This is a short story based on characters that I do not own and references to established works.

This is a reimagining of the fairytale Beauty and the Beast, with those characters and references.

Chapter 5

"The Friendship"

After that night, Trina and the Beast, who revealed his name to be Spencer, slowly became friends. Spencer felt that Trina's care of him when he was wounded came from a very genuine place of kindness. "Perhaps the beautiful Trina could soon grow to be my true friend," Spencer thought to himself. With the thought of that possibility, Spencer was determined to build a meaningful friendship with Trina.

Each day, they would start off with a big breakfast before they would walk around the grounds of the mansion and talk about a variety of topics that they discovered that they had in common. One of those topics was art. That would prove to be the biggest source of connection between the two.

Trina loved being able to go to the art studio each day after lunch. That was usually when Spencer would go inside his home office to conduct his daily business for Cassadine Industries. Sometimes, Trina would paint pictures of the mansion's beautiful grounds. On other days, she would go around the mansion and take photographs of some of the opulent rooms and their furnishings. There was one particular time when Trina was motivated to sculpt a mini statue for Spencer to place in his office.

Upon receiving that token, Spencer was very touched. On his way to place it in his office, he took a detour and went to the West Wing. He had been so happy in the last few weeks that he had almost forgotten about the rose and his fast-approaching twenty-first birthday. He knew that he was beginning to feel something for Trina, but he was not sure that it was love, and he definitely had no idea how she felt about him. "There's still time," he thought to himself as he walked out of the room. As the door closed behind him, Spencer did not notice as a petal fell from the rose.

"I have an idea!" Trina said happily one morning after breakfast, as she and Spencer walked around the grounds.

"I would really love to paint a portrait of you. Would you be willing to sit for me?" Trina asked.

Spencer's scarred and wrinkled brow furrowed, as he frowned. "Why on earth would you want to paint my portrait? Look at me! I'm a beast!" he raged and prepared to walk away. But before he could, Trina ran in front of him to block his departure.

Trina's feistiness came out in full force as she confronted him. "You are NOT a beast! I will not listen to such talk. You are my friend," she said softly. "My very dear friend," she continued, as she put her hand up to his face and traced over each and every scar and wrinkle.

It had been so long since Spencer had felt a human touch that he began to cry.

To lighten the mood, Trina responded by saying, "My what a big baby you continue to be my friend. So, does this mean that you will sit for me? My time here is almost up."

Realizing that within the week, Trina would be gone and his birthday would arrive, Spencer wanted to spend what time they had left together. As a result, he agreed. For the next three days, Spencer and Trina had a glorious time, as she painted his portrait. She put him so at ease that he would often forget his beast-like appearance. There were times when Spencer would ask to see the portrait, but Trina would always say, "No, when it's time, you will see it."

While the days were passing, more and more petals fell from the enchanted rose. Although Spencer had developed strong feelings for Trina, he was not sure if she felt the same or if she was just counting the days down until she could leave. If the latter was true, he was determined to have the best last night with her.

"I have arranged for a night of elegance for us tonight, in recognition of your last full day here," Spencer told Trina, who tried to hide her disappointment at the reminder.

"When you return to your room, you will find your clothes for the night, along with some helpful hands to assist you in getting ready," Spencer concluded.

With that, Trina dashed off to her room, where there were people there waiting to style her hair, do her make-up, and help get her dressed.

"My, Spencer really thought of everything," Trina thought as she allowed herself to be pampered.

Finally, she was ready. As she descended the staircase, Spencer appeared in a handsome black tuxedo, with tails. He bowed and, as he got a good look at Trina, he was momentarily speechless.

"My God, you're a vision," he said sincerely.

"Thank you, kind sir," Trina replied.

"Kind? Could she possibly be serious? Does she actually see kindness in me?" Spencer thought.

The closer Trina got to him, the more Spencer was able to appreciate her beauty.

Her hair, which she usually kept pulled back into a ponytail, was down and flowing past her shoulders. Her gown was a regal purple and flowed as she walked. As she descended the last step, Spencer reached for her hand to help her down. Their eyes met and remained locked for moments, until he kissed her hand and escorted her to the ballroom. There was a small group of musicians set up, who were playing the most beautiful music as they entered.

"May I have this dance?" Spencer asked.

"This one and all the ones after that," Trina responded sweetly.

Spencer took her in his arms and they danced and danced and danced, as if they would have those moments forever. Afterwards, they ate a most decadent dinner, followed by the most scrumptious dessert.

"This has been the best night of my life," Trina told Spencer, as they headed to the art studio. "I have a surprise for you. Your portrait is finished," she beamed.

"Well, I can't wait to see it!" Spencer said, realizing that he was more eager than he ever expected.

When they began to make their way towards the art studio, they were interrupted by thunderous knocks at the door.

"Open up, you beast! We know you're in there and we know you've got Trina! So open up, now!" raged a voice well-known to Trina.

"That doesn't sound like your father," Spencer said.

"It's not," Trina said, both disgusted and somewhat fearful. "It's Dex."