Welcome to the second chapter of 'Details'.
Thank you all for your kind welcome and your amazing support!
Many hugs,
0Restart
Chapter 2: You're no Cinderella!
Sang P.O.V.
"Your mother is cooking." Cooking?
"She never cooks," I said, looking at my father in shock. "Why would she be cooking?"
"She was hungry and got tired of waiting for you. Before I left to pick you up, I think I saw her take out the spaghetti." I cringed at the few memories I had of her cooking. I'd be happy if she hadn't burned down the house by the time we returned.
"I'm not very hungry," I said before I could stop myself and looked at him from the corner of my eye. The last thing I needed was for my father to think me disrespectful and tell my mother. The wry grin on his face and the raise of his shoulders made me nervous. I wasn't used to my father being so expressive.
"Same here." Oh. I breathed out in relief. Crisis averted.
My father was usually a much quieter man. He preferred to keep a distance from the anger at home, and often hid away at work. Ever since I had started working as a maid, however, and he took me to and from work, he had been acting strangely.
His hands were twisting around the steering wheel of the car. He stared ahead and I could see the muscles in his jaw tensing. He looked like he wanted to say more, but I was still too unsure about the new twist to his personality to encourage him. The silence continued as he pulled up to our driveway on Sunnyvale Court. I hurried out of the car, eager to leave the tense quiet.
I entered the house and cringed at the smell of burnt food. I hoped that there hadn't been an actual fire. I wasn't even sure if the fire alarm worked...
We'd only lived in the grey house for a few weeks, so it was still strange to think of it as 'home'. I had unpacked the boxes and had basically finished setting everything in place a little over a week ago, but a few of the details still had to be checked or corrected. The kitchen had given me the most work, but I was very satisfied with how I'd organized it all. Thinking of the kitchen brought back my worry over my mother's cooking adventure. I was terrified of having to start organizing the kitchen all over again.
Reaching the scene of the crime, I let out a pained sigh. How can one woman make such a mess? There were broken spaghetti pieces strewn all over the off-white tiles and a small stream was still dripping from the tap. The stove was completely drenched and it looked like she had tried to blow up a small animal in the microwave. I could only assume that she had overheated a red sauce, as I refused to think of any alternative. Knives, forks and spoons were scattered over the counters. My mother, of course, was nowhere to be found.
I resignedly started the long cleaning process. I was on my knees, scrubbing the floor clean of more rogue sauce, when my father entered the kitchen. I sat up and wiped my forehead. He sent me a look that I had trouble interpreting. I waited for him to tell me what was so obviously weighing on his mind, but he only stared at me.
Too tired to bother with trying to figure him out, and having been socially exhausted from meeting Victor earlier today, I gave up and continued scrubbing.
"How are you liking your new job?" he finally asked. I shrugged and stood up, going over to the sink to clean out the dirty towel. What had happened that made him so curious about me after all these years of silence?
"It's fine. I haven't been out much before, so it's all a bit new." He knew how confined I'd been to the house. It shouldn't come as a surprise and judging by the guilty averting of his eyes, it hadn't.
"Right," he said, and cleared his throat. He turned his eyes back to me and studied me as I put away the clean cutlery. Something in his eyes gave me an uncomfortable pounding in my chest. "You look nice in your uniform. Very grown up."
I froze. Was that a compliment? It definitely sounded like one. Alarms sounded in my mind as we ventured into yet another uncharted territory.
The uniform itself wasn't anything special. It was just a knee-length dress, mostly black with a white collar and trimmings on the sleeves and waist. It didn't merit such a momentous compliment. I shifted nervously.
"Thank you."
"You're almost sixteen now," my father continued. "You're practically an adult." I turned around and leaned back against the counter. His intent stare made me look down and lift my hand to my lips.
"Not yet. I still have a few years to go."
"You've always been mature, Sang." What was he getting at? Did he want me to contribute more? How? I already got a job and I gave all of my earnings to my parents. Did he want me to move out soon? Oh, no. The thought terrified me.
I'd fantasized about leaving my home, finding freedom, but being faced with the actual possibility made me hold my breath in horror. I couldn't go out there all of a sudden, all alone! For goodness' sake, I'd never even gone to a supermarket before! How was I supposed to take care of myself? I was not nearly functional enough to make it out there on my own!
While I was about to lose my sanity, my father continued to stare at me with a pensive smile on his face.
"W-what do you-" I tried, but a cough stopped me before I could finish the sentence. Both my father and I turned to the doorway. I cringed when I saw the furious expression on my mother's face as she tensely worked her jaw. Her cheeks had turned red and her hands were clenched tightly as they were held up before her hips.
I had no idea what I'd done to deserve her ire, but that was nothing new.
My father ducked his head and quickly exited stage left. Despite his more social behavior, it didn't seem like I could suddenly count on him to save me from his wife.
I braced myself for the inevitable outburst. My expectations did not let me down.
"You ungrateful whore!" she screamed, thrusting her fist to the side. Her voice raised in pitch as she took a few steps towards me. "I don't let you get away with your bullshit, so you try to get your hands on my husband?"
"What?" I blinked at her. Whatever it was that I'd expected to hear, that was not it.
"You think you can flash him your legs and he will save you from what you deserve?" she sneered, taking several more steps towards me. I had a bad feeling about this. Raising my hands in an effort to avoid antagonizing her, I moved left, safely keeping the kitchen island between us.
"N-no! I didn't-"
"Go to your room!" I spun around and made to sprint to the doorway. Her last roar and her wild eyes had shaken me to the core. It felt different than the other times she had been angry with me. She hadn't brought a cane or belt, so her aggression was not my main concern, but her eyes had shown a loss of control. I had the distinct feeling a dam had been breached.
I had nearly reached the doorway when pain erupted in my right shoulder and I fell harshly to the ground. I clenched my teeth to prevent a scream from enraging her further. I looked next to me where a broken toaster lay on the ground. My shoulder ached in protest when I hurried to get up.
"Get out!"
~A~A~A~A~A~A~A~A~A~A~A~A~A~A~
After a rough night and a worse morning, I was dropped off at the Morgan home by my father. He didn't seem to notice my stiff movements and I assumed he was happy to pretend last night hadn't happened. His behavior was back to the way it used to be, and a part of me sighed in relief.
My shoulder had looked dark and splotchy when I checked it in the morning, but the ache wasn't too bad. Other than preventing me from running or jumping, I didn't think it would inhibit me too much at work.
"Mrs. Morgan needs the wine cellar reorganized and cleaned for the society dinner we're hosting next week. However, Muriel, the young Mr. Morgan will have a guest over today," Mrs. Cortez said, snapping me out of my daydreams. Having already dismissed the rest of the staff, Mrs. Cortez had been addressing Muriel.
Muriel was the go-to person for anything Victor-related, of course. Before meeting him I had been glad to let her have that responsibility. Now however... I couldn't help but envy her a little. Victor Morgan was the only kind person I'd had the pleasure of meeting at work so far, and it hurt to know that she wouldn't be in his company more often.
"I'll make the preparations for Mr. Morgan and his guest," Muriel confirmed with a satisfied smile. Mrs. Cortez turned to me.
"That leaves you, Sang, to take care of the cellar."
"Yes, Mrs. Cortez." She sniffed and lifted her chin at me.
"Don't come up until you're done. We can't have you disrupting Mr. Morgan and his guest," she sniffed, narrowing her eyes at me. I nodded and felt myself growing smaller under her scrutiny. It seemed to be enough, as she dismissed us and returned to the kitchen. Muriel was chuckling quietly behind me. I turned around to face her and saw the cruel smile on her face.
"Good luck," she said sarcastically, giggling and practically skipping away. I had a feeling I wasn't going to like my chores today. I sighed as I went to do my chore.
The wine cellar was a mess. Dust covered nearly every surface, except for the numerous boxes that were stacked perilously against walls and on chairs and tables. The racks that were supposed to hold the bottles were virtually empty.
I sneezed as my dress swiped against a rack and dust was released into the air.
The desolate state of the room surprised me. The Morgan home was usually pristine and I had not expected the cellar to be an exception. It looked like Mr. and Mrs. Morgan had forgotten about the room until they realized they were hosting for wine connoisseurs soon. The expensive wine purchases were too recent for this to have been a building problem.
I looked around the room once more and leaned resignedly against a table.
Time to get to work.
~A~A~A~A~A~A~A~A~A~A~A~A~A~A~
By the time I had finally finished fixing the mess in the wine cellar, I must have been in there for hours. Between clearing the dust and sorting the bottles, I didn't have time for a break. My shoulder was aching from all the lifting and twisting, but I managed to take my mind off the pain.
I felt a sense of accomplishment as I moved up the stairs and out the door into the hallway. A deep, relieved breath escaped me. After I had my fill of clean air, I closed the door and locked it.
As I was turning around the corner into the entrance hall to report back to Mrs. Cortez, it briefly registered that there were voices coming from up ahead. I didn't react in time.
"I'm fucking telling you, Vic, they're up to- oomph!"
Ouch. There wasn't supposed to be a wall there. The floor was hard as my back hit it.
"Oy! What the-"
"Sang? Are you okay?" I opened my eyes and looked up into the concerned eyes of Victor Morgan. Just my luck. Of all the people to witness my embarrassment... Movement from next to him made me realize that I had run into his guest. Oh.
I looked up into the most gorgeous crystal blue eyes that were narrowed under lowered brows. If I had to guess, this stranger looked to be around my age. His brown hair was pulled back into a short ponytail but two dyed blond strands still framed his face. Orange studs glittered in both his ears. When he tilted his head, I could see the three black rings that decorated the helix of his left ear. I frowned when I saw them, they seemed out of place.
He was immaculately styled in clothes that I could never imagine anyone else pulling off. His green washed jeans were complemented by off-white sneakers and a thin beige sweater with a subtle navy sheen. His clothes were perfectly arranged, but still looked casual and fun. His style was obviously a bit rebellious and the glint in his eyes spoke of a spontaneous and happy personality. The control exerted over his appearance despite this was very telling.
"Sang?" Victor repeated, probably wondering why I was so rudely staring at his handsome guest.
"Y-yes! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to..." I started, but then I saw what I'd done to his expensive looking clothes. "Oh no! The dust!"
The stranger snorted and his eyes widened as he gave me an once-over. "Oh, for fuck's sake. You're a mess!"
Suddenly remembering that I must look terrible, covered in dust and still splayed out on the floor, I lifted my hand to my lips.
"I-I'm sorry," I stammered out, trying desperately to pat some of the dust off the hem of my dress.
"Don't listen to him, Sang. Here," Victor said after throwing his guest a glare, and held his hand out to help me up. I hesitated, definitely not as comfortable as he was with touching another person, but decided that it would probably be rude to refuse.
It wasn't that I really wanted to refuse, not at all, but the memory of his touch the day before still had an interesting effect on me and I wasn't sure what I'd do if I got another dose of physical contact. I couldn't understand how people could casually touch each other like that without constantly turning into quivering messes.
Or perhaps they didn't have the same reaction as I did? I honestly didn't have enough experience to know.
I took his hand and he smoothly helped me up, using his other hand on my elbow to steady me. Once he was sure I wouldn't fall over again, he squeezed my harm gently and let me go.
"Are you sure..." I muttered, looking down and feeling terrible about the state of the guest's clothes.
I looked up at Mr. Stranger and noted that he was looking at me again. He seemed to see something he hadn't noticed before as his eyes had widened in surprise. He shook his head quickly.
"Nah, I'm fine, you're fine. He's right. Don't listen to me, I'm an ass sometimes," he said, seeming to stumble over his words. How did someone respond to that? I was at a loss and decided to just risk a smile. Both guys gasped and I quickly straightened out my lips again. Had that been the wrong response?
I looked from Victor to his guest, confused, but the stranger just smiled back and shook his head in dismissal.
"I'm Gabriel," he said. I noticed that his voice was even deeper than Victor's—a smooth baritone. I smiled again at the rushed hand he extended and shook it carefully.
"Hi, Gabriel, I'm Sang." His smile grew into a grin. I forced myself to let go of his hand. Even though the contact had been warm and comforting, I did not want a repeat of yesterday's events.
"Well hello, Sang," he drawled and shot Victor a sideways look. "Why is this the first time I'm meeting you?" Victor pursed his lips and made it a point to narrow his eyes at Gabriel.
"She just started working here, Gabe." It sounded defensive. Was I supposed to have been introduced to Gabriel already? I'd only just met Victor the day before, and I wasn't sure how many more of these introductions I could handle.
"And you wanted to keep her your little secret, didn't you?" Gabriel accused with a smirk on his face. Victor huffed exasperatedly and shook his head.
"I did not. There was just no reason-"
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Vic. That," he pointed at me, "is fucking reason enough." I was surprised at his language, but couldn't help but think that the cussing suited his style. What I wasn't so sure about, however, was what my role in that sentence had been.
I was quickly giving up hope of ever understanding social interactions.
"Sang! What are you doing?" I jumped at the shrill voice. Muriel's voice changed when she seemed to have analyzed the situation. "Oh, Mr. Morgan, Mr. Coleman. I apologize if she inconvenienced you. She's new and apparently still has much to learn." Gabriel looked over my shoulder and shrugged.
"I bumped into her. Wasn't her fault," he said dismissively.
I could almost feel the anger coming off her in waves as she stood behind me. I didn't dare turn around. Call me a coward, but if Muriel thought I had inconvenienced Victor she'd gladly skin me alive. My shoulder hurt enough from the hard work and the fall; I didn't need to risk further injury.
"Nothing happened, Muriel. We just didn't pay attention as we turned the corner," Victor chimed in, then turned to me. "I hope you're really okay, Sang?" My heart warmed at his concern. I still couldn't believe people like him really existed.
"I'm fine, really. Thank you."
"If you're sure..." Victor looked doubtful, but dropped it when I nodded at him and smiled. Gabriel nudged him out of the way and bent forward to bring his face closer to mine. I was worried he could feel the heat rising from my cheeks at his proximity.
"It was so nice to finally meet you, Sang. I'll be staying over a lot, so I'll see you soon," he stated confidently and winked at me. The hand at my lower lip trembled. Victor raised his eyebrows and pressed his lips together in annoyance.
"You are?" he asked, sounding pained. Gabriel turned and smirked at him.
"Fuck yeah. Not a damn thing you can do about it, either." I couldn't help but smile at their easy camaraderie. Even though Victor did not look ecstatic at the turn of events, I could see a smile tugging at his lips. They looked really close.
A sharp cough coming from the angry maid behind me had me straighten my spine. It was probably a good idea to move away from this situation.
"Goodbye, Victor. Bye, Gabriel. It was nice to meet you too," I said, giving them a small wave and turning around to walk past a fuming Muriel.
"Bye, Sang!" Gabriel and Victor both called after us as we took the steps down to the hallway that led to the kitchen. The moment we were out of their sight and hearing, Muriel broke her silence.
"Just who do you think you are?" she hissed and stepped up to me. "You look like you rolled around in the dust and dirt and you think it's a good idea to go jump Mr. Morgan's friend?"
"I didn't do it on purpose. We bumped into each other by accident," I told her, raising my hand to press my lower lip against my teeth. Regardless of what I said in my defense, I couldn't help but still feel guilty about running into Gabriel and covering him in dust. It must have been noticeable in my voice, for Muriel didn't believe me for a second.
"Ha! I'm sure you did." She threw her hands in the air, turned and paced back and forth in front of me. After a few seconds of only the sound of her angry breathing and short steps filling the hallway to the kitchen, she let out a bitter laugh. "You think you're in some sort of fairytale? The poor dirty maid catches the eye of the young master and his guest? Get a hold of yourself, Sang! You're no Cinderella!"
I winced. I knew she was right, this wasn't a fairytale. Of course it wasn't. But meeting genuinely nice people like Victor and Gabriel was dream-like enough for me to forget about the reality of my situation.
She was right, I had to stop living in a fantasy. Because even if this was a fairytale, there was no way that I could be the princess.