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Mon Dec 21, 2015 1:32 pm
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amberari says...



Ivy | Day 1 | The Party


To say that Ivy was amused by what had just happened would be an understatement.

“So, Virginia beach …” she said, tilting her head at him with a small smile. “I’m surprised by …” she paused, choosing her words carefully in case anyone overheard them, “… how much you remembered.”

“It was a special day.” He shrugged nonchalantly though the blush in his cheeks was still visible.

“It was a special day,” she agreed, playing along. “What uh … what made you bring it up in the first place?”

“Hutch asked.”

“I see.”

Ivy would be lying if she said that she wasn’t impressed by the level of detail he’d managed to convey for someone who’d been put on the spot like that. People had been staring at him the entire time, yet he still somehow managed to get through it with ease.

“Excuse me.”

A guy, with ash brown skin and an attractive face, attempted to squeeze through them holding two champagne flutes in his hands.

Ivy and Holden both moved to the side to let him pass, and it was only then that she realised Holden still had his arm around her.

“You can let go of me now,” she told him, but Holden wasn’t listening. He was staring at something or someone, a slight frown creasing his forehead.

“What is it?” she asked him.

“Girl with the red hair,” he muttered quietly into her ear. “Your 3 o’clock.”

Ivy threw a quick glance directly to her right and spotted the girl in question standing at the far end of the room.

“What about her?” she asked.

“She’s been staring at me ever since we got here.”

“Maybe she thinks you’re cute,” answered Ivy in amusement, “in a dorky kind of way.” But Holden looked far from amused. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” she told him, before her eyes glanced around the room for where the drinks were being served. “I’m going to get some champagne. Try not to get into anymore awkward situations.”

With that she left Holden to mingle with some of the guests. Gathering, the skirt of her dress she headed towards the open bar, until she was stopped by Janet, Hutch’s wife. Standing beside her was a girl with dark locks and even darker eyes.

“Ivory, why don’t you join us?” Janet smiled invitingly, passing Ivy a spare champagne flute she’d been holding. “We were just discussing our Honeymoons and how we wish we could go back.” She tipped her head back to laugh. “Briana, here, was telling me about her trip to the Maldives.”

The girl smiled showing pearly white teeth. “We stayed in the Velassaru resort.”

Janet’s eyes widened. “What a coincidence. Hutch and I stayed in the same resort for our wedding anniversary. The restaurants there were just fabulous. Which one was your favourite?”

If Ivy didn’t know any better, the girl before her suddenly looked a little nervous. But she recovered well. “We preferred the private dining experience.” She took a few of the hor d’oeuvres from one of the passing waiters in an attempt to avoid any further questions on the matter.

So the hostess decided to turn her attention to Ivy.

“Where did you go for your Honeymoon?”

Ivy swallowed, throwing a slight glance at Holden suddenly wishing he was here with her. Unfortunately, he had his back to her and appeared to be in polite conversation with a male guest. The irony, she thought inwardly. She had told him not to get himself into anymore awkward situations and here she was in one herself.

“We went to Thailand,” she answered finally. Ivy had spent her summer there a few years back and so she felt confident enough to be able to discuss it without the risk of getting caught out.

“Aren’t you lucky?” smiled Janet. “Thailand is a beautiful place. Unfortunately I’ve never been. They must have some amazing Honeymoon resorts.”

And then it occurred to her. Ivy may have spent a summer there, but she sure as hell didn’t stay in one of the Honeymoon resorts. Instead she’d spent it in an average four star hotel in the middle of the city which she had shared with four of her close friends.

“Yes, the resorts are pretty amazing,” she agreed nonetheless, taking a sip of champagne. She needed as much liquid courage as she could get to get herself out of this hole.

“Which resort did you stay at?” asked Janet. “I was thinking of surprising my husband with a vacation there.”

Great. Ivy met Janet’s enquiring gaze and had the distinct feeling that she was being tested. If that were the case, she was in serious danger of failing.

“It was a water resort,” Ivy answered, feigning confidence. She wondered how Holden had managed to do it, to lie so easily under this kind of pressure and still make it sound so damn believable.

Janet raised a perfectly plucked brow. “Aren’t most of the resorts in Thailand water resorts?”

“Well, yes,” Ivy smiled to hide her growing nerves. “I meant to say that we stayed in an island.”

“What was it called?”

“The Naka Island.”

Ivy had to bite her lip in order to contain the sigh of relief she felt upon hearing Holden’s voice.

If Janet had seemed surprised by Holden’s sudden appearance and interruption, she hid it well. “I’ve heard about that place,” she nodded. “Were there any activities available?”

Holden shook his head. “Not much aside from kayaking, but we didn’t mind. We spent most of the Honeymoon in our hotel, isn’t that right?”

He shot her a cheeky smirk which led to an amused chuckle from Janet. Ivy, on the other hand, had to hide her frown. It wasn’t the insinuation behind Holden’s statement that irked her, it was the fact that she had needed him to save her in the first place. Ivy didn’t like it, depending on someone, especially a man. It made her feel weak, and she hated feeling weak.

She really needed to iron out her and Holden’s story, particularly their past. She needed to know anything and everything about their lives down to the last minute detail. It was the only way she could get through this because failure was not an option.





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Mon Dec 21, 2015 9:57 pm
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TinyJarStoredDreams says...



Dixon | Day 1 | House/The Party



I laid across the couch as Haven was upstairs finding something to wear to our dinner party. I kept flipping through the pages of the folder making sure I didn't miss any crucial information that could possible put me in any danger of getting caught in a lie of a life.

"Hey Dix, come upstairs and tell me how this looks." Haven shouted from the master bedroom.

I dragged myself off the couch and upstairs to find her standing in front of the mirror. Beautiful. The dress she picked fit tight around her curved body and the dark forest green made her glow in contrast. Her hair waved down her back from the tight braids and her eyes glowed with confidence.

"You look," I said lost or words, "amazing."

"Yeah, I know," She said with a small sigh and a smile. "Here I laid this out for you."

She gestured to the bed which had a pair of khakis, a grey button up, and a green tie that matched her dress. I looked up at her expecting he to leave so I could change in privacy but she just sat down on the bed and started brushing her fingers through her hair.

"What?" She asked noticing me staring, "Oh come on, we're living together you won't be able to hide from me forever."

Well she isn't wrong. I sighed and pulled my shirt over my head and started buttoning up the new grey one.

"So, how's finding a job going." Haven asked eyeing me as if trying to keep me in line.

"Well, finding work as Scientist isn't easy in this day and age." I replied slipping off my jeans and vans.

"That's true, being a full time marathon runner isn't either." Haven replied picking at her finger nails.

I finished buttoning up my shirt and tying my tie and stood in the mirror looking at myself as I slipped on some dress shoes. Haven came over and stood next to me. We didn't look half bad. She looked me over and nodded in approval before grabbing her clutch and leading me downstairs.

"Ready?" She asked as we reached the bottom stair.

"Ready." I said grabbing the brownies and heading for the door with Haven on my arm.
How the hell are we suppose to look forward to the future if we aren't sure if we will be alive in the next 20 seconds?





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Tue Dec 22, 2015 11:23 pm
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Sevro says...



Haven | Day 1 | The Dinner Party



After I helped Dixon, I had whispered to him that I needed to go get ready, which was true. It was 4:30, and I'm not that much of a tomboy. I need that solid half hour to get my style on. I searched though the dresses that Hutch or one of his cronies—I'm sure he had them, what powerful man doesn't?—had put in there. As if we wouldn't come with our own clothes. None of the dresses did it for me. There were a few that I tried on, but they all had that one-size-fits-all kind of feel to them.

After careful deliberation, I chose one of the ones I had brought, a deep green dress. It came to mid-thigh, and it was just a hair shorter than formal. Oh well, sue me. As I let my hair down from the tight braids it had been cooped up in all day, Dixon came it. I had called to him for a second opinion on my dress.

He entered cautiously, which told me he was respectful. I looked at him, and asked him again if he thought it would work for the dinner party.

"You look...amazing," he said slowly, staring at my dress. He stared, not in a creepy way, but in a shy, quiet way. God, why was I reading into this? I snapped out of it and smiled.

"Yeah," I said, deciding that I liked this dress. "I know." I didn't mean to come across as snobby, so I smirked. That seemed to be my go-to reaction lately. I'm not sure if I like it. I pointed vaguely to the bed, where I had set out something for him. I know he probably didn't need my input in his wardrobe selection, but I kind of wanted us to match. "Here, I laid this out for you."

He looked it over. I was relieved when he didn't seem repulsed by the gray shirt, green tie, and dark khakis. He picked it up, and hesitated, looking at me.

"What," I said. I realized as I said it that he wanted—expected—me to leave, to give him some privacy, but I decided to take a bold step, hopefully in the direction that won't blow this for us. "Oh, come on, we're living together! You won't be able to hide from me forever."

He shrugged reluctantly, and unzipped his hoodie. I pretended to be occupied with my nails, because I was uncomfortable with this, too. It's not every day that I watch a strong, attractive guy get undressed. I shut down this daydrea—thought and took a deep breath.

"So...how's finding a job going," I asked, sneaking a glance in his direction, mainly, of course, to let him know that I wasn't talking to myself. I was surprised again at how quick he caught on.

"Well, finding work as a scientist is easy in this day and age," he said smoothly. Scientist? How was he gonna pull that off? One tricky question that stumps him and his "scientific knowledge", and we're goners! Well, I'll have to talk to him about that one, once we're outside, away from all these cameras. I tried one of my own, picking a safe profession that doesn't require too much outside knowledge, most of which I didn't have.

"That's true. Being a full time marathon runner isn't either," I answered. I can run, there's nothing tricky to know about that. I walked over, and stood next to him and looked at us in the full length mirror. We looked good. He looked sharp, a nice change from the black jeans and hoodie. I almost thought he was going to put on his red vans. With his green tie. But, he must have caught my telepathic glare, because he merely pushed them under the table and slipped on the nice dress shoes that stood at attention next to him. I grabbed my coral-colored clutch and walked out of the room. Dixon followed.

We were walking down the stairs. When we got to the bottom, near the kitchen, I asked if he was ready, and he said he was, grabbing the brownies. He paused for the slightest of seconds before doing so, as if he thought the pan might still be hot. We went out the door, as I struggled to suppress the urge to make a joke about this.

Instead, I took the pan from him, and holding it in one of mine, I took his right hand and turned it palm-up. The burns hardly left marks.

"Does it hurt," I asked, looking up at him, the annoying part of my brain noticing how close his chin was to my nose.

"It's not that bad anymore." He spoke quietly, tilting his head down to look me in the eye.

"Well, good," I said lightly. "Hopefully nobody notices at the party." I kept the brownies and let go of his hand. We kept walking until Dixon touched my shoulder, stopping me.

"This is it," he said, pointing to the quaint little house to our left. It was just as quaint, of course, as our house, and all the other houses. I readied myself, pulling my shoulders up to their full height as we walked up the little sidewalk. As he knocked on the door, I plastered a smile on my face and watched Dixon do the same. I rested my hand in the crook of his elbow, and the door opened. It was Hutch's wife...Jenny...Jane...Janet! That was it. She smiled, the same smile as Hutch, the one that stopped right below her nose.

"Hi there," she said, overly excited, I thought. "I'm so glad you two could make it! Come in, come in! Ooooh, are those for me," she drawled, looking and pointing at the brownies.

"Yup, they sure are," I said, as happily as I could. She gently took them from me, and beckoned us inside. I gave Dixon a look, one that said there's no turning back now. He returned it with a small, reassuring smile. I gathered my shards of confidence and walked inside, not daring to let go of his hand.

There were lots of couples already there, and I saw Hutch to the left, chatting it up with a dark haired guy, who was red in the face, but talking all the same. His situation started to make me nervous. What if we slipped up? What if I started stammering and babbling, and making no sense? What if Dixon gets hurt because of me? I snapped out of my thoughts, because someone was talking to me. Janet.

"Are you alright, Haven? You look a little dizzy," she said, looking at me with feigned concern.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine," I say, recovering from my nerves. "I was just noticing your...couch pillows! I like the color," I say, trying to talk smoothly. Confidence, Haven. Confidence. You know exactly what you're doing. You belong here.

She smiles. "Oh, thank you. Hutch and I got them as a wedding gift," she says, and the second she says "wedding", my stomach lurches, and Dixon's hold on my hand tightens slightly, as if he got as nervous as me at the thought of talking about our wedding. The one we didn't actually have. "Tell me something you got, any decorations?"

I froze. The one time my brain forgot how to lie.

"Uh...we got a pitcher," Dixon said, saving the day. A true superhero. "From my aunt and uncle. There's a tradition in my family, everyone used to keep their milk in these silver pitchers. They don't do it so much anymore, but they gave us one, as a symbol," Dixon spoke with a smile. He looked down most of the time when he talked, but right then, he was looking anywhere except the floor. He actually looked Janet in the eye a few times. It made me wonder if he was telling truth about his family tradition. It made me wish that I had a true, happy family story like that, one that didn't end on an awkward sad-note.

"How sweet," Janet said, obviously not thinking it was sweet at all. "Where was your wedding," she asked, probably hoping that it would trip us up, but Dixon had given me confidence. I lowered my chin, but kept my smiling eyes on her, the corners of my mouth turning up into more of a smirk.

"The Caribbean Islands, right on the beach at sunset. It was picture-perfect, right babe?" Dixon smiled at me, following my lead.

"We could've gotten married next to a dumpster in an alleyway, but as long as I was looking at you, it still would've been picture-perfect," he said, so smoothly, that it took me to a place where we were married. I could see the ocean, and the beach, and the sunset, blocked only by the silhouettes of two people, locked in an embrace that they never wanted to end.


Spoiler! :
Sorry if it's a little long. @TinyJarStoredDreams, I hope this works for you!
"They think I'm still a child. The fools. Alexander was a child when he ruined his first nation."
—Darrow from the Red Rising trilogy by Pierce Brown<3


Spoiler! :
Formerly olsene and Caterpickle








Who wants to become a writer? And why? Because it’s the answer to everything. It’s the streaming reason for living. To note, to pin down, to build up, to create, to be astonished at nothing, to cherish the oddities, to let nothing go down the drain, to make something, to make a great flower out of life, even if it’s a cactus.
— Enid Bagnold