Title: You Broke My Heart
A/ N: I've been torn about posting this chapter. I don't like my chapters too long but this one simply refused to end! I'm still apprehensive about posting my longest chapter yet. Thank you everyone so much, for putting up with my erratic schedule. XOXO
Whatever souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
-Emily Bronte
…..
Cherie thought he was the most irritable boy she had ever seen. And she lived with Lucien.
He had rumpled dark hair that his father kept smoothing much to his annoyance and a mother- who dramatically wept as she bade him farewell….almost as though she was sending him to battle. The parents quite clearly adored him but had no idea how to express their love. Hence they opted for expressing it as much as possible. Cherie stifled a giggle as his mother kissed the boy on the cheek and his whole face turned fire-engine red. He tried to wriggle out of her grasp but she refused to let him go until she had properly bid him adieu- just in case this was the last time she ever saw him.
By the time his parents drove off the dark haired boy looked relieved. Then he wiped the lipstick off his face and looked disgusted.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced lazily around….as though merely to see if there was anyone worth wasting his time over. He glanced at Chris and a couple of the other boys eagerly shoveling each other in the sandbox and looked contemptuous. He glanced at the girls running around pulling each other's pigtails and after a second's evaluation looked bored. Cherie found it impressive that there was no nervousness or timidity in him, just….lazy self assurance.
She was watching him with a vague interest until he happened to glance her way. He blinked once.
And then he froze.
…..
Mitch Sparks Baizen stood impatiently outside the kindergarten doors waiting for her. That vision in green he hadn't been able to get out of his head.
Thank God he'd finally gotten rid of his parents. They'd been acting so embarrassing like they'd never dropped him off to kindergarten before. His mother had burst into tears and wept how she couldn't believe her little boy was finally all grown up. Again. His father had smoothed up his carefully tousled hair effectively ruining all his hard work. Then his dad had topped it all with loudly declared that he had never been prouder in his life.
Mitch had to bite his tongue from telling his parents that he was going to school- not war.
After several mushy moments they'd finally left and Mitch had been so glad to wave them goodbye that his father commented once more on how BRAVE his little boy was acting when from inside he must be terrified.
Yeah right.
Him? Scared? Not happening.
Truthfully not much scared Mitch. Last summer when his parents had taken him to the snake house he'd had a freaking good time. And he had even felt some affection for his patronizing mother who was petrified of all things that wringled and hissed but still made it to the reptile park because she'd been too scared to let Mitch go alone. If that didn't prove her undying love he didn't know what did.
He knew his parents loved him a lot. He also knew that they had absolutely no idea how to show it so they resorted to showing it as embarrassingly as possible. He supposed it wasn't his parent's fault that they had no clue how to raise a four year old boy but very badly wanted to try anyway. He supposed he would just have to patient with them. They didn't know any better after all.
Wait where were we? Oh yeah. How he wasn't afraid of anything.
Sure switching schools was going to be hard. But he liked picking his own friends and when he solidified friendships he didn't break them. That had to mean something- that instinctive bond formed on pure insight. You don't break a promise to a friend.
And Mitch had promised his dad- yes the guy had no IDEA what he was doing but he was trying right?- his dad who was his best friend- that he would not put up too much of a tantrum over saying goodbye to his old kindergarten. And Carter Baizen was the coolest dad on this planet. He had let Mitch keep a beautiful grass green snake as a pet that his mother didn't even know about.
No worries. The snake wasn't poisonous at all. And it was already dropping its nasty temper.
Besides, Mitch could already feel he was was going to like it here.
About that trip to the docks. It turned out his parents actually knew the man Mitch had seen at the docks. The one with the sad looking kid.
"Look," Georgina Sparks Baizen said brightly. "It's Chuck ****ing Bass with something too cute for him."
She had been referring to the little girl, cuddled in her father's arms.
Carter had nudged her. "Georgie! Not in front of the kid!"
Georgina had looked shamefaced. "Oops!"
Mitch had pretended not to pay attention. Really it wasn't his parents fault. They were just so….helpless as parents. It wasn't that they didn't mean well. They just needed to be guided a little.
The first thing that Mitch had done that day after coming home from the docks was have his au pair google the name Chuck ****ing Bass. He found an explosion of webpages telling him exactly who Chuck ****ing Bass was. He also learnt that as his au pair read wikipedia (of course Mitch was too young to read or write much just yet)- Chuck ****ing Bass's daughter (that girl he'd seen at the pier) was Cherish Cornelia Elizabeth Bass.
Mitch's first thought was what sort of a name was that. His second was what the heck her parents had been thinking naming her that. His third was that he was under no circumstances calling her that.
Then he found out that she went to the same kindergarten he did. At that he had smirked.
He'd picked his first friend at St Jude's and Constance kindergarten.
It took a while before Mitch found Cherish Bass but when he did it was hard to miss her. She was a vision in the black and white burberry trench coat and ankle boots with her hair a mass of dark curls and her eyes too large in her pale face. He found himself thinking exactly the same thought he'd thought at the pier that day. That those eyes looked too sad to belong in such a cherubic face.
That honestly? That was the reason he had to get to know her. She seemed curiously sad and that... Bothered him.
Their gazes met. She stared at him and he stared back.
And for a second he was frozen.
He didn't really see the dark haired boy as he neared her, he didn't even notice the golden haired girl standing even closer. He approached her feeling drawn.
She blinked. Her eyes were raised to meet his. They're full on force was mind boggling.
"Hi," Mitch said to her.
Cherish didn't smile but it seemed to him she would have if she hadn't been so glum.
"Hi," she said softly.
Out of the corner of Mitch's eye he thought he saw the dark haired taller kid start towards him almost as though on reflex. The golden haired girl kicked him in the shins just as reflexively.
There was a snarling "Ow,"
Mitch grinned. "I'm Mitch Baizen," he told Cherish smoothly wishing she'd smile. Those huge quiet eyes pained him. "What's your name?"
Like he didn't know. But it was polite to ask.
"Cherie," she answered so softly he thought he misheard her until she said the words again, they felt like a curl of the glassy green tubes of waves flattening against his sandy feet. "Cherie Bass."
Cherie Bass. That was a little bit better. That he could deal with. So her parent's next step had been to name her after a fruit but that was okay. He glanced at her cherry red lips and strawberry pink flush and decided it wasn't such an inappropriate name after all.
"Hi Cherie," he said in a voice just as soft as hers. He wanted her to feel comfortable and besides the eavesdropping elder brother - (he'd figured that was what he was- there was something alike in their hair color and faces) - was not only annoying he was alarming.
True Mitch wasn't afraid of anything but seriously the tall kid looked prepared to beat him up if he made one wrong move. Hmm. Maybe there was something to his mother calling Chuck Bass a ****er. Mitch felt like calling the brother a ****er just to see if he'd actually punch him or not.
But his mother had taught him not to swear. And he wanted to make a good impression with the ladies. He didn't want to scare the girl before him at any rate.
So he said in a voice as soft as hers, "Hi Cherie. I'm new around here. And I don't really know anyone. Want to be friends?"
He was never planning on taking no as an answer.
And then something wonderful happened. She did smile. The first actual crescent he'd ever seen those cherry red lips shape into. She smiled, suddenly the whole world seemed alright again, the sadness in her eyes melted and simultaneously Mitch felt his breath catch.
"Sure," she answered in an easy tone and Mitch saw her brother frown behind her. "I'd love to be friends. I can't believe you're new. Did your parents make you switch mid year?"
Mitch observed in amazement as she chattered bright eyed, that one smile having transformed her. He picked up on the fact that she wasn't really shy. She was just... something had just happened…to….
She had been hurt recently. He didn't know how he knew that.
But he did.
"We moved from Chicago," he explained eager to keep that miraculous smile on her face. "My dad's business transferred to New York. I hated leaving. I just finished saying goodbye to all of my friends last week."
"How awful," her voice filled with sympathy that made him secretly smile. "I would hate leaving any of my friends. I'd never let us move." Those brown eyes widened curiously. "I've never been to Chicago. What is it like?"
And just like that she was his friend.
Mitch found himself explaining things to her he knew he could never justly explain. How the buildings back home were so tall sometimes that he could have looked up for ages but never spied the top. How New York just seemed to cold, didn't feel right. How his mother would spend ages in the shopping malls back home driving him crazy as she tried to fit different outfits over him until he accused her of obviously wishing he'd been born a girl. Of how his stomach had tied up when it had been time to hug his friend Parker goodbye. That sometimes he wished he could bottle time so it would stop moving. Cherie turned out to be an excellent listener and she seemed to understand and Mitch wondered if you could spill your four year old life story to a total stranger and still feel okay about it like he did.
And then suddenly it all went wrong.
They were talking, and the next something happened and Cherie's face just snapped up.
One second she was with him. And the next she was gone.
Ironically it wasn't even her brother who had caused the problem. The blonde haired girl (he totally owed her) was keeping a very firm grip on the brother's shoulder.
It was a guy. A guy that caused Mitch to narrow his eyes.
Stupid pretty faced boy bangs. It figured that he was blonde with these big stupid blue eyes and toothy smiles. She had run up to him so naturally it had seemed like a magnetic pull. And he was grinning at her, laughing. Mitch watched the brother walk up to the pair of them looking relieved and absolutely delighted. Mitch felt his gaze darken.
Suddenly, Cherie turned around and waved at Mitch to join her.
"Mitch!" She said brightly. "Meet Christopher Nathaniel Archibald. Chris this is Mitch"
Chris gave him a polite smile. Mitch hated that. When boys he wanted to beat up flashed him polite smiles. With difficulty he smiled back and then said, "Hey Cherie how about showing me the classrooms?"
"Sure," Cherie said. "C'mon you guys."
Mitch flashed Christopher a sweet smile of triumph. Take that boy bangs.
Either Christopher was genuinely stupid or just plain nice because he didn't notice the sarcasm behind the smile and practically beamed back. Mitch frowned.
Chris Archibald. He was going to have to do something about that one.
….
Seven weeks later:
"We spend the first twelve months of our children's lives teaching them to walk and talk and the next twelve telling them to sit down and shut up."
-Phyllis Diller
Charles sighed noisily as his cell buzzed in the middle of the colloquium.
He peeked quickly at the caller ID. Cherie. Of course.
He raised a hand to make the graying bore in front of him to stop yakking passionately about real estate and made a motion to leave the room.
Lawrence scowled at him.
Well, I'm sorry you feel that way. Maybe one day when you had a toddler daughter of your own, you'll understand.
Charles turned to the rest of the room and offered them a polite, "Excuse me, I have to take this."
Most of them nodded. But they sort of looked like they wanted to scowl too.
"Daddy?"
He had to smile a little at the familiar, demanding voice. He had dearly missed that voice during her weeks of silence. He had dearly missed the trace of impatience and hint laughter in a voice that could have only belonged to angels.
Or Blair, a million years ago.
"You weren't there when I woke up. Dorota said you left for work early. I said I wanted to talk to you but she told me to hush and finish my breakfast."
He chuckled softly. "I'm sorry I couldn't eat breakfast with you, Princess. I see so little of you as it is. Didn't Dorota make you any French crepe?"
"Yes," Cherie said grudgingly. "But she made me drink a whole glass of milk when she knows quite clearly that I'm lactose intolerant, Daddy!"
He laughed. "From where in the world did you that pick up?"
"Dorota told Aunty Serena to have some milk first, to set a good example for me. Aunty Serena looked sick and that's when I heard her say she was lactose intolerant, Daddy!"
"Well, I'll make sure Dorota finds some other means to provide you with dairy because of your little setback. Aren't you at school yet?"
"Not quite, daddy, and did you hear that Dorota caught me doing- helping Ashley with her homework and told me off! Daddy, I don't want to ever talk to Dorota again!"
"Now, now, surely you don't mean ever again," said Charles soothingly. "After all, whatever will happen when you want Dorota to take you to feed the ducks, or make you some crepes? You know nobody makes better blueberry crepes than Dorota."
"Oh, surely not?" Cherie sounded crestfallen. "What about all the Parisian bakers in the world daddy?"
"Well, we can try," said Charles doubtfully, "but it will be very, very hard to find such perfect crepes in all the world, Princess-"
"Well, alright," Cherie said reluctantly, "I suppose I could forgive her one last time….Mommy always used to say that Dorota means well, didn't she Daddy?"
"Yes, sweetheart, she did," Charles replied, his throat having closed up slightly.
"Then I'll be gracious and let the matter slide….Daddy, promise me you'll come home early?"
"Princess, I'm afraid-"
"Pretty please?" Cherie whined influentially, making Charles smile slightly. "With no cream, two teaspoon of brown sugar and very little milk on top?"
Charles burst out laughing. "That's exactly how I like my coffee. From where in the world did you get such a memory?"
"From Mommy, of course," Cherie replied proudly. "Please come home early Daddy?"
"I'll do my best, Princess," Charles promised. "I have to go now-"
"Oh, school's here- bye Daddy! Hey Ashley did you-"
The ring of the call snapping hummed in his ears. Charles grinned and removed the blackberry storm from his ear. Then he blinked when he abruptly realized he still had a meeting to attend. Damn these tedious events. With all honesty he'd much rather be at home, playing Trivial Pursuit with his delightfully intelligent daughter.
…..
Maybe she was becoming more spoilt as her years flew by. Or maybe just lonelier. But Cherish Bass called her father four more times that day.
She's not annoying. She's four. And has a cellphone. And misses her father.
Was it that terrible? She wondered. Dorota warned her not to disturb her father too much during work…. "He no say it, he laugh, but he very busy, he no like you calling Mees Cheree."
But she wanted to talk to him. She needed to.
Eventually she interrupted an important conference with Japanese investors and Charles's temper, already so close to the surface these days and precariously controlled just for the sweet little girl with the dimpled smile and pretty dark curls, began to simmer hazardously but silently.
"And then I told Chris that I wanted to be fairy princess but Ashley said she wanted to be, and Mrs. Fletcher picked Ashley for the main lead and I began to argue so she told me not to be a bad girl and then she found out I had a cell phone and she threatened to take it away and I hate her, daddy-"
"That's sounds nice," Charles said vaguely, noting that the investors were getting somewhat impatient. "Princess, call me in a while, will you, I'm a little busy right now-"
"But Daddy, Ms. Fletcher made me the stepsister! Because the princess has yellow hair and the stepsister has brown!" she was near tears now.
Charles was honestly not listening; he was too worried about each passing the minute the investors spent in his absence.
"Just lovely, Cherie call me in an hour okay-"
He hung up on her. Cherie was so scandalized that she stifled her strikingly scarlet phone into the overstuffed depths of her Beauty and the Beast little wheelie bag and promised herself she would not touch it again for her Daddy was a meanie and she definitely very nearly hated him too.
Beauty and the Beast her mother had gotten her. "Because sometimes the princess can be intelligent and bookish and brown haired too," Blair had said, "And she can still be beautiful to the Beast who was a Prince all along but had just forgotten."
Just forgotten.
"Can the Prince forget who he is Mommy?"
"Maybe. If the Princess isn't there to remind him."
To nobody's surprise Ashley's favorite fairytale was Cinderella. Lucien pretended to have no interest in Disney movies but Cherie thought she saw him shed a secret tear over Lion King- especially when little Simba put his paw in his father's much larger paw print and turned sad….although Cherie had not understood why exactly. To her, the most tragic scene had been of the running beasts….and the death of Musafa….which Lucien had watched dried eyed and with a hard face.
Mitch, she knew had a thing for the cartoon that was also his fathers favorite….Aladdin….the street thief turned prince.
Cherie giggled. Mitch always did like the sneaky heroes.
And Chris….somehow she couldn't remember who Chris had liked best.
Oh wait. Hercules. Because of those bulging muscles.
And Cherie's favorite Disney movie had been Beauty and the Beast….because her mother had watched it with her and it was a lovely memory.
When she had watched it again, with Ashley recently, her friend had been rather affronted by the beast and could hardly wait for the beast to turn prince. When he did, Ashley cheered and smiled, fully involved in the movie just before it was about to end. But after the initial joy over realizing that the Beast hadn't died….Cherie felt oddly unhappy. She had fallen for the hurt, oversensitive, bitter, brutish monster, who carried Belle like a gentleman during their dreamlike waltz. She had giggled at his endearing clumsiness and had warmed at his hesitant attempts to be loving. She had, by the end of the day, been besotted by the transition of the beast that would still give the impression of a beast- but who had in fact become a man. When the beast became a man literally though, she felt as though she had lost him, as though Belle had lost him, she missed his rough voice and too large gentle hands….she was glad when Belle too was suspicious and only trusting when she saw the prince still had the same pretty blue eyes….
She should also mention how much she loves the Hunchback of Notre Dame.
Cherie had cried when she saw the Hunchback of Norte Dame. It was a movie her mother had considered too mature for her….so when her mother left for her little 'trip', Cherie jumped on the opportunity to call over Ashley and Chris and even Mitch now watch the movie at once.
Ashley of course was delighted when the Esmeralda went for the good looking guy whose name Cherie could not recall for she had decided he was irrelevant. For she had been solidly on Quasimodo's side since she knew what it was like to be so lonely….to talk to things that didn't talk back….until you were alone with them. To be hidden away from so much of the world. To love and to never be sure….or even truly believe if you are worthy of love to begin with….
She whimpered whenever anybody called the hunchback a monster and adamantly thought that he was not, he was not a monster- just like she fought with her brother over the fact that Hulk wasn't a monster-he was just a surly man who'd been down on his luck and the world was stupid because they couldn't understand him, couldn't see that he was in fact a hero.
When Quasimodo had finally been turned down by Esmeralda, Cherie burst into the noisiest tears she had ever administered in public.
Chris had looked afraid. Ashley concerned and surprised. Mitch had just looked bored and tugged at her curl to get her attention.
"Cherie, why the heck should you want Esmeralda to pick Quasimodo? Just because she felt sorry for him?"
"No," Cherie bit back with tearful venom. "But because no one could ever love her as much as he did."
Mitch looked taken aback at the comment. Chris still looked afraid. And Ashley smiled and did not cheer for the good looking guy again.
Cherie felt tears in her eyes again as she sat in that classroom. That was why she loved Quasimodo and the Beast and Hulk. They were strong yet soft, petulant but they always made time for their Princess's unlike her father who couldn't even listen to what she was saying.
Since Cherie was only four she still wasn't exactly sure how the clock worked or how long an hour was….surely it must have been an hour by now….the long hand had travelled past four whole numbers…..she snuck out her phone and speed dialed her father again.
She had no one to talk to. Ashley was playing fairy princess and none of her other friends took English with her. And she missed…..she missed….
Well she missed her mother and for some reason even her father who was just a button away.
Both of them were so far away.
His voice came almost at once but it wasn't what she expected….it wasn't cheerful and engaging as it had been the last many times she'd called- it was gruff and tense. She went still as she heard him say, "Yes, Cherish, what is it this time?"
She knew the word Cherish distinctly meant to love someone very, very much but her father was always in a sour mood when he called her by her actual name.
A name he had picked himself because it had been an inside joke with her mother.
She filled her lungs with air and said mournfully, "Daddy, Ms. Fletcher sent me to the back because the inferior cast gets to rehearse later-"
She nearly dropped the phone when he exploded at her.
"Is this the reason why you called me for the thirteenth time?" he very nearly yelled. "Daddy this, daddy that, there is not a moment when I don't have you kids nagging me for something- if it isn't you it's your elder brother telling me how I don't do anything right- if it isn't him-it's- it's that-"
Young Cherie was appalled. No one- no one had ever yelled at her like this. It would have been different if she'd had her mother to talk to- her mother brightly waiting and asking her how her day went- her mother soothing her over the phone if Dorota accidently packed the wrong sandwiches- her mother tucking her in with a sweet kiss and the calming scent of Dior- her mother spending the whole day with her and Lucien- making Cherie laugh so much she was sure her side would burst- her mother taking her to Central park- her mother fixing Lucien's tie-her mother picking out her headbands- her mother feeding the ducks-her mother laughing- her mother teasing her father- her mother to whom she could complain about Daddy's office hours- her mother saying goodbye- her mother- her mother- her-
"I hate you!" she cried, the words she'd never said to her father- not ever really to anyone but in that instant she felt it to be true. "I hate you! You're a horrible daddy! You don't love me anymore, you don't love Liam anymore, you never tuck in Artie- you shout all the time- I wish- I wish my Mommy would come and take me with her!" and with a great sob she closed her phone and then dropped it and stomped at it with all her might.
"Holy…."
Cherie whirled around to see the stunned face of Mitch Sparks-Baizen staring at her.
…..
A wolfish grin erupted on his face as she watched him, ashen, barely recovered, tearful, "Cherie Bass. Well, well, well. Not so saintly now are we?"
She struggled to collect herself.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Cherie said coldly. "But I'll have you know I was just practicing."
Mitch looked more amused by the minute.
"Practicing…." He echoed in a soft voice.
"Yes," Cherie held her head high. "I have been chosen for the fall play."
"How wonderful," Mitch gave her a half smile she wasn't sure was a mocking sneer or a congratulatory beam. "Why, you must be none other than enchantly Cinderella. And yet, somehow I don't remember a scene in which Cinderella stamps her cellphone to death."
"Enchanting," she corrected acidly because she had no clue how to reply otherwise.
Mitch looked surprised. "So I take you aren't playing Cinderella? That does bring me down. I'm sure you would have played the part to perfection- you act like a Queen on an ordinary basis as it is."
She wasn't sure what he meant. She was Cherie Bass….shy, sweet toned, polite….when she wasn't losing a temper she didn't know she had the ability to lose….and smashing her posh cell phone with the shiny heel of her midnight black buckled school shoe.
"Yes, well I didn't," she couldn't help but let the sadness creep into her voice. "I get to be the wicked step sister instead."
Now Mitch looked truly appalled. "What?" he sputtered in genuine disgust. "Are you kidding me? You would make a terrible stepsister!"
"Er- thank you," Cherie said not certain whether to take this as a compliment or not. "But the play has relatively few female roles- and very few main leads. This way at least I'll have plenty of lines."
"Lines Shmines," Mitch scoffed. "It doesn't matter how many lines you have if they dress you into an ugly old maid. There is no one who would make a better princess than you."
"Except for Ashley Archibald," Cherie said with a small smile. "Cinderella reincarnated in real life."
"That ever-happy cheerleader to-be? What does she know? I doubt she can tell a waltz from a wag."
Cherie giggled involuntarily before saying, "Cheerleaders aren't so bad. Aunty Serena posed as a cheerleader last Halloween and dressed my Mommy as one too. My daddy couldn't stop staring and saying how much he loved the outfit and if my mother could perform a few cartwheels for him."
Mitch smirked at the sweetly innocent way Cherie said it. She was the only interesting thing in the whole damn kindergarten.
"Key word was Halloween," he informed her. "So- what's the plan for snagging the role of Cinderella?"
Cherie looked surprised. "What plan? I wasn't chosen, that's that. It's alright- I told you I mostly enjoy acting- that's where all the fun lies. Besides, Ashley got picked for the lead role. Ashley is my best friend. I'm supposed to be happy for her."
"Are you?" he asked dryly full well knowing the answer. She was too in love with the whole fairytale picture to ever tolerate anyone else playing the lead. Even it was Ashley Archibald.
Cherie glared at him. "Don't you have a class to go to or something?"
"Just art, no hurry," he said lazily, stretching his arms. "Besides arguing with you is much more interesting."
He leaned nonchalantly against the wall, presenting a much different picture from the charming, courteous boy who came over to her that morning. The boy, who unashamedly admitted that he was new, knew not a soul and asked if she would be friends with him.
She was already staring to rethink her decision. She had of course, impulsively said yes, because he asked so nicely and because it appalled her that someone's parent's would be clueless enough to make their child switch kindergarten midyear. Besides her mother had told her to beware of rude little boys who had strange habits of turning melancholic without any warning.
Mitch had seemed not in the least melancholic or rude. He'd had an easy smile and bright, observant eyes and through out their walk to classes had kept her and Ashley laughing. He had also beamed cheerfully at Lucien as the older boy had glared at him darkly.
Now she realized that Mitch's humorous nature had a sly side as well. He could be rude, indolent and very pushy.
"Now listen, Cherie," Mitch said with an air of a parent explaining the obvious to an overemotional toddler. "If you want to play Cinderella then you're going to have to make it happen. None of this smashing cellphones at the sidelines stuff. You can't keep all that rage and emotion bottled inside. You have to let lose of your emotions constructively by say….arguing your case."
She squinted at him. "Why do you talk like that?"
"My mother likes to watch a lot of Oprah," he waved a hand dismissively, "anyway, I suggest you go to Ms. Fletcher and demand a re-audition."
"Mitch I am not stealing the main role from my best friend."
"And how many times has she stolen the main role from you?" he asked patronizingly.
Cherie started to retort before trailing off.
The times Cherie and Ashley had entered Cherie's birthday party together and the very first complements had gone to her blonde friend and not her….the times Ashley had been picked first when they were playing soccer with the boys….not because she was any better than Cherie but because Davin Humphrey found her irresistible….the times Cherie had wanted to buy the Hermes purse in perfect navy blue and Ashley bought an identical one for herself in blood red-cheerfully declaring that this would make them seem like sister's….except the blood red would always overshadow the navy blue…..the time Uncle Eric got them both unicorns….and Cherie had insisted that the rainbow tailed one was hers and the curly yellow tailed one was Ashley's but Ashley had disagreed and Ashley had been right….Uncle Eric had gotten her the rainbow one.
The time when Cherie had wanted the role of Cinderella so badly….but Ashley had wanted it too and Ashley had gotten it.
"I thought so," Mitch replied for her smugly. "Cherie I think if you truly want the part you shouldn't back down….because Ashley will continue to acquire all the glass slippers thrown her way….but you….you're the one who knows that it is not the stars that hold our destiny. It's ourselves."
"Seriously why do you talk like that?"
"I like Shakespeare sonnets," he said sounding bored. "Now are you going to re-audition or
what?
"What."Cherie replied wearily. "Mitch I appreciate the concern…..and the metaphors….but it's alright. I'm used to it now. I don't care anymore."
And she walked away leaving him staring after her disbelievingly….and a very smashed cell phone beeping feebly albeit repeatedly as someone just kept on calling.
….
Lucien Bass blinked in surprise as he realized who was calling him.
Charles Bass.
Not daddy. Not dad. Charles Bass.
It hurt less this way.
He wasn't sure when he'd switched the caller ID. He didn't think he cared.
He and his father had been getting along better lately….but not by much. Lucien couldn't help being defiant and offensive most of the time….it was who he was. And his father couldn't help being a self-possessed slab of granite.
Still, Lucien had not received a call from Charles Bass in….well it had been a very long time since he'd received a call from Charles Bass. The last time had been nearly more than half a year ago one very rainy night when his Dad had called him when they had all been vacationing in London….
"Raining here too….terribly….won't be sure if we'll make it by dinner- you watch over your sister alright? Tell her not to be afraid of the thunder- it's only Zues playing….she watched Hercules yesterday, she'll love that theory. Of course then she'll insist that Zues isn't real and elaborate on the water cycle. Such a damn night to be out. You're not afraid are you?"
The last time his father had asked him if was afraid.
"Not at all," he'd lied.
"You can't imagine how glad your mother and I am that your sister has you. She loves thunderstorms she should be alright but she'll get upset if that damn kitten's hiding under the bed again. She had to get the kitten that's a tiger when it comes to disobeying me but the cowardly lion when it comes to loud noises. We should have gotten her a dog. She had to inherit her mother's habit of bringing poor, furry creatures home, hadn't she?"
There was a muffled "hey!" and the sound of something thudding. Charles- Chuck was laughing.
Laughing.
"I'm being attacked-" he said in mock helplessness and Blair's muffled, distant voice came from behind him. "Lucien I have to go now but we'll try to make it home soon. You know I love you right?"
"Sure Dad," he said lightly, because then he had known, had been sure. "I'll take care of Cherie and you can take care of Mom."
"Deal," Chuck said promptly as there was more thudding. "Although neither of them needs much protecting- in fact I'm the one that needs protecting from both of them- you're lucky your mother and your sister happen to love you-"
There was a muffled "Ow!" and then more laughter.
"I have to go now, Lucien," Chuck said cheerfully. "Blair's saying goodbye again. And remember if this was a cartoon it would just be Zues playing alright? And I love you."
"I remember dad," he thought, staring at the buzzing phone. "At least I try to."
Even if you don't.
He picked up the phone.
"What took so long?" Charles demanded the second Lucien clicked the receiving button.
He sighed. "I do attend classes you know. In case that slipped your memory. I had to get a hall pass to receive this."
Not that you would realize.
"Oh," Charles paused then rocketed off, "Have you heard from your sister?"
"Sure," Lucien popped open his locker and grabbed an apple. It was a good thing the hallways were deserted. "We talked just this morning. You know, at breakfast, which you missed-"
"Listen," Charles said in a low, dangerous voice. "I don't have time for your guilt tripping right now. Have you seen Cherie at all since you two reached school?"
Stung, Lucien took a bite of the apple and slammed the locker shut. "Gee, dad, I don't know which planet you're living on these days but Cherie and I have thoroughly different classes considering I'm in first grade and she's in like prep school. The last time I saw her was recess."
"When was that?" Charles asked sounding completely like an alien landed from Mars.
"Um," Lucien trudged towards the bathrooms. "At lunch?"
Something in his voice seemed to add the word duh.
Charles grinded his teeth. "Liam," he said using the nickname Blair reserved for him and shocking the boy so much that he nearly dropped his apple. "Please try and find your sister for me."
Lucien blinked. "Say that again."
Really, he was just so confused and surprised by the "please".
Charles burst out. "You're enjoining this aren't you? You don't understand. Her cell phone is not responding at all. I must have called a hundred times. And she isn't in her classes. I called the principle. They have custodians looking for her. But knowing Cherie, this isn't enough. I just need you to find her. Alright?"
"Let me get this straight," Lucien had now dropped his backpack and was frozen mid hallway. "You want me to skip class, possibly get detention and go to the kindergarten girls section to find Cherie?"
"Yes," said Charles as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Dad," Lucien knew his sister way too well to not understand this. "What did you say to her?"
Chuck paused.
"We argued," he said wearily. "I might have yelled at her-"
"Yelled at her?" Lucien voice was a soft, lethal hiss.
"I was just- trying to get these tight ass- I mean assiduous investors to sign a contact and she kept calling-"
"You yelled at my sister?" Lucien demanded. "You yelled at the girl who got cured of Somatoform disorder by falling down the stairs a month ago? You yelled at her because she wanted to talk to you?"
How ironic. A month ago his father would have fallen on his knees to hear a coherent word from Cherie. And now she's in disgrace because she talks too much?
Maybe she is annoying. But she's four. And going through hell.
"Just…."Charles sounded so exhausted Lucien might have sympathized if he wasn't so furious. "Find her."
Lucien is too busy struggling to think of an appropriate curse to hurl at his father. No wonder they can't get along. His father so isn't worth it.
"Or tell me where she is- you would know and I'll send Mike-" Charles added.
"There's a reason you don't like talking to me," Lucien told him, throwing the apple into the nearest trashcan. "I tell you truth about who you are. I show you the mirror."
"Lucien-"
"-And that stings Dad. Doesn't it?"
He snapped the cell phone shut and ran out.
…..
The story book showed a beautiful picture of a blood red rose encased in a glass bell jar, dropping petals painstakingly.
In elegant, twisiting script the cover read: Beauty and the Beast.
"Because sometimes the princess can be intelligent and bookish and brunette too," Blair was saying, "And she can still be beautiful to the Beast who was a Prince all along but had just forgotten."
Just forgotten.
"Can the Prince forget who he is Mommy?"
"Maybe. If the Princess isn't there to remind him."
Cherie looked worried, watching the bloody petals fall. "What if the Princess never comes? Does the Prince never remember? Does it get too late?"
Blair kissed her forehead. "Don't be silly darling. Don't you know? The Princess always comes."
But then again….
That had been just a fairytale
.