Chapter 2: The White Stranger & Fuschia Part II
P.S. Although the White Stranger doesn't have an official name in the series, he will be referred to as Thomas Oliver in this fan fiction.
Fuchsia O'Hara's House, 8:52 PM
Upon entering the house, Fuschia and The White Stranger settled themselves on the living room sofa. Fuschia, curious, turned to her companion. "So, White Stranger, I'd love to hear more about you," she encouraged. The White Stranger nodded, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "In my younger days, deer hunting was a frequent pursuit of mine," he shared. Fuschia's eyes widened in genuine surprise. "Is that so?" she responded with intrigue.
Certainly, it was the greatest achievement of my life. Yet, that wasn't my sole endeavor. "What else have you undertaken?" inquired Fuchsia, her concern evident. "I've also been training in combat, as a precaution for any future adversities," I explained. "That's commendable," she responded with approval.
"I recently had this wild encounter with these Alien creatures right before you came to town," he shared. Fuschia chuckled, "Alien creatures? Really? You're joking, right?" "No joke, I'm dead serious. And there was this woman fighting by my side who looked just like you," I pressed on. Fuschia's laughter faded, replaced by a furrowed brow. "What are you talking about?" she asked, her confusion evident. "Forget it, it's all in the past now," he dismissed. Fuschia nodded, though her expression remained one of bewilderment.
Alright then, Fuschia, can you share something about yourself? Honestly, I don't have many claims to fame, except for being known as the daughter of wealthy parents. I've attempted to date two guys previously, but they rejected me, believing I was a spoiled brat who always gets her way, which isn't the case. But here I am with you, and I don't believe you're a brat at all. Thank you, I truly value your kind words. You're welcome.
"What would you like to do next?" inquired the White Stranger. "Perhaps a game of chess," Fuschia replied. "Really? You have a chess set here?" "Indeed, it's always tucked away in my downstairs closet." "Alright then, shall we play a match?" "Absolutely."
Fuschia pulls the game out of her downstairs closet and carries it to the living room. "You know how to play this, right?" she inquires. "Absolutely, I do. It was a staple of my childhood; I played it constantly with my mom," he responded. "Cool," Fuschia remarked.
"Let's play," said the White Stranger. He moves his chess piece. It was now Fuschia's turn. As she moved her piece, she noticed the White Stranger had already made a mistake. Seizing the opportunity, Fuschia declared, "Checkmate, I win." The White Stranger sighed, "Ah, darn it, you got me." Fuschia replied confidently, "Yes, I did. I'm quite skilled at this game; it's what I do sometimes when I'm alone at home." "Oh, that's nice," he acknowledged. "Indeed, it is," Fuschia agreed, storing the game back in her closet.
"Fuschia, I need to share something personal with you," Fuschia's eyes widened with concern. "What is it?" she inquired. After Taking a deep breath, he confessed, "My real name is Thomas Oliver." Fuschia gasped in surprise. "You've had a name all this time and chose not to share it?" she asked. "Yes, because if people knew, it would spread across Angel Grove," he explained. Fuschia nodded, her expression softening. "Your secret's safe with me. I'll ensure no one discovers your name," she promised. "Thank you, Fuschia. I knew I could count on you to keep my name confidential." She smiled reassuringly. "It's no problem at all, Thomas."
"Hey, I have a phonograph in my room if you're up for some music," offered Fuschia. "Sure, I'd love that," Thomas replied with enthusiasm. "Alright, I'll just grab it from my room real quick. I'll be right back," said Fuschia as she hurried upstairs. "Okay," Thomas said, waiting eagerly as Fuschia went to retrieve her phonograph.
While Fuschia was upstairs retrieving the phonograph, Thomas found himself deep in thought. "When is the right moment to ask her on a date? And even if I do, would she accept?" he wondered, the uncertainty tangling his thoughts. Deciding not to let the stress get the better of him, he took a deep breath and resolved to let things unfold naturally. Soon after that, Fuschia returned downstairs with the phonograph and a selection of music records in her hand, ready to fill the room with melodies.
I'm back, are you ready to dive into some tunes? Absolutely! Great, I'll just set this down, and then we can spin some vinyl. Hold on, do I get to choose a track? Of course, Fuschia replied. Let's see... Ah, Nocturne Op.9 No.2, that's the one! Thomas places the record on the phonograph. The room is filled with music.
This song is beautiful, Thomas. I had no idea you enjoyed this genre of music. I've always liked it; I just never shared it with anyone. Well, it seems I'm the first person outside of your family to be privy to this now.
Thomas extended his hand to Fuschia. "Would you like to dance?" he asked. "Sure," Fuschia replied, her fingers gently clasping Thomas's hand. "We'll take it slow," Thomas assured her. "Okay," said Fuschia agreeing with a smile.
As Thomas and Fuchsia began their waltz, laughter mingled with the melody filling the living room. They danced, lost in the moment. In her mind, Fuchsia whispered a heartfelt wish: "I never want him to leave me. I long to date him, to one day marry him. He is the love of my life, and I hope he feels the same when I finally reveal my true feelings to him."
Just then, Thomas approached the phonograph to stop he stoped the music he glanced at the clock. "It's 10:30; I really should get going since it's quite dark outside," he said. Fuschia, with a playful giggle, replied, "You can stay here for the night. I don't mind having company, especially when it's someone as handsome as you." She yawned, adding, "Let's head to my room; I'm quite tired of myself."
"Alright, let's go upstairs," Fuschia suggested, leading Thomas to her room. As they entered, she flicked on the lamp, and Thomas couldn't help but express his awe at the size of her room. "Your room is so big!" he exclaimed. "Yes, it is," Fuschia agreed, "but we can talk about it in the morning." With that, they settled into bed. "Goodnight, Fuschia," Thomas whispered. "Goodnight, Thomas," she responded, turning off the lamp. As darkness enveloped the room, Thomas murmured, "Goodnight, my love," before drifting swiftly into sleep.
To be continued...
Note: Yes I know what some of you think,if Thomas (White Stranger) and Fuschia O'Hara are married in this time period,wouldn't that make Kimberly Hart and Tommy Oliver related in the future? The answer to your question is I don't know. I guess the answer is however you want it to be.
