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 Posted: Sat Apr 23, 2011 9:43 pm
((This solo is retroactive, to the night the BMC event ended.))
It was two in the morning when Szelem Montgomery's phone began to ring incessantly. The gravid woman grumbled, smacking her hand in the direction of her nightstand, where her alarm clock glowed brightly, silent. When the action caused no result, she pulled her head wearily from soft down pillows and glaring at the soft glow of her cellular. With one hand she reached out, snagging her phone and glaring at her ex-husband's name on the caller ID. She flipped it open quickly, pausing a moment to collect her thoughts before bringing it to her ear. Her answer was terse, no surprise considering both the hour and the status of their relationship.
“You better have a damn good story, Mike. I was asleep.”
“Where do you think,” he started, and the woman immediately bristled at his tone, green eyes flashing, gone on the defensive, “Correction; Where the hell do you think that Jada is?”
Jada? What? “Asleep, like everyone else on the East Coast.” the 41-year old's prompt reply had the older man ready to chew bricks, and probably spit them at her. High speed. But what could Szelem do? Jada had expelled her mother from her private residence weeks ago, after that unfortunate incident regarding Szelem telling her that the blue-haired twit deserved what she got. Out on the streets til who knew when, of course she'd be injured and hospitalized. Jada hadn't forgiven her for it, and their eldest child was legally an adult, if not mentally. Michael disagreed, he said Jada was a smart girl.
Szelem just remembered when their oldest-- at the time, their baby-- would sit there, watch her mother put on makeup, eyes adoring. For Szelem, Jada would always be that doting, adoring five-year old, who snuck clothing and jewelry from her mother's closet, and wanted to be just as beautiful as her mommy. The same child who stared at her mother with a face that was just like a mirror to Szelem's past, with eyes just like her father's. She'd been born from love, and she stood as a symbol of everything Szelem had sacrificed for it.
“Did you forget that you were allowed to return to DC because you swore you'd keep an eye on her? You swore you'd keep her under control, Szelem. When did she go to sleep?” Allowed to return. The words rankled, and Szelem was pricked just as he'd meant. Allowed to return to her hometown. Bah!
“I swore I'd keep her from drawing the board's attention to her, Mike. But I'm her parent, not her keeper. Don't get snippy with me at two in the morning, understand? I can't have her within arms reach all of the time, not unless you want her knowing that the board-”
“Jada's in the Emergency Room, Szelem. Just like her little friend, the blue-haired... Audrey?” yes, like Hepburn. A pretty child. Shame what had happened to her. She'd been honest and loyal. The accountants had gone over Jada's books almost as soon as she vanished, and the chit hadn't taken anything not given her rightfully. She'd been a good kid. Michael listened to his ex-wife make a little noise of surprise, followed by her breathing, before he continued. “Multiple lacerations. They have her hooked up best they can, but she's... like before. After the subway wreck.” Then, she had been screaming from the pain. Now her actions were all done in silence, as though she'd lost a voice. Or maybe she was too hurt to have voice. Her skin was cold, clammy, and she'd been unconscious when they took her in to ER. Her heart beat erratic, and the doctor who had spoken to Michael had been grave, at best. She was O-, and they'd had a hard enough time getting her proper transfusions before. Now she was dangerously low on blood, and it was even harder. Universal donors did not equal universal recipients, unfortunately.
“This better be a sick joke.” Joke or not, Szelem was moving quickly. She slid a dress over her head, sliding her feet into a pair of sandals. It didn't take long to brush her teeth, run fingers through her hair and grab her car keys, and she could hear Michael doing much the same on the other end of the line. Speakerphone was good, and he sounded so calm. She, on the other hand, was cursing up a storm as she bumped her toes and her rounded belly against furniture, counters...
“Already teaching your bastards to have a mouth like yours?” he didn't sound the least bit perturbed. Szelem knew him better.
“Don't be a jackass. You're aggravated at the situation, and we have better things to worry about than your wounded pride about my baby.”
“What was she doing out at two in the morning, Szel?”
“Mike, please. What were we doing out at 2am?”
“Not getting stabbed!” She hummed mildly, listened to his snarl, and put her car in drive. The engine was purring, and he knew she was driving the car he'd given her. It had been a gift from a weak man to the woman he loved. Michael was stronger, now, and the love was replaced with resignation.
“I'll be there in a couple of hours.” he was taking the plane, not driving.
“I'll be there in half an hour.” she retorted, as if it were a competition. And really, hadn't it always been?
Michael hung up the phone with a terse goodbye, and Szelem turned her attention to the road.
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Posted: Sun Apr 24, 2011 9:08 pm
The room was silent, and Szelem Chamberlyn was staring down at her daughter's still, quiet body. The machines were beeping, telling her that the girl was still alive. The doctors had been very stern as they had told the older woman the severity of the damage. It wasn't pretty, but they thought they'd gotten to all of the major bleeders. She was young, healthy, and had been proven to recover well and quickly from wounds. Still, the man had been quick to remind Szelem that last time, Jada had been more... functional. Last time, he meant, Jada hadn't been on life support. Physically, the doctor had decreed somewhere around 6-8 weeks to enough recovery for her to leave the hospital. First she had to pull through, though. Szelem knew she'd been desperate as she spoke to the doctor, probably sounded like a crazy woman. Asking questions about what Jada's physical needs would be when she came home, when no one knew if she would even make it through the next 24 hours. If Jada made it, her mother was going to murder her. With a spoon. It would be slow, and painful.
Outside the room, she could hear Mike talking to the doctor. His voice was a comfort, like a security blanket, in a lot of ways. He'd been 20 years old when they had first met, and she had been the 14-year old daughter of his employer. At 24 years old, he'd been in his prime, and she'd convinced him to elope instead of asking for her hand. After all, her marriage was already decided on. Her fiancee had political ambitions that she did not share, came from an influential political family. Her parents had said love could come after marriage, as theirs had. But they just hadn't understood. They never understood, and until the day she died, Elisabeta had sworn she had no child.
Jada was just like Szelem had been. She was willful, stubborn, didn't understand that to sit back and let her parents find her a husband would free her of the blame of a bad decision. Jada was a romantic, and allowed to marry on her own, could easily make a disastrous choice. Look at the friends she kept! Fallon had been the only wise choice, and even she... well, they were all still children. They grew up too fast now, and yet even slower than when Szelem had been their ages.
The last time their daughter had been hospitalized, there hadn't been any concern over her survival. Only over her beauty. Scars on her back did not work with the mold she'd been forcing her daughter into. The woman's belly gave that odd little clench it had been giving since Mike had told her about Jada's accident. A nervous clench. It was painful, and she patted her round belly. “Now now.” she told her baby. “Don't you get stressed.” A kick was the response and Szelem winced. The door opened and Michael stepped into the room, moving over and pushing Szelem lightly into a chair. “You look peaked. Sit.”
“Don't you tell me what to do Michael Chamberlyn.” She was still sitting, not fighting him. They were silent for several minutes, listening to the sounds of machines. “I thought you said it would take a few hours.”
“I overestimated.” it was only 3:30. His suit was rumpled, his hair was unbrushed.
“You were still up.” she commented.
“I have a project due a little before lunchtime.”
Things were so awkward now. Szelem pushed up, babies pushing on her bladder. “I'm going to the bathroom.” she announced it to the stillness of the room, as if he cared where she went, or who she went with, anymore. She'd lost his caring when she'd cheated on him. When she'd decided to keep the children. When... when she'd found out that money mattered more than family, sometimes.
Jada's monitor beeped, startling them both and bringing nurses rushing in, ushering them out. Through the window they could see the men and women poking and prodding, more lines, more drugs, more... anything. The odd flip in her stomach, the baby kicked again, and Szelem felt that odd rush of wetness and groaned.
Mike glanced over at her, and recognized the familiar look on her face. “This better be a joke, Szelem.” She shook her head and he cursed. “Who-”
“Jada was supposed to be my partner, Mike. She was going to-” her lime eyes widened, staring between her daughter and her children. “No, no, it's-”
“Shhh.” he pushed her down into a seat. “Hey, we've done this before, right? Three times. What's one more?”
“It isn't your- your responsibility.” she said finally, weakly.
“No, but when have I ever left you alone?” Another nurse was coming, with a wheelchair, summoned by his gestures. “We'll get through this, and then we'll bring the baby to see their big sister. Okay?”
Szelem was being wheeled off, and Michael glanced through the window at his daughter. No one could spare a look for the anxious man outside. No one anywhere. Finally he trotted after his ex-wife, heading for the maternity ward. One step at a time.
No news was good news.
= = = = =
Six in the morning, Michael made it back to see Jada. No infant in his arms yet. Jada was stable, or at least unchanged. She wasn't having a terrible reaction to the donated blood, not yet. Eight in the morning, Michael used his laptop to email his presentation to Vic. Next to him, Zora and Lucas rested their heads against the wall, yawning. Kayley had elected not to make the flight home; she would see all of her siblings in June, By noon, Szelem was the mother of another set of twins. Giulia was the girl, with a full head of light brown hair, and Aidan was the bald little boy. They cried, loudly, their mother's children all the way.
Jada's condition was stable. Had been since the alarm that had sent Szelem over the edge. Zora was curled up next to her, a few nurses teasing her lightly as she assumed a familiar position to most of the people who knew Jada's medical history. Laptop out, feet on the frame of the bed, hand near the nurse call button. Lucas fretted nervously outside the door, but refused to go in. Szelem was able to visit for a while, until she had to be taken back upstairs to rest. Michael relaxed, making the rounds between children and ex-wife. Neither of the children wanted to go home yet, and Szelem was in no shape to be there for them- not that she ever was. Her version of being a bulwark was to be as domineering as possible. Michael's was to just be there, working, making his presence known silently.
Two days later, Szelem took her children home. Jada remained behind, breathing quietly, still and silent but alive.
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Posted: Thu Apr 28, 2011 7:11 pm
((Still backdated. This solo takes place on April 15th, 2011.))
Everything was bright. That was the first thing that she registered as her eyelids fluttered. The brightness hurt her head, so she closed her eyes again. Beeping, a terribly annoying sound. Constant. The rush of air, pressing against her nose. A tube in her throat, a familiar feeling. Her mouth was dry, and she ached all over. Especially her stomach. She went to touch it, only to find she couldn't move her arms. They were heavy. They were strapped?
For three days, Jada had lain still and silent. Her body had been healing, quickly to most people, but she wasn't exactly conscious, and the doctors had seen stranger things. On the fourth day, she had been moved from the intensive care unit. Her belly was a bruised mass, what could be seen around the poultice, and she was littered with stitches. They'd had to perform surgery on her, and kept a close eye on her for infection. She'd lost no vital organs, though they'd worried. Her liver had been a close call. No infection had set in so far, and the stitches were holding, not that she was moving around to strain them. She could feel the IV in her arm, creeping through her veins like a worm, and she twisted, hating the sensation.
The room was empty of all people but herself as Jada opened her eyes finally, blinking at the bland walls and the speckled roof. Within reach was the familiar little button she could press, and summon a nurse. It was nearby, even strapped loosely. Instead of pushing it immediately, she let her eyes adjust, and tried to remember what had wound her up in here this time. The last thing she remembered... Jada's brow scrunched as she tried to collect her thoughts. She'd been...
All she was doing was drawing blanks, and it was not comfortable. She shifted her weight, tried to twist, and pain blossomed in her gut.
She pushed the button.
It was less than half a minute, and a nurse was beaming down at her, saying something about stitches, and doctors, and carefully pulling the apparati away. Ah, so that wasn't the morphine button after all. They must have changed some things. She dealt with it patiently, especially now that the tube was gone, and the air was not blowing in her mouth and nose, making her feel dry. She opened her mouth, and they all paused, looking at her like she was an interesting bug on display. “Yes?” The nurse asked finally, after Jada worked her mouth for a few moments, trying to get up the moisture to speak.
“Water.” she said finally. “Bath.” Two requests. The first was given to her- a literal teaspoon. But no bath. Instead they wanted to have her relax some more. Check her pain levels. And pry into what she remembered.
“What day is it?”
“Thursday.” She saw them glance at each other.
“What's the date?”
“March...” What day was it? “9th? 10th?” It was going to be time, soon. She wouldn't be any help to the Court if she was laid up in the hospital. She felt a hand pat her hair, and the nurse was saying something else to her, but her eyelids were heavy...
She woke up and outside the window was darkness. Her mother sat next to the bed, and Jada tried to push herself up again, to talk to her. Pain, again, and her mother pushed a small button. Relief, almost instant. They had her on the good s**t, huh? She smiled burrily at Szelem, and then frowned. Her mother was slender. Well, not slender, but visibly not pregnant. “Baby.” she mouthed, and Szelem glanced down at her belly.
“They are at the house, Jada, in the care of Zora and Nanny.”
“Rehired...”
“Yes, of course. You didn't expect me to raise my own children, after how you turned out?” the older woman saw Jada wince, knew the barb had struck home. “They tell me you don't know what happened.” she looked her daughter over carefully. Creamy skin was dark with bruising, the inherited light tan almost a gray, with the pallor underneath that spoke of her close call. Her hair was a knotted mess. “No one has come to visit you, you know. If you're hurting yourself for attention, Jada, it is doing you no good.”
“Not crazy.” she muttered.
“You don't have to be crazy to be suicidal, Jada Marie.”
“Not gonna kill myself.” each word was dragged out, achingly slow, each response after a long pause while the young woman translated and connected the hastily spoken dots Szelem presented.
“Jada.” the older woman waited until Jada met her eyes, ignoring their lack of focus. “Today is April 15th.” Tax day, Jada's brain supplied helpfully. Followed by Wait, she said April? “Jada, I must insist on the truth.” She let her daughter nod. “What happened?”
“Don't know.” the heiress was frustrated. “Can't remember.”
= = = = =
“No visible damage to the brain, no terribly obvious bumps to the head.” the doctor was being incredibly patient. “It could be she doesn't want to remember.” the woman had been harassing him all afternoon about her daughter. When could the patient be returned to her parents care? Did he feel the wound was self-inflicted? Did he think Jada was lying about her lack of memory? “Maybe, he suggested, she just doesn't want to remember. Stress can do that to a person.”
“she needs to be able to-”
“To heal, Mrs. Chamberlyn.”
“Montgomery. Miss Montgomery.”
“Perhaps you could listen to some advice, Miss Montgomery?” he waited until she was scowling down at him before he spoke again. “Patients don't take kindly to being forced to remember. It will come in time, or it won't come at all. Your daughter seems very capable, considering the circumstances. I have no reason to believe she stabbed herself.” Not with what the wound had looked like. Most suicides in his experience had gone for a bullet, or the wrists, not the fattiest part of their gut. “Give us two weeks with her, here in the hospital, and then we'll let her go.” She nodded finally, firmly, and turned on a pointed heel, beginning to stalk away. “And Miss Montgomery? If I may make a suggestion to you and Mr. Chamberlyn?”
“Yes, Doctor?” she looked him over, as if he were dirty. Women.
“I'd suggest allowing her visitors to have access to her at some point over the next few weeks. Being in the hospital can be very lonely. Maybe it would help the healing.”
“And maybe, doctor, I am the one who will decide if my daughter will be allowed back under the influence of her common little friends. They are at fault for this, I can assure you of that right now. No visitors, do you understand?”
Ah well. He'd told the nurses he'd try, and he had.
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Posted: Mon May 09, 2011 9:19 pm
It was noon on April 25th when Szelem bundled her daughter into the backseat of Michael's Rolls Royce, ignoring the girl's weak protests that she could do it herself. It was plenty warm outside, yet the 18-year old was bundled in a long-sleeved top and light sweater, jersey pants hung loose on her hips so as to not disturb the light dressing on her abdomen. The young woman had healed well and quickly, considering the severity of her injuries, but the doctor had made her promise to take it easy and allow her body to heal. The outside healed before the inside, Dr. Anberlin had agreed with the hospital doctors, and Jada could harm herself more if she tried to go back to her normal life too fast.
Normal life. Hah.
A promise to take it easy, Jada reflected as she stared out the windows of the car, was not the same thing as a promise to play the part of a helpless invalid. The doctors wanted to limit her moving around, limit her lifting. On her physician's firm insistence she was not to lift more than five pounds at a time (at least not where anyone could see.) The heiress was forbidden from taking aspirin or any medication that thinned the blood, and her diet would be under strict restrictions. Vitamins were key, painkillers were encouraged, physical activity was to be limited. She could not go for rides on Lady. She could not go out jogging. Bellydancing? Kickboxing? Yoga class? Forbidden. Shopping? She needed a bag carrier, and could not go on an extended trip.
Her first day back in her home, purple eyes stared around as though she didn't recognize it. In some ways she didn't. Everything about the place was superficial. “Where is my phone?” she asked, noticing that not only had her cellular been denied her in the hospital, but even her home phones were gone from their places on the wall. Nanny was feeding Giulia and Aidan, and the girl noted with some interest that her residence had apparently been taken over by her mother and the new children. Why?
“It must have been lost when you were injured.” Szelem lied. The woman had confiscated it and had no intention of giving it back so that her daughter could reconnect with her delinquent friends. “We can get you a new one.”
“I don't have any numbers written down.” Jada leaned back, her response surprisingly listless. A lie, of course, but it didn't matter. She had been in the hospital for two weeks, and the only visitors had been family. The nurses had told her no one ever came to visit, and given her pitying looks. It was a terrible day when someone like her was being pitied by someone who had to work for a living. Why hadn't anyone come? Then again, why should she have expected someone to?
Leaving the dinner table that evening she went upstairs, shutting her bedroom door behind her. It didn't close, just pushed against the jamb. Castor wound around her ankles, purring at his Girl, the Toyger more than happy to see his person home. The heiress pushed open her balcony door and moved out onto the roof, settling down on her lounge and patting her leg. The cat jumped onto her lap and nuzzled her, stepping gingerly on her belly to butt his head on the underside of her chin, making a contented noise. Affection from a cat. Well, it was someone she hadn't driven away.
“My list of hobbies is terribly short.” she confided in the feline.
“Purr.” was his sage advice. “Purrrrrr.”
“I don't think that would work as well for me as for you.”
“Purrrrrrrrrrrr.” he flopped down on her and she winced, moving him off her belly. Inside the room, on her desk, was a pile of homework that she would have to finish. Not much of the pile was left, honestly, since she'd had no visitors and nothing to do during her two-week stay in the hospital. A few papers that needed to be typed up, not much else. It seemed that being stabbed was a great way to get an extension on classwork.
On the piano bench she could see the unopened bag of personal belongings. Maybe that was where her henshin pen was? She stood up, ignoring the worried mewls of her feline companion as she moved back into the bedroom. Jada trailed her nails over the hospital bag. She needed a new manicure. Her nails were a mess. So, for that matter, were the tangled ends of her hair. The piano keys were dusty, the girl noted, and left the bag unopened. When was the last time she'd played? Around Christmas? Mid January? When was the last time she'd used her harp, run her fingers over the strings. When was the last time she'd gone out late at night just for the pleasure of smelling the air? She'd been out to clubs, and each one of late had been a disaster all its own, and even those had been... weeks ago. Months ago?
Was it really only April?
Jada missed her phone.
Her laptop sat on her nightstand and she sat on her bed, reached out to lift the device with a grunt, pressing the power button once it was settled on her lap. The screen flickered to life and the device began to load, then the screen flickered to blue. “You're shitting me.” she groaned. Perfect.
“Watch your mouth.” Szelem pushed the door open with a foot, her hands full of papers. Her lime eyes took in the sight of her daughter, the open doors, the cat that had followed his mistress and was laying across her pillows, belly up. “I wanted to talk with you.”
“You have been.” Jada's voice was anything but jovial. She hadn't forgiven her mother for... well. Now it was water under the bridge. Audrey was gone, had been gone for several weeks. Even if it felt like yesterday. What did it matter, now, that Szelem Montgomery was mostly a vile goblin who fed off of trampling other people under her pointy little heels? She was her mother, and Szelem loved her, in her way. Somehow, however, she imagined that the courtesy of giving her mother a fresh chance would go unnoticed and unappreciated.
“This is a conversation in which I expect your full participation.”
“Ma'am.”
It really was like looking into a mirror when Jada looked at her mother. “Your father has agreed it is time we left Destiny City behind for good. You are to come to Europe with your siblings and I.”
“Nonsense.” It was Jada's first reaction, and she knew her mother had been expecting it. “This is my home.”
“You're a recluse, Jada. Where are your friends? Who came to see you in your convalescence? No one. Not Fallon, Not Elke, not a former classmate. No one of consequence so much as breathes around here anymore. Your social life is piteous, and all you do it work, work, study and be hospitalized. Where did your hobbies go? What happened to your dreams?”
“You mean what happened to your dreams? Or do you actually mean mine?”
“Either!” Jada let out her breath and started to move her laptop. Szelem reached out and took it first, setting it back on the nightstand. “No mother wants to see her child like this. You're pitiful, Jada. Bruising and broken, hands growing so rough. You're getting muscle, darling. Self-defense courses are well and good, but you're... We're watching you change.”
“Change is good.”
“This is the wrong kind of change.”
“Take Zora, take Lucas. Go. I won't.”
“You don't have a choice, Jada. We're going, tomorrow.” Szelem stood up, leaving the papers spread out on Jada's covers. “Here are a few women's colleges overseas. Start looking them over. We'll be taking a flight to Florida in the morning. We decided a transatlantic cruise should be quite enjoyable. By the time we get to Rome you should be well enough to make an impression. They say the sea air is quite healthy for an invalid.” Not again. She couldn't handle this again. “We'll discuss this more later. Your clothing has already been prepared, so no need to pack. Nanny will get you up at 6.”
Jada didn't need Nanny to wake her up. “I'll be ready.” her agreement was quiet. Meek. What her mother wanted to hear. She watched her mother leave the room and locked the door behind the older woman. Jada moved over to her vanity, opened it. Inside the old wooden desk was a compartment, from which she pulled out a necklace. Andromache's. In the mirror was Jada, cowed into quiet submission by her mother's forceful personality. In her hand was the last remnant of a woman who had fought and died for what she believed in.
“You're weak.” she told her reflection, the gems dripping over her hand. Her stomach gave a fierce twinge, as if to agree, and Jada dropped the necklace onto her vanity. Her cat mewed at her, leaping up onto the desk and stepping over the jewelry to bump his head against her. “What should I do?”
“Purr.” he advised her. “Purr.”
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Posted: Mon May 09, 2011 9:22 pm
For almost two weeks Jada Chamberlyn had been living on board a cruise ship, trying to convince her mother that Destiny City was not a hive of scum and villainy. The transatlantic journey from Ft. Lauderdale in Florida to Rome had been enjoyable, and it had put color back in everyone's face, especially hers. Healthy food and fresh air had done wonders for improving her pallor. They'd seen dolphins and whales, sharks and other sea creatures. It had been enjoyable, but one thing had been made crystal clear. She was going to be allowed to go back to Destiny City over Szelem's 'dead body.' Which could (theoretically) be arranged, but wasn't likely to be considering that Jada's father and all of her siblings (minus Kayley) did not agree with her decision. Jada's house, Szelem informed her, had already been sold. The remaining personal contents of Montgomery manor, including the precious replica of the Black Pearl, had been shipped to Szelem's home in France. Jada's items were still being prepared to be shipped, and were in storage in Destiny City.
Her passport and her drivers license were all the personal items she had aside from the clothing Szelem had selected for her. Castor had been allowed to stay with her, since money could, apparently, buy any privilege. Andromache's necklace remained close to her heart. How was she going to get home without her money? The cheapest flight she was able to find from Rome to Destiny City (using Zora's pilfered laptop, since her own was still blue-screening) was over $4000.00. It could be cheaper, if she really wanted to fly Coach, but did she? Jada had never flown Coach in her life. For that matter, she'd never looked at the cost of a plane ticket, or worried that Daddy wouldn't pay a bill. She would be able to dig up the money for a ticket. Her parents knew her spending habits. Her fondness for cute things. Expensive things. And it was her money. She could just tell Szelem she was going home. There was nothing they could do to stop her, and she demanded her credit cards back. But that would end terribly, probably for her. All that was left was...
“Daddy.”
“No, Jada.”
“I don't want to live in France. It smells terrible.”
“No it doesn't.”
“Yes it does.”
“Jada.”
“Daddy, please.”
“I won't let you stay in Destiny City. It is a death trap.”
“I have something there I can't leave, Daddy.” the line crackled. Satellite phones. The rate for this call was probably obscene, the connection crap. “I can't.”
“You don't have a place to live.”
“I can find someplace.”
“I won't pay your bills. You'll be alone.”
“I have my own money and a few skills. I can get a job. And come visit on holidays.”
“Besides, your mother will never forgive either one of us.”
“Daddy!” Michael sighed, listening to his daughter start rambling. His daughter had always been foolishly stubborn. He could support her a little, or he could let her struggle in vain, allow her to wear herself down. “...want to try!” It sounded like she was winding herself down at last. “Please!”
“I'm not paying for a single thing.” he said calmly. “However,” he continued, “What you do with your own money is up to you. You get a small allowance, and what you choose to do with it is up to you.” it made her silent, at the least. “I hope you know what you're doing. Your mother and I won't help you. Your finances are a mess since your accountant disappeared. And actually, your spending habits have put quite the dent in your trust fund. Are you funding the entire House of Gucci? You can't keep those habits up and survive on your own. Your house sold. I won't pay for your apartment. You can't live in the old house,”
“Of course.” her voice was hurried. “I told you. I'll find a job and everything.”
Could she really?
Szelem was furious, as expected, but she agreed to give Jada back her cell phone at the least. It was a step forward, and with the addition of her debit cards grudgingly handed over, enough to purchase her plane ticket home.
It would be Jada's first time riding coach on a plane.
“I give it a week.” he reassured her. “Jada's used to privilege. She won't make it on her own.”
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Posted: Sun May 22, 2011 10:31 pm
((still, terribly backdated.)) It was noon when the plane between Rome and Destiny City landed, and Jada Chamberlyn was one of the first to scramble off it, breathing in big gulps of air. Ugh. Flying Coach was a terrible experience, and she never wanted to suffer through it again. It took forever to get through customs, mostly because she had a ton of luggage. She had two checked bags, a pet and a carry-on. Really, over $2000.00 and the whole time she'd been forced to sit next to a man who smelled like corn chips? And the woman next to her had been crying the whole nine hours, and sucking snot back up her nose. By 4:15, she was hauling her little roller bags out of the airport, all too conscious of her newfound 'poverty.' Had she thought this act of defiance against her parents through? Not really.
In her purse she had $325.19. In her bank account she had $672.43. A grand total of Jada Chamberlyn's assets? $997.62, a cat, an entire suitcase of shoes and jewelry, four pairs of blue jeans, a pair of dress slacks, a toothbrush and assorted nice shirts. She hadn't brought underwear. She hadn't brought her dresses. Luckily for her, she had no house payment, no car payment. The downside to this was that she also had no home, and no car. Her credit cards had more than likely been turned off by now, and even if they hadn't, her father would not be paying them. Not to mention she would have to get them resent to her- Szelem had given her the debit cards with a scowl on her face and Michael's voice on the phone cajoling her.
The young woman poked her cellular phone nervously when it finally turned on, breathing a heavy sigh of relief as it lit up successfully. All of her contacts were still there. As she poked through the phone, a single text message came through. “And where do you plan to live?” It was a legitimate question, one that Jada had thought over on the plane ride. Hotels required credit cards. Apartments required employment. She had a small stipend that would be coming through which her father would not block, even still being in control of her finances, but it was agonizingly small.
“Where to?” asked the taxi driver as her last bag was loaded into his trunk.
If she were going to survive, she would need a job.
Her skill sets were varied. Her job experience was almost nil. She'd volunteered for most of her high school years at the library and she'd worked for her father- who was more likely to stand in her way than provide a job reference. Surely Anthony-Darling could be counted on. Maybe he even needed part time help? Elizabeth's Secret knew her as a good client, and several other places knew her as a customer, but a customer relationship would not translate int her current situation. The young woman had thought, before, about trying to be a model, but where did one start? And how many good artists or photographers were left working primarily out of DC? No; it would likely be retail. Unfortunate.
In the meantime, where could she stay while she was recuperating and looking for employment? “Where to?” she heard the taxi driver ask again, and she glanced back down at her phone blankly. Name by name she scrolled through the people she knew. Arma, Elke. Collins, Andrew. Collins, Audrey (Still in her address book). Eintetta, Seth. James, Cassius. King, Johnny. Novette-Naim, Fallon. (Her fingers lingered briefly over the name before she changed her mind.) Perses, Adira. Price, Barnaby. Thompson, Kirin (Computer girl! She would need to call her about the laptop). Xanis, Elzo. Xanis, Marlo. Yalda, Noel. There were more names, more people in here, all people associated with her family. Only a few she might call in this situation. “Hey, Lady!”
“I'm sorry.” she sounded numb. “One moment.”
A name was chosen, and she lifted the phone to her ear. She only knew one friend with more than enough room to spare, who wouldn't notice one more person staying for a few days. “Xanis? I need one of your hotel rooms. Long story. Can we call it a favor for a friend?” She listened to his question, then, “No, I'll tell you all about it when I get there. Thank you.”
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