"My tongue is numb," complained Dakota as he held his waffle cone away from his face. After leaving the bakery, Kota dragged me to the nearest gelato shop and ordered an extra large cone with six scoops of different flavors. After licking away at the monstrosity for a good seven minutes, he seemed to have realized the mistake he made.
"Damn that sucks." I monotonously said to him, as I looked at the dripping mess on his hands. I had decided to get one scoop of chocolate gelato in a cup, and had finished it a good three minutes ago.
"Thanks for the empathy."
"You're welcome. Besides, you chose to get all that gelato so now you have to pay the consequences."
"I didn't realize how full I was!"
"Your fault," I shrugged at him. "Hey, the hotel is like right there. You can clean yourself up the- Hey! Watch out! These are Alexander McQueen!" I screeched, pushing Dakotas hand away. He had moved his dripping cone towards me, and I narrowly missed getting strawberry gelato on my sneakers.
"Whoops." He not so innocently said, going back to eating his cone. I cautiously took a few small steps away, trying to get to the hotel faster. Right as we were about to round the corner to enter the hotel, a blaring song began to play interrupting the previous silence. What sounded like the Italian National Anthem, and it was coming from Kota.
"Oh shit, that's Luca calling. Can you get my phone from my pocket? My hands are sticky."
I went to get his phone from his back pocket when he screeched, "Woah woah! Don't try and cope a feel! It's in my hoodie pocket!"
Rolling my eyes, I went and pulled out his blaring phone from his pocket. I answered the call, and put the phone on speaker. "Hello?"
"Hey, Blake?" Luca's crackly voice sounded.
"And me!" Dakota loudly stated, before taking a huge bite of his cone.
"Awesome. I wanted to tell you something."
"What ish ith? Ah cold, cold." Dakota complained with a mouth full of gelato.
"You enjoying that gelato cone Kota?"
"Yeah I am it's pretty goo- wait a minute. How do you know I'm having a cone and not a bowl?"
"Because," Luca simply stated, "I can see you."
I immediately began looking around the area. Street lamps illuminated the sidewalk, but no six foot boy stood out.
"Where are you Brooklyn Boy?" Kota demanded, looking around also. All of a sudden, the phone disconnected. I confusedly looked at the phone until I heard a voice yell.
"How many times do I have to tell you? It's Manhattan!"
We immediately looked up, to see the one and only Luca Kingsley standing on one of the hotel balconies. Excitedly, I grinned at him. "How did you get up there?"
"I'm allowed to be anywhere! Did you forget? This hotel is part of the Kingsley army!" Luca spread his arms out.
"Oh shit, yeah! How did I forget?" I yelled back at him.
"Hey!" Dakota yelled, "Do you want the rest of my-"
"Sta 'zitto! Sto cercando di dormire! Bambini stupidi." An old man had appeared on a neighboring balcony, shaking his fist at us.
Luca laughed slightly, "Mi dispiace, resteremo in silenzio. Buonanotte Signore." He smoothly replied back, shooting the old man a dazzling smile. The old man just humphed, and made his way back into his room. Considering how a bunch of trashy magazines labelled Luca as a 'bad boy' I had yet to see him act bad.
"Come up!" He once again yelled, before breaking out into laughter when the same old man had yelled a grumpy "Non più!"
Dakota tossed the scarce remnants of his cone, and we both ran into the lobby. After the concierge shot us a sharp glare, we began to speed walk. The elevator dinged, and opened to reveal Luca in the flesh. After a series of hugs and handshakes, we made our way to our floor.
As we walked through the hall, a wave of exhaustion hit me. Glancing at the two energetic boys, I decided I wouldn't be able to keep up with them. "Hey, I'm gonna call it a night. I'll see you two tomorrow!" I shot them a smile, after bidding them a few goodbye hugs.
After washing my face, brushing my teeth, and changing, I immediately fell asleep as soon as my head hit the soft pillows.
Waking up the next day was a huge ordeal. I would slowly wake up, then end up falling asleep, then wake up again. This pattern seemed to have cycled at least five times, and by the time I had actually fully woken up, I practically jumped out of bed.
You see, I was never good with jet lag. From traveling to France with my mom, Scotland with my father, and South Korea with my older sister, I always would fall asleep and not be able to wake up and end up wasting almost a whole day.
Before we go back to reality, I do have an older sister. Margot Louise Graham is one badass who actually had the guts to tell our father to fuck off. She was six when I was born, making her currently twenty two. After leaving our happy little family, she moved to Baltimore with her current boyfriend who she's been with for almost three years. It was sickeningly cute.
After checking the bedside table and double taking at the numbers that flashed back at me, I immediately started getting ready. It seemed like a new habit of mine, 'Blakely Graham the ever late socialite'.
I had done my whole morning routine, albeit wasting a little time by dancing in front of the bathroom mirror while brushing my teeth, but I was finally ready. Speed walking out of my room to the hall, I immediately bumped into Dakota.
"Blake!" He smiled, checking his watch.
"Hey, are you going for filming?"
He nodded, "Yeah, I should actually get going. I decided to let you sleep in today, but you can come in later if you want."
"Why didn't you tell me last night?"
He furrowed his brows at me like he was confused. "I didn't know about it actually, he got done early so he decided today was good."
"That's weird that it wasn't on schedule..." I trailed off, kind of confused about how the director had a spur of the moment decision to film in the afternoon. "Anyways, you should of told me! I got ready for nothing!"
"Oh... Wait what?" Kota seemed even more confused.
"You know what, never mind. I'm confused on whats going on so let's call it a truce. Anyways you better get going! I'm gonna check out that little cafe, I'll see you later." I shot him a wave, before taking the elevator.
The sidewalks of Venice were a little busy, different people bustling around. I weaved my way through until I arrived to the small cafe next to the hotel. Well not really next to, it was a five minute walk.
Entering the heavenly scented shop, I immediately closed my eyes and took a deep inhale. My seconds of bliss were interrupted when a woman slightly shoved me and muttered something in Italian. Ignoring her, I went and ordered a large black coffee. After paying, I sat down in a secluded corner table made of a deep brown wood, with a large window in front of me.
As I twiddled on my phone waiting for my coffee, a loud screeching sound came from in front of me. Ignoring the sound, I continued to scroll through my Instagram feed until a familiar voice greeted me.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't Blakely Graham." The fucking London accent appeared out of nowhere.
"What the fuck?" I narrowed my eyes at him. It was clearly a trick of the light, sleep deprivation. Rubbing my eyes and looking away, then looking back to check and see, but nope. He was still there. "Why are you here?"
"Why do you think? Luca's clearly here, but I had to finish some business so I took my plane out a day later. Dakota told us to come, and like the good friend I am, I'm here." Was that what Kota was talking about earlier? Holy shit, it was.
"Good friend my ass," I snorted.
"Fuck off," He flipped me off.
"What are you even doing here?"
"Didn't I already tell you?"
"I mean here." I waved my hand.
"Because I wanted coffee, and I didn't want to go to set. Luca's with Kota, and I don't want to see crazy."
I snorted at his sentence, he really wasn't into Sasha.
He pulled the chair back once again, and fell into it. We just sat in silence, going through our phones instead of talking. At least we weren't exactly bickering, just small tiny sprinkles of arguments.
I heard my name being called, and before I got up I heard Clark's name called. He waved me off, and went to get our drinks.
As I analyzed my surroundings, I realized how cute the shop was. It was mainly dark wood, with industrial lights. Not many people were in here, most people opting for to-go. I was intently staring at the pastry case, which had different types of scones and Italian pastries inside. I should go buy one actually.
Just as I was about to reach into my wallet to go and buy something, Clark sat down with two cups of coffee in his hand. He dropped a small paper bag also.
"Anything fun happen while I was gone?"
I shook my head, eyeing the coffees. "Nope, none. Now hand me my drink will you?"
"I think this is your coffee." He handed me my coffee, taking his. Before I took a sip, he spoke once again. "Oh, and here." He pushed the paper bag in my direction.
"What is it?" I asked cautiously.
"A blueberry scone." He said without missing a beat.
"Seriously?" I asked incredulously. And here I thought he was becoming more tolerable.
"No, it's a cranberry scone." He rolled his eyes. "Why would I try poisoning you again? It didn't even work the first time." He smirked at me.
"Idiot." I muttered under my breath before taking a sip of my coffee, to which Clark mirrored my actions.
As I sipped the coffee, my face immediately scrunched up. Pure sugar hit my tastebuds. I literally felt like I was drinking liquid sugar, or I had poured a pack of sugar on my tongue. Looking at Clark, I saw the disgusted twisted up expression on his face also.
"The fuck is this Ellington?"
He stuck his tongue out slightly, trying to get rid of the taste on his tongue. "I think I gave you my drink, and I got yours. Why is it so bitter? That's fucking horrid!"
"At least I'm not going to get diabetes from this cup of shit!" I shot back.
"Shove off Graham!"
"Just give me back my drink." I stuck my hand out, exchanging his drink for mine. Immediately I took a sip of my actual drink, the bitter taste immediately getting rid of the once sugary taste.
"You drink black coffee?" Clark furrowed his brows at me.
"It's actually coffee with just milk. A Café au lait. What are you even drinking?"
"It's a caramel latte, with extra caramel." He muttered slightly, his cheeks turning a bit pink.
"That's adorable." I cooed at him, and instead of his usual scowl, he laughed.
"That's what Dean says, but he's not any better. He gets a mocha with extra extra mocha."
I snorted, remembering Clark's younger brother who is currently in the eighth grade. "Funny, Margot drinks pure black coffee."
"How is she? Still kicking everyone's ass?" He chuckled, recalling my sister and her rough antics.
"For sure. Well, Sammy's ass. He needs it." I smiled, remembering Margot's boyfriend, Sammy Castillo. I loved Sammy to death, from his expensive Adidas to his unruly dark curls. He was perfect for my sister, and he was always supportive. He was like the big brother I never had.
"Ah, the previous Luca." He smiled.
Samuel Augustin Catillo was the previously labelled 'bad boy'. He fit the title better than Luca, due to him being more of a troublemaker who would pull pranks on anyone. Ranging from school teachers, children, and foreign ambassadors.
I remember a particularly nasty prank, in which he released domesticated rats at a ball dedicated to the governor. But as always in the cliche books, Sammy met Margot and soon toned it down. Well, not completely. Last year, Margot emerged from the shower with purple hair. Suffice to say, she didn't talk to him for a week.
"Yeah, Luca the 'bad boy'" I air quoted.
He chuckled softly, "And Nico, the the good guy."
"Kota the playboy."
"Blakely Graham the golden girl. The Queen of Manhattan."
"Clark Ellington the golden boy."
He snorted at that. "I have no idea where they got golden boy from."
"Well I have no idea where they got golden girl from, let alone queen."
"Yeah, aren't queens supposed to be nice and proper?"
"Hey!"
"Is it not true? You're probably as normal as they come, and they labelled you as that."
"The media loves labels," I sipped at my coffee.
"Don't I know it. I don't fit the mold for good boy, but after seeing me with like four girls in the span of two years I got playboy, then they switched it up to golden boy."
"Aren't golden boys supposed to be nice?"
"Screw you Graham." His words seemed passive, but his eyes shone in humor.
Unedited for now