❝ victorious? I don't need a title if I have you. ❞
VIC • TO • RIOUS
ADJECTIVE : The feeling of being a successful winner
EXAMPLE : He was victorious when he found her.
He would usually let out his sweet victorious smile when he the victory comes a...
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❝ I'm used to it, Kenny. ❞ — Morgan
October 14 The Smiths' House Thanksgiving Day
IT HAD BEEN AN HOUR— maybe half of it but it felt like forever, yet she never complained. She entered the house with her eyes bloodshot red, an apologetic smile was given to Kenny Omega's family as they had welcomed her with the look of sympathy on written their faces and wide grins. The only thing that gave her joy was the welcoming atmosphere of his home.
She also felt like she's the girlfriend. A part of her wished that she is.
"Sweetheart," Kenny's mom, who introduced herself as Trudy, called her from the dining room as Morgan looked up. Trudy asked her, "have you eaten your thanksgiving dinner?"
"I didn't have an appetite to eat earlier," Morgan told her but then she waved her hand dismissively, not wanting to be a bother, "I'll be fine, though. Thank you for asking, Mrs. Omeg— Smith, shoot I'm sorry for calling you Mrs. Omega. I'm used to calling your son Kenny." She was bluffing and Trudy chuckled before shaking her head.
"Nonsense sweetheart," Trudy spoke, "call me Trudy instead— come, let's eat before the food gets cold. I don't want a pretty girl starving, definitely not on my watch."
"That explains why Kenny's— Tyson's sister is healthy," Morgan replied while standing up, leaving her bag at the couch and followed Trudy at the dining room. She wasn't used to calling him by his real name, it was always Kenny or Omega. It was weird for her, she thought that she should stick with the stage name instead.
Five minutes in, the Smith family were having a pleasant conversation. Morgan, on the other hand, sat there eating her mashed potato and turkey. She didn't mind, really. She would rather have a quiet dinner — or get ignored — than receive a single negative comment from her stepsister. She didn't want to think about her at Thanksgiving but if she could only give a toast with profanity, she would thank Kenny from taking her away from "that bitch".
Forgetting the whole Cananae situation she went back to reality as Trudy asked her, "Morgan, where do you work?"
Morgan swallowed her food and answered, "I work for New Japan like your son but I work backstage."
"That's nice," Kenny's father replied, "do you stay at a hotel?"
"Uh— I don't actually," she responded with a sheepish smile, "I have a studio apartment at Tokyo. It's quite small but it's enough for me, rather than going back and forth from Canada to Japan. It's tiring."
"Smart choice," Trudy grinned, "where did you come from by the way, Morgan?"
"Ottawa," the Ontarian responded shortly, "I moved in Manitoba with my dad when I turned fourteen and I started to work at New Japan when I got my master's degree. It was a good choice, really."
