Strangetown: Chapter Twenty Four - part one

[strangetomato]

 

Warnings: language, sexual situations


Chapter Twenty Four

Part One





Edie Worthington was just returning home after a morning of recording with her band, Llama Dance Party. Her longtime girlfriend, Val, greeted her as she entered the apartment.




"Busy morning?" Val asked.

"Yeah. Lots of recording"

"How'd it go?"




"Oh, really well," Edie said, "I'm just exhausted. I'll be fine after I grab a shower."

"Yeah, you're still sweaty."

"Nothing like a vigorous morning workout." Edie mockingly flexed her arms. "I have forearms of steel! Who needs to go to the gym, when you have a drum kit?"

Val laughed.




"I'll make some lunch. You go on and take that shower, and it will be ready when you get out."

"You're the best, Val."

"Oh, and Frances called. I nearly forgot."




The phone rang, and Frances was happy to hear his sister's voice when he answered it.




"You were looking for me, Frances Jules?" She always got him with the childhood name.




"Yes, EDITH." He countered by using her full name, knowing that this bothered her about as much as his middle name bothered him. "How are you?"




"I'm great. So what's up, Frances?"

"Would you be interested in going for coffee? I need to get out of here for a while."




Frances glanced over to where Tank and Kendall were sitting together, deep in conversation. Despite his claims that Kendall was nobody special, Tank had been seeing a lot of her lately, and she had been showing up at their house too.




Frances didn't want to hate Kendall, but he really couldn't help himself. She had Tank's attention, one way or another. She liked him, and she had the guts to actually do something about it. She had the courage to do what Frances did not.




"Is everything okay, Frances?"




"Yes, Edie. I'm fine. I'll explain when I see you."

"Okay. Let's meet at The Golden Cup. The usual."




"Okay." Frances smiled. He could always count on Edie. He called a cab, and walked into the kitchen to wait for it.




He could have called home for a driver to come pick him up, but the idea of that made him feel physically ill lately. Any reminder of his wealth and inheritance did. He really felt the pressure, more and more. He'd get the occasional call from his mother, or a few choice words from Lillian, and every bit of contact with his family only served to drive the facts further home. He may as well call a cab, he figured. He may as well see what his options really were. He never heard from his father, but he didn't need to. He knew what he'd say.




The cab pulled up to the house, and Frances walked out to meet it, barely glancing into the living room as he walked past.




As he approached the door, he felt two pairs of eyes turn to look over at him, but he didn't look back.




Edie was waiting for him outside the coffee shop when he arrived.

"About time you showed up," she said, "I'm dying for a caffeine fix."

"Traffic was terrible."

"It's that time of day." They headed inside.




"So," Edie began, "Will you be having the usual, Frances?"

"Espresso for me, today," he said.

"Oh, really..." Edie raised an eyebrow. "Well, this must be something big." Frances was usually more of a sugar and cream type.




"So, what's up, Frances?'




"It's Tank," he said.




"Why am I not surprised?" Edie sighed.

"Look. I know what you're going to say," he began, "and yes, you did tell me so, but Tank..."




"Well, he sort of has a girlfriend now. I think. Maybe."

"He 'maybe' has a girlfriend?" Edie's look of pity said it all. "Oh, Frances, dear..."




"Well, they don't really 'date', as such, but she's been hanging around."

"You don't still think he might be gay, do you?"

Frances just frowned.




"Frances!" she said, "You have to get over it, already. Do I need to hit you over the head with the stick of reason? Do I have to drum some sense into you?" Edie was becoming seriously concerned about him.

He sighed. "I know, Edie. I know."




He did know, didn't he? He wasn't stupid, he was just in denial. Tank obviously liked women. He had been talking to that Ophelia girl at the party too. Frances had heard their conversation, from where he was eavesdropping. They didn't spell it out, exactly, but something had obviously happened there.

Okay, so Tank liked women. That didn't completely destroy his chances. Frances still clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, Tank might like men too. It wasn't impossible. Plenty of people were like that. Frances obviously envied anyone who had a choice in the matter, since he never did. His life would be a whole lot easier if he was even remotely interested in women.




He sighed. Even if Tank did have a choice, why would he pick Frances over someone like Kendall? She had the advantage, not just in her obvious charm and beauty, but she was far bolder. She liked Tank, and she had the guts to do something about it.




He would never be able to do that. Especially not now. Or would he? Was it better to take a chance, and risk losing even Tank's friendship? If he didn't, he might regret it forever.




"I know what you're going through, Frances," Edie said, "It can be hard to let go, especially if you've invested so much time and energy into nurturing that crush, but you really should consider moving on."

"I know that."

"I know you know it. You just need to accept it."




Across the room, a young man and a boy in his teens were standing at the counter, perusing the coffee selection. It was obvious, to even the casual observer, that they were brothers, both from their manner and their appearance. They shared the same impossibly blond hair. The man was instructing his younger brother to make an order.

"Have whatever you want, okay?" he said, "My treat. Don't even look at the price. Have you ever had a coffee before?"




"Yeah, Dustin. I've had coffee. We're not THAT poor."

"I know that, Beau. Shit, I didn't mean it that way. Some kids don't start drinking it until they're older."

"I'm old enough." He continued to look at the choices on the menu, and finally made a selection. It was true that this would not be his first coffee, but he'd never had any of the fancy coffee drinks that they served here. The price was a little shocking too. He couldn't help but check that. It was force of habit.




As they turned to find a seat, Beau Broke noticed Frances and Edie sitting near the window. He observed them with interest. He liked how all the people in Sim City looked so cool and urban.

"I like his sweater," he said.

"I could get you one. Just say the word."

"I don't know... seems expensive, Dustin."

"Well, yeah, but you're my brother. I could get it for you."




"How can you afford that? You already bought me these new clothes. I mean, I appreciate having something new for school in the fall, but isn't that a lot to spend on me? Where is all the money coming from?"

"There's plenty of money to be made here in the city, Beau. I have my ways. I've been working hard, you know, to make my fair share." He noticed that Beau was still glancing over at the man with the sweater.

"That guy's a Worthington, you know. Richest family in the city. She's one too, by the looks of it."

"They're Worthingtons?" His eyes widened. "How do you know that?"




"I'm pretty sure they are. They have a certain look to them. You can't miss it, once you know what to look for. That inky black hair and the air of superiority."

Beau looked over to where Frances and Edie sat, deep in conversation. Frances was nodding and smiling, while Edie told a story with an animated flourish of her hands. They seemed happy. Was it the money that made it so? Maybe money couldn't buy happiness, but surely, it couldn't hurt. He would have what they had, one day. He wouldn't rest until he did. Dustin Broke saw the look on his brother's face.




"We'll get there. Don't have any doubts. Hard work and determination, Beau. That's what gets you ahead in life."

"Well, If there is anything I can do to make something of myself, I will, Dustin. We need to really buckle down and pull ourselves out of the gutter, so that we can look after Mom in her old age."

"She'll be looked after, don't you worry," Dustin said, "You're going to go to college and get make use of that brilliant mind of yours. I've been saving up for it, so you'll have no worries. Any college you want, Beau. Even the Academie. Just say the word... and then you can go on to do wonderful things."




"Thanks, Dustin." Beau smiled. His brother was so good to him. The clothes and the trip into the city were one thing, but to pay for him to go to college was more than he had ever hoped for.

"Lucy's going to LFT, right?" Dustin asked.

"Yeah. She thought it would be cool to get away, and they have excellent arts programs. I'm not sure about the desert thing, but it would be nice have Lucy around."

"Well, wherever you go, I'm sure you'll excel. You've always done so well in school. You'll graduate with honours and get a good job. We'll put the Worthingtons to shame, believe me."




"Shhh. They'll hear you."

"Like I give a shit if Mr. Fancy Pants hears me."




"Well, there's no need to be nasty about it, alright?" If anything, Beau thought it would be a good idea to befriend those people with wealth and power, rather than making enemies of them.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm just excited."

They walked towards a table, and Beau changed the subject.




"Have you seen Angela lately?"

"No. She's so busy with school and the show, she doesn't have much time for me anymore. It might be different if I had gone to Sim State with them, like Dirk did."




Beau simply nodded. He felt bad for Dustin, who hadn't been able to afford university, but also grateful that he was seeing to it that Beau himself would have the opportunities that he did not.

As for the Angela thing, he knew that it bothered Dustin a lot more than he let on, but he didn't want to bring that up. There were a lot of temptations out there for an actor, especially one who was becoming as well known as Angela and Lilith were. Beau didn't know Angela all that well, but he doubted that his brother was always the first thing on her mind.




"It doesn't matter," Dustin said, as if reading Beau's mind. He smiled with his typically wry grin. "I get by just fine on my own out here. Coming to Sim City was the best decision I ever made. Gordon was kind enough to get me set up with a nice apartment, in a decent neighbourhood, and I had a job in no time. You could probably do the same, quite easily. The job market is great here."

"Unlike Pleasantview," Beau said.

"Yeah, it's a dead retirement village. All shallow rich people, or those who hope to make a buck off of them. And then there's the trailer park where we live, which is swept under the rug. They don't put that on the tourism maps, do they? No big surprise there."




"No. Not a surprise at all. If you were trying to develop tourism, you'd do the same."

"Why would anyone want to visit Pleasantview, anyway?"

"I don't know? The pleasant view?" Beau smiled, hoping that Dustin appreciated the joke.




"Yeah, 'Come to Pleasantview - Where every view is a pleasant one'." He quoted the newest ad campaign. "They're lucky that the ugliness is invisible to the naked eye. The people are attractive enough too, but they have some ugly souls." Beau thought that Dustin might be judging them all a little harshly, but there was some truth to it. It wasn't as idyllic as the ad would have you believe.

"Well, the tourism is a good thing, anyway." Beau attempted to lighten the tone of the conversation. "It will create more jobs for people who desperately need them. The show is what draws them, though, not the view. People want to see the place that inspired Pleasant View."




"Yeah, inspired..." Dustin thought about it. "Right. It's basically non-fiction."

"It's a little exaggerated, Dustin."

"Well, maybe just a little," he said, "but not really that much."




"So, how is the rest of the family?" Frances asked. "I don't call home that much, because, well, you know..."

"Oh, I know," Edie smiled, "I have to force myself to get the nerve up to make the calls too."

"Is Lillian still seeing that same guy?"




"Yeah... Armando Cox. I'm sure you've heard of him, right?"

"He's an athlete, right? Some kind of a big deal?"

"Yeah, he plays soccer. Or football, as they call it in Veronaville."




"You're still on that kick?"

"I get it from Val. Now I'm all Verona-fied."

"Didn't she move to Sim City as a child? It's not like she grew up there."

"Yeah, but she has roots there. That's what matters, Frances."

He rolled his eyes. "People will cling to any little thing."




"Like you - we - can talk."

"I don't go around tell people that I'm a Worthington, Edie! God. If anything, I avoid the subject at all costs. People look at you differently. They judge you... want a piece of you."

"If you're trying to hide it, you're doing a piss poor job, Frances. With your on-campus house and your fancy clothes. If you really wanted to blend in, you'd try the dorms, and go to class in your pajamas. Your cheap, tacky pajamas."

"Well, maybe I don't want to blend in THAT much."

"Face it. You're just a snob. Don't pretend that you arent."




"I'm not that bad."

"You're a spoiled, snobby, little rich kid. No wonder you don't have any friends."

"I have friends!"




"You have 'friend'."

"Yeah, and even that..."

"It'll be okay, Frances. Try not to obsess about it."

"Who, me? Obsess? Never!" Frances sighed. "Anyway, back to Lillian. She's really thrilled about her latest find?"




"Oh, yeah. If you thought she was unbearable before, you haven't heard anything yet." Edie rolled her eyes. "This guy is a BIG effin' deal, Frances."

"Has she procured a ring from him yet?"

"Not yet, but I would say she's fast-tracking this one. He's the closest one yet to her idea of the perfect man. He's just as into all that fame and notoriety crap as she is. And he's rich, successful, and hot. If you're into that athletic manly sort of thing..." She winked at him.

"Yes, I've seen him on TV. Not bad." He was no Tank, but Frances probably wouldn't kick him out of bed, if he was ever presented with that highly improbable situation.

"Well, that's everything Lillian goes for right there."

"Indeed," Frances said.




Frances thought about his oldest sister. She was frightening. He avoided situations where he would have to be in the same room with her for very long. She never thought anything that she didn't immediately say, and her every thought was a critical one. Or a loud, snobby opinion. Or gossip.

She had nothing but contempt for Frances, the heir to the family fortune. Whenever they were in the same room, she wasted no time in bringing up a variety of reasons why he was unsuitable for the role, despite his ownership of the precious Y chromosome. As the firstborn, she thought that she should inherit it all.

"Charlotte has a real whopper on the line now too, if she can manage to reel him in." Edie continued.




"Oh, really? She must be so proud of herself."

"More like relieved. To finally get out of the house with Mom and Dad."

"What difference does that make? Moving from her daddy to her new husband... it's much the same thing, isn't it?"

"Not necessarily, France."

"Let's face it. For Charlotte, it will be. She's not exactly working with a very progressive outlook on life."

"Yes, that's very true. You're right."

"So who's the lucky man who gets to court her for our money?"




"You're not going to believe this..."

"Do tell."

"She been dating Malcolm Landgraab the fourth."

"She landed Landgraab?!" Frances couldn't conceal his shock.




"Well, not landed, but I think she's well on her way."

"Wow. He's in high demand."

"Extremely high," Edie said, "I say, good for Char. She must be doing something right. If you're into that sort of thing."




They shared a smirk, since neither of them was into that sort of thing at all. Edie had her obvious reasons, and Frances just thought he was uglier than sin.




"So 'the rules' work? Who knew?" He shrugged.

"Just imagine it, Frances. That could be you. Out there, auditioning women for the role of wife, just like Landgraab. The feeding frenzy will be intense."

"Don't remind me."

"At least you're just 'the third', and not the 'the fourth', like Landgraab is."

"As if that will matter."




"You're right. It'll be socialites and gold diggers, as far as the eye can see."

"I will have to kill myself," Frances declared.

"God, Frances. Don't be so dramatic!"

"You're right. I could just refuse the 'throne', but it's pretty much take it or leave it. I have no choice."

"Well, you know what I think."

"Yes, I know."




"I want you to be happy."

"But there's Mom too..."

"Yeah, That's true."

They paused to think about the situation with their mother.




Frances didn't want to do anything that might set her off and send her back to her old behaviour. She had made some excellent progress, but they knew that she still struggled with it, even after her last stint in rehab. Frances didn't want to be the reason for her to spiral out of control again. If he told them all the truth, he had no doubt that it would happen. His parents surely would not throw him some ritzy "coming out" party.

"I've been thinking of changing my major," he said. That, in itself, was a bit of a bold move.

"Really..." A smile spread across her face.

"Good for you, Frances."






"I think that's enough for today, Bella."




Pascal had just finished his weekly session with Bella. "We've made a lot of progress. How do you feel about it?"

"Oh, pretty good, Mr. Curious. I think the helmet has been helping a lot. Those memories are getting more and more detailed. At first, I thought they were just dreams."

"You're making excellent progress. Be sure to let me know immediately if you remember anything more current." Bella's memories had all been childhood memories so far. This wasn't very helpful in their quest to determine where she had come from.




So far, they had very little information to work with. Pascal didn't even know her full name. He wondered if Bella was even her real name. Only time would tell, as her memories returned. So far, his invention seemed to be doing exactly what he had designed it to.

Pascal wondered. If his invention had been effective in retrieving memories, could it be modified to block them as well? Perhaps it could be used to block unwanted thoughts, and even dreams?




It might be just what Nervous Subject needed. He had mentioned that his nightmares were bothering him, and that they always had, for as long as he could remember. When pressed for details, Nervous wouldn't tell him what the dreams were about, and Pascal respected his privacy. He knew it would be better for Nervous to talk about them, and share some of the burden of it all, but he obviously wasn't ready to do that. Even if he just wrote it down, it might help. Pascal made a mental note to suggest it.




Pascal frowned, as he thought of the obvious mental trauma that the boy must have gone through to end up so shaken. It wasn't normal to have that many nightmares. And then, there were also those voices to consider.

Pascal pushed those thoughts aside for know, and turned his attention back to Bella.




Pascal was determined to unravel this mystery. There was a logical explanation for everything.

There had been one detail from her memories that seemed like it might set them on the right path: a bright light. She kept recalling a very bright light. Pascal was guessing that this might indicate a near-death experience, and possibly a head trauma that had caused her memory loss, but her medical reports didn't reflect any head injury. It just didn't fit together. He was hoping that more details would surface eventually. He was confident that they would. As he had said, they had been making excellent progress.

"I'll see you next week, Bella. Keep doing those exercises, and wear the noodlesoother. You're doing great."

"Okay, Pascal."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I early?" Kristen Loste stepped onto the roof. She was there for her own appointment with Pascal.




"No. It's okay, Kristen. We ran over."

"Okay. Well, that's good." Kristen had come a long way since her run in with the Beakers. While her memories remained elusive, her confidence was returning. "Hello, Bella."

"Hello, Kristen. Nice day, isn't it?"

"Yes, very nice. Almost too nice. I'm sweating like a pig after the walk up the hill." Bella made a disgusted face, but then hid it with a smile. A lady shouldn't sweat, she thought. Or, at least, they shouldn't admit to it like that.

"Yeah, it is pretty hot." She turned to walk away. "Have a nice day now!"

"I'll see you next week, Bella." Pascal said.




"So how are you feeling, Kristen?"

"Oh, quite well, Pascal." She smiled, which always brought out the best in her. "I'm in a much better space now, mentally. I think I've come to accept it. It's not like I can do anything about it."

"Well, we'll do what we can."

"I know. But for now, as it is, I think I can deal with it."

Pascal was happy to hear this. "So I hear than Erin moved out."

"Yeah, she was happy to move back to her home. We haven't heard much from her, so I guess she's busy getting the place in order." She paused, then added. "Our house is a lot more peaceful now that she isn't there to bicker with Chloe all day." Pascal stifled a laugh.




"How is Chloe? And Lola? I've been so busy lately. I really should stay in touch better than I have been."

"They're both busy with work, doing their thing. You know Lola - she never stops. And Chloe is really involved with the restaurant now."

"Yes, that's right. How exciting for her."

"Yeah, well, she's not excited about how it's helping her to pack on the pounds, but I think she carries it well."

"Chloe can carry off anything."

"And nobody trusts a skinny chef, right?"

"That's what they say." Pascal gestured to the noodlesoother. "Well, let's get started here, shall we, Kristen? We're going to waste the day." Kristen nodded, and picked up the helmet.




Downstairs, Vidcund was in the middle of his daily toddler training session. He believed that vigorous study habits were the only way to achieve self-improvement, and this applied to babies as well as adults.




It was hard, tiring work, but it was all worth it when they reached a new milestone, and when they looked up at him with their little smiling faces. Galaxy had a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts.




Vidcund thought they were advancing quite well in their studies, even when they were left to their own devices. Orion was quite naturally drawn to musical activities, and he was already more talented in that area than Vidcund would ever be.




Vidcund thought that Orion was really quite a bit like Lazlo. Not in appearance, obviously, but he reminded him of his youngest brother in many ways. That always was a little upsetting, since they hadn't been seeing much of Lazlo at all. A visit here and there, but that was it, and it was always without Crystal Vu.

Vidcund disliked Crystal. It wasn't a secret.




It was true that she was a beautiful girl, on the outside, at least. He had been excited when she first moved in, but Vidcund had been quickly put off by everything else about her. There was just something about her. He didn't want Lazlo to get hurt, and he wasn't sure that she was right for him.




For starters, there was the physical transformation. She cleaned Lazlo up to better suit her own aesthetics. He looked good, but it just didn't seem like Lazlo anymore.




Crystal had given herself a similar makeover. It was sleek, sophisticated, and even a little dangerous. Something about it really unsettled Vidcund. It was just a haircut, but when someone had as much hair as Crystal did, that was quite a significant change. It was all part of her plans to climb her way into the upper crust of sim society.




Lazlo was even more mesmerized by her after that. He was completely under her spell.




Vidcund could deal with it, as long as his brother was happy, and, at first, he really was. Lazlo was head over heels for Crystal, and they did seem to have a lot of fun together. Slowly, though, that seemed to change. Crystal wasn't the same after Vidcund's twins were born, and she convinced Lazlo to move out soon after.

Now, they saw less and less of Lazlo all of the time. Pascal insisted that they had to respect Lazlo's decisions, that he was a grown man and could make up his own mind, but Vidcund wasn't happy with that. Maybe Lazlo couldn't see it. Maybe he needed someone to point out that he wasn't the same.




During a recent conversation, Lazlo had told Vidcund that he had attended a very elegant party in Bluewater Village, with a bunch of high society types. Their host, Malcolm Landgraab, was known for his classy dinner parties, and wild all-night events at his nightclub, Club Dante. Vidcund had heard of him, just as anyone would have, but he really didn't care much about that sort of thing, and he couldn't imagine that Lazlo did either. Still, he had asked questions and responded positively to Lazlo's story, even though it wasn't how he really felt.

"So, what did you wear to this thing?" Vidcund had asked him. "Your purple hippy tee shirt?" Vidcund had always thought that shirt was tacky, and he gave Lazlo a hard time about its cheerful interlocking sun and moon design.

"A suit."

"YOU wore a suit?"

"Yeah, Vid. I wore a suit. Is that so strange?"




"It's... different."

"Well, this was a different sort of event." Lazlo sounded a little defensive. "I had to look my best."

Vidcund thought, but didn't say, that it must have been Crystal's idea of what was "Lazlo's best", and it had nothing to do with his brother. He considered how he might safely bring up the topic. "So did Crystal help you pick one out?"

"No. I did it all by myself, like a big boy." Again, Vidcund wasn't sure if he had offended Lazlo, but then he laughed, which revealed that it was fine. "I'm not sure I really did a great job of it. I mean, it looked pretty cool to me. The tie was colourful, and the suit fit well enough, but I think that Crystal thought it was a bit goofy. I have no idea what's cool. Trends go right over my head."

"Plenty of things go over your head, Lazlo."

"Ha ha ha. So very funny. You're not exactly a fashion guru yourself, Vid."

"True enough."




"So, did you have fun?" Vidcund asked, trying to stay positive.

"Yeah... it was a good time."

Vidcund was not convinced. He couldn't imagine Lazlo happy in such a situation. Lazlo wanted to sit around and eat pizza, playing video games all evening. That was his idea of a great time. Crystal wasn't into that sort of thing at all. How were they a good match? She was attractive. There was no denying that. She was gorgeous, and she could probably have any man she wanted. He should probably be happy for Lazlo, having found himself such a stunning woman, but were looks really everything?




There was just something about Crystal that sent up warning flags for Vidcund, and he couldn't articulate exactly what it was. He pondered it over as he went about making himself a lunch, until he was interrupted by the ringing of the phone.

Damn telemarketers again, Vidcund thought. They always call you when you're getting something to eat, without fail.




"Hello?" he barked.






"Yes. It's me."




"... Fine."




"I heard about... everything."




"Tonight? I don't know..."




"Okay."




Vidcund slowly hung up the phone, and stood there, stunned, until Pascal entered the room.

"Who was that?"

"Nobody. Stupid telemarketers again."

"Really..."

"Yeah. I'm going to stop answering the damn thing altogether soon."




"Well, that's not really much of a solution, is it, Vidcund? Someone important might call." Pascal glanced at the clock to check the time. "I'm going to have to go out for a while, okay?"

"Where are you going?"

"Nowhere. Just the office to do some paperwork. The usual. I won't be late."




"Sure." Vidcund paused, thinking it over. Pascal's behaviour had been a little unusual lately, and with the mysterious death of Nervous Subject, he had reason to worry about him. Pascal probably needed to work extra hours to keep his mind distracted, but Vidcund still kept an eye on his moods. He seemed fine, but you never knew. "Well, be back by dark, okay? I was going to head into the office myself later."

"No problem. I'll be here."




Pascal headed out the door, but instead of heading to work, he walked down the hill to the Specter Estate.




Nervous would be expecting him by now.








 

Comments

[cindyanne1.livejournal.com]

Oops, yes I did mean Charlotte. (blushes) But yes I agree, Francis probably does get all his sisters mixed up. I have four girls myself and I always have to go through the list of names...

Haven't done it with my two sons yet, but I know that day is coming (grin)

[strange-tomato.livejournal.com]

I know that my grandmother, who has a very extended large family, gets ALL of us mixed up. I'm usually either my mother, my aunt, or my younger cousin... then finally she gets around to me. :) I just go with whatever name she gives me. You have quite a large family yourself! That must keep you pretty busy.