Things were always rocky with them.
Not always, and not always in a bad way. Sometimes,it made things interesting. The real problem between the two of them was that each felt they needed to hold the upper hand in it. They were always competing, whether it be the better social life, the better friend group, the better social standing. Not one day went by in grade school where they weren't competing, or trying to get details and intel on what the other was up to.
Sometimes, it helped the relationship. It brought out more passion when they got along, it brought out more drive between the two to make things work and to suppress all of their peers ugly thoughts. It helped them defeat enemies faster, not only defend their friends in a stronger manner because they worked in unison but also defend each other.
Their relationship was fire and ice. When one was burning, the other was frozen. Or, one would extinguish the other, put them out or put them down. Then, the cycle would change roles. Massie, for whatever reason, was always more hesitant than Derrick was. She always hid more, she was always a cold stone wall compared to him.
Massie was hard to get and hard to keep. She knew the game through and through, and knew the best ways to play it, to twist your thoughts and your insides until they were wrapped around her thin, cartier covered pinky.
Derrick was always afraid he was going to lose her. Maybe because he had lost her, numerous times. He lost her to other boys, intending to make him jealous. He lost her trust, when he kissed Nina. He lost her innocence, when she refused to have her first time with him and she gave it up to the next boy who came knocking.
Derrick lost her through his own dumb actions, his own childish games and mannerisms. His shaking his butt after saving a goal, his shorts in winter with the purple knees. Sure, he was a kid, and so was she, but she was mature. She was an adult in a twelve year old's body, with a mind of her own, a course in her mind of how she wanted her life to go, and he kept interfering with that.
He decided, looking in the mirror, that the suit was perfect, and now suddenly felt a little too tight and he really needed to change.
And he really needed Massie.
Tens of ballroom gowns littered the dressing room floor of Saks Fifth Avenue, and Massie and Dylan didn't know what to do about it.
Massie was less than excited about any of the options.
She hated white, first of all, so this was all a stretch to begin with.
They were either too fluffy, too wide, too shiny, or too short.
Dylan, exasperated with going back and forth, had their shopping assistant for the day, Derrick, pull some more options as Massie sunk to the ground.
"I just don't know why this is so fucking hard!" She yelled, throwing her fists into the long silk number and balling her hands in the cool fabric. Massie never felt so much...despair before, besides when Chris Abeley embarrassed and broke her heart at Skye Hamilton's party way back when.
"Mass, it's because your heart isn't in it."
"Can you blame me?"
"Of course not! But, that's why. You're miserable thinking about it, you'll be miserable at the party, it all makes sense and you're totally justified."
"I have to sit there, pretend everything is fine, pretend my life isn't legitimately falling apart from this wedding, it's just really stressful. God, most other brides have it easy. I'd rather panic about the bill than the groom."
"I know, babe. And we're going to fix it all, but for appearances sake right now, you need to play that role and play it all off."
"Do you know how hard it is to play it all off?"
"Yes, almost as hard as it was for me to not tell your dad when I picked you up earlier."
"I literally can't even look at him without wanting to rip off his penis, Dyl."
"I know, Mass, I know. We can do that after, but for now, we need to pretend you're so fucking excited and elated to get married to the sleazeball, and Derrick and I need to act like we're so so happy for you."
"And he's happy, as usual. That's all that matters, that he gets what he wants."
"Well, what do you want?"
"To not be so fucking miserable."
"What can we do to help?" Derrick asked, popping his head inside the fitting room as he laid some more long, white dress options on the wall.
"You know what you can do?" Massie asked, standing up and collecting herself. Her eyes burned a bright amber flame as she told him, "bring me black."
Massie turned, patting a loving hand over the garment bag Derrick was carrying with the girls as they went to grab some lunch at one of the bistro cafes Westchester Mall had to offer. She dreamed of diving into a big glass of smoke stack chardonnay, and her jovani plunging number.
They still had to shop for Dylan, but Dylan offered to do that after they ate as her blood sugar was getting lower by each irrational choice Massie made.
"So, you'll be the beautiful bride in black?"
"Is that like the bride from hell?"
"I feel like we could make a really good album out of this, let me call Fish."
"Maybe you'll start the new trend!"
"The look on Kendra's face will be priceless!"
"What about Tristan?"
Massie's hurt never ached so badly from all the questions before, but Derrick and Dylan together leads to an overwhelming sense of conversation like no other.
"Can we talk about something else for a few? Migraine is coming." Massie muttered as they walked through the air conditioned doorway of the bistro.
Dylan requested a table for three, and led the group to one in the back. Once their hostess handed them menus and left them to plan their meals and drinks, the chestnut haired alpha let out a loud sigh that Dylan nor Derrick could ignore.
"I just...I guess I'm just nervous to see how this will all go, is all. But thinking is giving me a headache, talking about it is making my corneas flare up, and I don't have the stomach to keep planning about how everyone will handle it, namely my family."
"Mass, I know, but you know we wouldn't do this if we didn't have to."
"I know, Derrick, I do. I just..I wish I didn't get into this situation to start with, but I guess wishing for things doesn't really change the circumstances. Or pay the bills."
"How is the rest of the wedding planning being done, anyway?"
"My mom, she's doing it all now. I told her I was 'too stressed to handle it, do what you wish'. Either way, it's her credit card, her signature they need, so who really cares."
"I think we'll take a bottle of the chardonnay, and a bottle of the malbec. With a bread basket." Dylan ordered as their waitress came up to the table carrying three waters.
"Can we get a glass of ice as well?"
"Oh, and can we also split a caprese appetizer to start?"
"I promise we really aren't that high maintenance."
After demolishing one salad, two different paninis, and two bottles of wine, they were prepared to spend the next two hours dress hunting for Dylan.
"So, what color?"
"What about a pastel?"
"But I only like black!"
"We can make it work."
Dylan split up Massie and Derrick, figuring if the three pulled what they thought would work, there would have to be a winner in the pile between the three of them. Sighing, she pulled her hair tie off her wrist with her teeth, and messily tied her hair up into a bun as her phone rang. She paused, then begun to dig through her Givenchy purse to find her iPhone.
"Hey babe!" Plovert greeted her cheerily over the phone speaker as soon as Dylan answered.
"Ugh, thank god. I miss you!"
"I miss you too! I've been at the office all day, and I feel like I'm on my way to a breakthrough, so I wanted to call up my inspiration. How's your day going?"
"Shopping is literally taking forrrrr-ever."
"No luck with the dress?"
"Well, Massie's dress was what took the entire first half of the time we've been here. Mine, though, should be easier at least."
"Babe, you can pull off anything, you know that."
"I don't know about that, Chris. God, I haven't been in a room with all these girls in so long.."
"And you know you'll be the only one to measure up. You can't doubt yourself, Dyl." Chris spoke to her softly, although he could hear her ruffling through different materials on the other line.
"I'll take your word for it, babe. I gotta go though, Derrick and Massie have arm fulls of dresses and are glaring at me at the fitting room entrance."
"Love you baby, send me pics!"
"Do you think you're gonna be ready for this?" Derrick asked, leaning against the couches lining the fitting room entrance as he and Massie waited for Dylan to come out of the evening wear section.
"I do, I mean...I have to be, you know?"
"But you aren't doing it alone, so don't forget that."
"I know, thank God I have you two."
"Mass, you also have your other friends, too. Riv and Chris and you know Kemp will beat any ass any day of the week."
Derrick explained, leaning over and resting a hand on Massie's shoulder. He hated the tone in her voice, he hated the downright defeat sinking through each of her words.
"Yeah, you're right. It's just that I feel so fuckinh weak having all these people come to my rescue. I never needed anyone before, I was the one people needed, people wanted, people feared. Why does no one fear me anymore?"
Was she actually having a mental breakdown right now because people actually like her now? Derrick couldn't handle it, he knew he had his fair share of enemies throughout middle and high school, but he was so relieved now that they were disputed and resolved. He couldn't imagine going through college and real life knowing how many people might hate or be afraid of him. At least have the nerve to be an adult and be fake about it behind his back, you know?
"Because we aren't in grade school."
"I really think that's when I peaked."
It was a shame, Derrick thought to himself as he rubbed small circular patterns into her shoulder blades.
"If it helps, you still scare me."
"I do?"
"Yeah, but it's like a hot kind of scary. Like if I try to kiss you, are you gonna kiss me back, or try to slice my dick off with your nails? You never know."
Now he really wished he bit his tongue. Before she could offer a category Massie snarky response, Dylan came up to the two of them with a small pile of her own. "Let's do this!"
When Dylan stepped out of her fitting room with her hair tied up in a messy bun, wearing a mint green and black Allen Schwartz V-neck gown, a pair of dolce gabbana beige wedges and a diamond kite choker, Massie lost her nerves.
The dress hugged to every inch of Dylan's body, was something she would have tossed right out the door two year ago, hell, two months ago.
It was made for her, the way it fell down her hips and grazed the toned muscles in her back and butt.
The mint green highlighted her features sharply, while the black brought about a nice contrast that made anyone turn their heads.
It kept her body half on display, half in the shadows, and her hair popped against both the colors used in the dress.
"Done, done, and done. You don't have a choice, sorry. We'll take this one!" Massie called out to the fitting room assistant, Hanna 'with an a'.
Dylan's face flared up with a rogue blush, creeping up her fair neck and settling on her pale cheeks.
"You think?"
"I know. I think if you walked away with another dress today, you'd be an idiot."
"The colors suit you, really well. Chris is gonna die," Derrick smirked, coming over to give his two cents.
"As long as I can still wear my hair up, we're good here. Where's my Am Ex?"