somewhere || George Russell

twenty-two

Laurel rolled her eyes. Business is Iray's life and she's good at it. That's why she studied Entrepreneurship. Someday maybe she will even be part of the Miramar & Costa board along with her dad and Rafael.

"I'm going to stop you right there, Miss Entrepreneur," Laurel chuckled.

"No, wait" George smiled. He wants to know more about Laurel's sister/best friend. "What did you study, Iray?"

"Business, Entrepreneurship & Organizations at Brown University," she showed off. "Laurel is the weird one of the family, actually." Laurel rolled her eyes again. "Rafael studied economy at Princeton and Emilio Law at Harvard."

"So, you are all super smart?" George smiled.

"Kind of," Iray slightly nodded.

She and Laurel chuckled a little, remembering that Emilio was waitlisted in Harvard and their dad had to pay for his admission. That is why nobody really takes him seriously, besides the fact that he just looks and talks like a kid, even when he needs to bee professional. He should learn from Iray, who knows exactly how to behave in every kind of situation. Alas, the fact that they are triplets doesn't mean they are the same.

George kept smiling and kissed Laurel's head. She frowned. Why is he suddenly super amorous? She already knows that he can be more sensible to feelings that her, but he never got to this point to hug her and kiss her cheek so repeatedly.

"Are you sure you are okay?" Laurel asked him again.

"Of course," he assured. "I am just so thankful that you are here."

Laurel felt that sensation of butterflies in her stomach with his words. He really is?

●●●

Well, he walked up to me and he asked me if I wanted to dance. He looked kinda nice and so I said I might take a chance.     
I didn't know just what to do, so I whispered I love you. He said that he loved me too, and then he kissed me.Then he asked me to be his bride and always be right by his side. I felt so happy I almost cried, and then he kissed me

"Seriously, Iray?" Emilio entered the room, squeezing his eyebrows together and pausing the music in his sister's phone. "That song is as old as Methuselah."

Iray rolled her eyes and played the song again from the beginning. She continued searching in their hotel closet for some clothes.

"I'm sure Methuselah is way older," Laurel looked up at him and took a sip of a bottle of more golden water.

"It was a joke," he clarified.

Laurel shrugged and looked down again to the book she was reading. "You do bad jokes."

Emilio walked towards Laurel and took a seat on the same couch where she was.

"I can't believe you can't finish that book," he said when realized she is still reading Becoming by Michelle Obama.

Laurel closed the book and looked at him again. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Not really, mum, dad and Rafael aren't back yet from their meeting with important people, apparently a meeting that I cannot attend to," he said with outrage. But well, deep inside he knows that he is still a child in essence, and that's why he can't attend to that meeting. "How can you read with Iray listening to her old music?"

"It doesn't bother me," Laurel shook her head. "I also listen to old music. West Side Story was written in 1957."

"I'm not saying it's lame to listen old music, I meant how do you manage to read with the noise."

"I told you it doesn't bother me," she repeated.

"Found the one," Iray left the closet and walked towards her siblings, hiding something in her back.

"I don't understand," Laurel frowned. "What were you looking for?"

"Your perfect outfit for tomorrow," Iray cheerfully said and showed a green playsuit. A very, very short green playsuitthat also had a huge V-neckline.

"No," Laurel shook her head. "The dress code in the Emirates is no showing legs or shoulders."

"Then why you packed it?" Emilio asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't have an answer for that," Laurel said, blushing.

"That dress code just applies for temples," Iray insisted.

"They are called mosques," Laurel corrected her sister.

"Whatever, come on, it's cute," she insisted.

"I don't have shoes to combine with it."

"That's bullcrap, I'm sure Iray already found a pair of shoes," Emilio teased.

"No, I won't wear that," she shook her head again. "I don't know why I packed it, it's not appropriate."

Iray spent the next ten minutes trying to convince her, but Laurel was still reluctant. The three of them went back to the closet and started to look for a brand-new look. Emilio's ideas were awful, Iray's ideas were considered inappropriate and Laurel didn't want to overthink about it, but suddenly she started to worry so much about what to wear.

Laurel groaned and dropped her body on the bed. "What's the point anyway? I wasn't caring about it until you started to do."

"You have to look cute, not to just dress with the first thing you find," Iray took a seat next to her.

Emilio gave Iray an unfriendly look. He shook his head and sat on the bed with his sisters. "Come on, Laurel, it's fine. If George likes you, no matter what you wear, he's going to have a smile on his face as soon as he sees you."

Laurel sighed and nodded. She sat on the bed and hugged Emilio.

Their three hurried years of university life was always like this: just the two of them in Boston. Emilio at Harvard, and Laurel at MIT, supporting each other. Being each other's shoulders to cry on. Mostly because they were under pressure with school assignments, or they just wanted to complain about life.

"How about we continue listening to old songs," Emilio stood up and unlocked Iray's cellphone, looking for the playlist of Laurel's favorite movie and musical on Spotify and playing the first song.

Laurel raised an eyebrow. "Honey, honey, how he thrills me, a-ha, honey, honey."

Mamma Mia never fails.