Hey everyone, sorry I've taken a while to update but here's the next chapter. If you get the chance, please check out my profile on here. I've linked some fantastic Angelick fan art done by AC Mae and tomorrow I'm going to link a couple of pictures of the girl I imagine playing Angela when I write and also some of the outfits I describe her wearing. Just stuff like that so check it out sometime if you're interested.
Sorry about the poor editing, I've cranked this out at 3:30am.
Angela Ruskin was by no intents or purposes, avaricious like most carnies or many teenage girls. Her family certainly had money, yes. A fact she was constantly reminded of when she had to go see her grandparents who owned another successful, money-making carnival in France without even having to leave their Parisian townhouse. Angela could see Danny was gruesomely appreciative of the lifestyle that was waiting for him when he was older whereas the idea always made her feel nauseous when she thought about it. Perhaps it was the daunting task of inheriting all of this one day. Though since her father was so young, that probably wasn't something she needed to worry about for a few more decades and even then Danny would be better suited to the role. She always felt that she didn't fit in the carnival world but it was no better in the upper class world her grandparents tried to conform her to either.
Her grandparents and father tended to dote on her with sparkly jewellery, chic make-up and perfume and expensive clothes. She accepted her gifts politely but could never bring herself to put them to any use since all she could think about was the fact the money spent of them was earned by carnies that probably were struggling to put food on the table. Not to mention, what they chose was not her style at all. Angela suited high waisted shorts, polka dots, plaid shirts, skater skirts and retro stripes. Even though she wasn't particularly girly, her frequent visits to second hand stores and late nights repairing and making clothing out of materials she found had left her drawers bursting with clothes. She usually ripped the tags off of her new clothes and gave the cashmere sweaters, fur laced coats, silk blouses and lacy dresses (that could put a family in groceries for a fortnight) and mixed them in with scarves and gloves she had knitted herself and gradually gave them to families that had younger girls by telling them that she didn't wear them or they didn't fit her anymore. The beauty of it all was that the parents didn't even realise or care about the brand or material of the garment, they were just grateful their child might have something warm to wear when it got cold.
Angela suspected her father knew about this but didn't say anything since he seemed to accept her strange behaviour when it came to this lifestyle. She wished her grandparents and other carnies felt the same way. Ruskin's were supposed to be poised, elegant and put themselves above the other carnies. Apparently, that's what Rory, her last headache, had been expecting. Another relationship that had been fuelled by a family's mistaken belief that setting up their son with her was a one-way ticket to the carnival kingdom. Luckily, they tended to decide fairly quickly that she wasn't the polished princess they had been expecting and too much of a handful before she invested too much of her time in them. None of her previous dates had made it past the 'that was worth shaving my legs for' stage and her date outfit selection process went with whatever was clean and not too crumpled. Tonight, though, was a different story entirely.
She was on the floor throwing every garment over her head, groaning and complaining to herself loudly as she did so. Her father and brother's responses just made her more frustrated. Men just didn't understand that having lots of clothes and having something to wear were two entirely different things.
Angela eventually picked a red and blue plaid tank top and a long and flowy high waisted sky blue skirt that Patrick had once complimented her in when they went ice-skating. She found a red pair of wedges that didn't look half bad and tied her hair back into a ponytail with a red ribbon. It wasn't particularly glamourous but she felt girlier and cuter than her usual self so that could only be an improvement.
She heard a loud knock on the front door and the distinct shuffle of reluctant feet getting up off the couch. "I'll get it!" she yelled as she detangled herself from the strap of her handbag that had worked its way around her ankle inconveniently as she ran down the hallway. "I'LL GET IT!" she repeated again and used Danny's head to balance as she climbed and leapt over the couch to the door. She ducked under fathers arm to reach the door first. "I said I got it, Dad!" she scowled as both their hands got to the doorknob at the same time. There was a thirty second stand off as they both glared at each other, unrelenting before Jonathan slipped his hand off of hers and into a fist at his side. He sulkily took his position over in the corner of the room with his arms folded uncharacteristically. He had been a little suspicious of the boy for a while now especially since he and Angela spent every breathing moment together. He had dealt with the sleepovers; the long car rides and even whatever had been going on in her room last week only because Angela swore to him that Patrick was in no way interested in her. But now he could feel his usual carefree attitude starting to dissipate now that this nineteen year old boy warm-blooded male was interested in his daughter that he had stupidly let run wild with the boy for a long time now.
Angela took a few deep breaths, trying to ignore her heart which was thudding loudly and the butterflies that were bursting inside her stomach. She opened the door and saw him standing there, positively beaming at her.
"Hello," he said to her and she felt her knees go wobbly. It was silly that this boy, the boy who she had been friends with for years, gone on countless trips with and had even seen her naked, suddenly made her feel this nervous now. Maybe it was because this was a date and therefore a social setting that they had not really engaged in with any romantic connotations with each other before. Or it could have been how he'd worked extra hard to make his hair neat and failed. Though, she suspected her body was reacting in most to the way he was looking at her right now.
"Hi," she said looking at her shoes, trying to sound nonchalant but noticing how her voice sounded strangled. Patrick returned Danny's enthusiastic greeting and politely said hello to Jonathan whose reply seemed more forced and not as warm as usual.
Patrick wasn't used to this distrusting, disapproving Jonathan though he welcomed it graciously knowing that if there was any man whose love for Angela could compare to his, it was Jonathan's. It was only natural for his demeanour to change as Patrick and Angela's relationship changed. Patrick revelled in the knowledge that Jonathan had nothing to worry about but then remember he was planning on deflowering Jonathan's precious daughter in a matter of days and suddenly felt a little guilty around the man.
"I got you something," Patrick told Angela, reaching into his pocket and Jonathan swore if he saw the smallest hint of a ring box he would break the boy's knees before he could get down on one. His hand returned in a fist which he circled majestically with his other hand before flicking out a candy apple wrapped in brightly coloured plastic. Danny was dutifully impressed and amazed as ever whereas Jonathan rolled his eyes and joined his son back on the couch.
"Thanks," Angela said with a smile.
"A little less conventional than flowers."
"Well it smells just as good and I can eat it and I like eating things," Angela said closing the front door. "So all in all, a good new convention…you could work on your presentation a little, though. I could do that trick when I was five," she teased as she jumped down the stairs, her ponytail and red bow bobbing energetically as she did so.
Patrick jumped down ahead of her and took her by the waist to lift her off the last step, making sure to twirl her once so her skirt did the spinny thing. He set her on her feet and placed a kiss on her forehead.
"You look beautiful tonight," he told her and grabbed her hand to quickly escape the busiest hour of the carnival.
The car was better and worse than Patrick was expecting. Better because there were no awkward silences as they chatted as they usually did but worse because it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to be within this proximity to Angela Ruskin, trying to believe the reality that she was here with him, looking absolutely beautiful and on a date with him. Patrick had scoured the local newspaper and found out that Angela's favourite movie was playing as some kind of Christmas movie week at the local outdoor cinema.
He wished he could've done something a little more special and a little less clichéd as a movie but he knew how much Angela was fascinated by it all. Movies, street crossings, park benches, aeroplanes, mortgages, schools…
She was fascinated by any form of normalcy. The everyday, pedestrian life of marks. Patrick wasn't sure why she felt this way, but he adored it. They arrived at the small park and Patrick got out a blanket and a bag from his car. They walked down the lane that was lined with trees that had a line of lightbulbs strung across them.
"What a Wonderful Life is my favourite movie!" Angela informed him in amazement as the movie title was written in loopy script on a blackboard next to the portable ticket booth. Angela felt very strange to be on the other side of a booth but it was a good feeling.
The oncoming of twilight brought the pink sky to a purple and Patrick was attempting to prevent his breath being taken away by Angela who was looking at the inflatable screen, the trees, the lights and the other people in curiosity and amazement while she nibbled on her candy apple.
Patrick lay the blanket down on what he thought was an appropriate spot on the grass and Angela sat cross-legged next to him, practically bouncing. He had only seen this movie once and barely remembered it since he was seven and his Dad had sat him in front of the television to watch it once Christmas eve so he could go out. All he remembered was that it was in black and white.
One of the perks about growing up at the carnival was unlimited supply of junk food so Patrick had gotten popcorn, cotton candy, donuts and two bottles of homemade lemonade and laid it in front of them as the lights dimmed as the sky got dark enough for the movie to begin. Angela's bites from her candy apple became fewer and far between as the introduction of the movie progressed. Patrick followed the introduction rather well. The main character, a man who had sacrificed his dreams and happiness to help other people was attempting to commit suicide on Christmas Eve as he believed he is worth more dead to his family than alive due to the life insurance that would save them when his guardian angel showed up.
It seemed an appropriately festive heart warming tale but Patrick was curious as to why Angela was so attracted to it. Patrick glanced at her to see her holding her bag of popcorn close, as if it were a security blanket while he stifled his smile. She was watching adorably fascinated, and he discreetly watched her through his peripheral vision. When Angela caught him, she'd glare and motion for Patrick to look at the screen.
In the movie, George, the main character, was talking with his love, Mary. "What is it you want, Mary? What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down. Hey. That's a pretty good idea. I'll give you the moon, Mary."
Angela mouthed along the script effortlessly and her warm hand found his in the dark. She unwound his tight fist and spread out her warm small hand that fit into his palm easily. She didn't take her eyes off the screen as he pressed a chaste kiss to her hand and covered her shoulders with an extra blanket he'd brought along as her chilly breath was visible.
She leaned forwards so she was lying on her stomach, leaning on her elbows so she could rest her face in her hands. Patrick played idly with her ponytail while watching George and Mary go through all the trials of life.
The movie began to wrap up with the guardian angel showing George, who wished he had never been born, what life would be like for his family and friends if that in fact been true.
"Every man on that transport died! Harry wasn't there to save them, because you weren't there to save Harry," the angel said. "You see, George, you really had a wonderful life. Don't you see what a mistake it would be to throw it away?"
Patrick glanced back at Angela and was surprised to see tears sparking on her cheeks like diamonds that she wiped away quickly with her fingers. At first he assumed that it was a touched reaction to this man realising how much people loved him and how wonderful his life was until Patrick remembered Sam telling him how Angela's mother had died and he felt his heart sink horribly.
Angela determinedly kept her eyes on the touching traditional family scene with a happy wife and husband surrounded by their loved children around their Christmas tree. The ending credits began to roll and couples packed up and filed out of the park within a few minutes. Patrick pretended to busy himself with packing up their belongings so Angela could lie there and rub her eyes in privacy.
He tentatively rolled her on to her back and despite, the slight puffy redness of her eyes, she smiled mesmerisingly at him.
"Did you like it?" she asked.
"I did," he admitted and leaned next to her on one elbow so his other hand could caress her fingers that had settled on her stomach. She played with his hand distractedly, tracing the shape of his fingers and measuring the size between his and her own.
Angela glanced up and noticed he was still looking at her. She grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down to her face to kiss him. Her lips tasted of toffee, apple and lemonade. She went back to playing with his hand and they talked about the movie a little more. "I like the end," Angela said quietly. "When he decides to live and he is happy with his family."
Patrick brushed her cheek with the back of his hand and traced her lips with his thumb. "You're going to have that all too one day."
Angela's eyes welled up against her will and she tried smiling. "You really think so?"
"Sure," he said. "Look how great you are with looking after your family now."
She bit her lip to prevent herself from crying and making an absolute fool of herself.
"Thank you," she said and could feel tears falling underneath her eyelashes and betraying her. "I've tried really hard to look after them since mum died. But it's really hard sometimes."
"I know," he said, brushing her tears away with his thumbs and holding her face. "You know how much you mean to me, right? How much you mean to everyone?"
"I didn't mean that much to her though."
"You know she loves you, my Angel," he said, kissing her palms.
"She got trapped into this lifestyle because she got pregnant with me," Angela started to cry silently. "She hated it here so much and was so trapped that she…"
Patrick held her face more tightly in his hands and leaned so their foreheads were touching.
"Don't you ever think it's your fault, my Angel," he said seriously. "She loved you. And so do I. Your existence was the greatest thing to ever happen to me. I love you so much, my darling," he kissed her forehead. "You're going to have an amazing life, baby, I promise."
He pulled her up into his warm embrace and held her close.
Patrick brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're safe here, you can cry if you need to."
He felt helpless as he stroked her hair while she sobbed into his chest, telling her to let it out and reminding her every few minutes that he loved her and that everything was going to be okay.
Angela eventually pulled back and wiped her eyes looking frustrated at herself.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm not usually like this when I got out on dates."
He smiled and playing with that wayward strand of hair by her face again.
"Don't ever apologise," he told her. "I've had the most amazing time with you...as always."
She smiled and he felt his heart crack somewhat. He was pretty good at hiding his emotions but he couldn't imagine how difficult it would be to constantly put on a happy face for your family and everyone else when you were this miserable. He left the urge to pack her in the car and take her far, far away from everything.
The park was completely dark and empty except for the brightness of the stars and the sounds of crickets while they talked light-heartedly about everything else. Angela told him her favourite quote from the movie was when George told Mary he was going to give her the moon and Patrick rolled his eyes.
"It's sweet!" she said defensively, shoving him in the arm and he laughed.
He cleared his throat nervously. "We should probably, um, think of a story to tell your dad about where you're staying on your birthday night. Since I don't think he's exactly going to let you sleep over with me anymore."
"Oh, that's true," she said thoughtfully. "I'm sure I can think of something. Where are we going exactly?"
"It's a surprise, Evangeline," he teased and pulled her closer to him.
She frowned in disapproval so her nose scrunched up and he kissed her softly.
Patrick wasn't sure how the soft kisses gradually built up to more passionate, more fervent kissing but they somehow got there. Patrick ended up on his back with Angela on top of him. Her fingers were knotted in his hair as he pressed eager, open mouthed kisses to her neck and shoulders. His hands pulled at her top, untucking it from her skirt before pulling it over her head with help from the fluid movements of her body. He rolled over so she was underneath him and trailed kisses along her stomach, admiring the contours of her body in the moonlight. Somehow, his vest and shirt ended up in a crumpled heap next to them as they rolled around on the blanket, kissing and exploring each other's bodies with hungry and impatient longing. Patrick was worried he was going to think 'to hell with it' and take her virginity tonight if she were willing but they were interrupted by a flashlight and a shout of angry yelling from the groundskeeper who had come to pack up the screen and gates.
Patrick managed to scoop his bag and Angela up all in the blanket and carry her while running down the path to the car. Both were laughing and short of breath (although there was no running done by Angela herself, the activities were energy sapping enough) when they got into the car and Angela pulled her top back on before Patrick could admire her lacy blue bra in better light.
He held her hand and drove with the other down the empty streets to the carnival while they talked conversationally. Patrick felt her hand go limp in his and her sentence drift off into an inaudible ramble. He glanced over and she had fallen asleep.
Patrick smiled and pulled into an empty space near her home. He shut the door quietly after making sure in the mirror that the lipstick on the corners of his mouth were wiped away, his vest was straight and flattened his sex hair. Gently, he scooped her out of the car and walked to her front door, still breathless from the sheer perfection that lay in his arms, snuggling against his chest and clutching a handful of his shirt.
He fumbled slightly, reaching the key in her skirt pocket and opened the door quietly. Jonathan was asleep on the couch with the television still on, obviously waiting for her to get home. Patrick quietly walked down the hallway and placed her on the bed. She let out a heartbreaking whimper as he adjusted her quilt around her. He slid off his jacket and tucked it under her cheek like a pillow and she nuzzled into it softly with a smile now present on her face.
Patrick smiled too, kissing her cheek and murmuring goodnight to her.
Angela's birthday up next! /forever coming up with ways to keep this fic going as long as possible because it's too sad to end :'(