Post by Sloane Taylor on Aug 29, 2022 16:48:49 GMT -5
Seb and Sloane’s apartment
New York
“Do I want to know what you’re up to?” Seb asked with a bemused look as he stared at his girlfriend who sat in the center of their living room, various items strewn about the floor around her.
“Probably not,” came Sloane’s sing-song reply as she continued stuffing tissue paper into what looked like a large, round hatbox, frowning and then removing some before adding it back.
“Fair enough,” Seb muttered to himself, preparing to turn around and just ignore the chaos… but he couldn’t. With a sigh, he turned back around. “Alright, I’m asking anyway. What are you up to?”
The Sloane halted her efforts at wrangling the errant tissue paper and huffed a puff of air to blow her bangs briefly up and off her forehead.
“Soooo, I’ve been thinking, with the way things have been going lately after Valor and then the hot mess that was the Mix, clearly our vibes are off. Or at least mine are for sure, and I need to fix that before my match with Lare-Bear–”
“Please don’t call him that,” Seb interrupted with a groan, but Sloane continued on as if he’d said nothing.
“And I was thinking, why not do something nice for him? Aren’t I always saying opponents don’t HAVE to hate each other? I mean, sure he says he despises me, but does he really? Not like I’ve done anything to him other than pin him once and beat him in other matches… oof,” she trailed off and winced before brightening. “Anyway, Larry-Berry’s having a super tough time right now too, except his is more personal. You know. Wife. Kids. Poof,” Sloane said it all very seriously, Seb just managing to stifle his laugh.
“Wait… you’re putting together a gift basket for Tact?” He asked, suddenly putting two and two together and then shaking his head before she could even answer. “Nope. No. I want nothing to do with this. You keep my name far away from… whatever that is,” Seb insisted.
“Sebastian Everett-Bryce!” Sloane got to her feet with a stern look on her face and her hands on her hips. “He’s lost everything. And then I might probably take his title too soooooo… it’s the least I can do?” she finished with an awkward grin.
Seb sighed.
“Well, that at least explains all the questions you’ve been tweeting at him. He hasn’t responded to any, has he?” Seb asked.
“No,” Sloane grumbled. “He’s steadfastly ignoring me, and I hate it. BUT… I’ve managed to get a couple suggestions, one from Mac who said he loves chocolate truffles…”
“That doesn’t sound made up at all,” Seb said, rolling his eyes.
“And then Shane Donovan said he heard Larry’s favorite color is gold. Oof. That’s gonna suck for him,” she muttered to herself, but then brightened when she suddenly had an idea.
“Right, well, I’ll leave you to this and see about dinner. Any preference?” Seb asked, but Sloane was already fully concentrated on the gift box again, adjusting the tissue paper until it looked like flower petals opening up.
Seb shook his head and entered the kitchen.
Everett-Bryce Estate
Cobham, Surrey
The fact that there was an “Estate” attached to the name of the Everett-Bryce home in Surrey was enough to set Sloane’s teeth on edge and make her want to run screaming for the hills, though she would never tell Seb that. It was intimidating, coming from the humble, modest upbringing she’d had in Chicago to this sprawling manor house that actually had servants. Servants. No, they’re not just in movies, the place was big enough it needed a STAFF to see to it as well as the needs of the inhabitants within.
Back home, the only “Staff” she’d had was when she’d bribed Kit into doing one of her chores, and if she’d ever referred to him as that, she would have been willing to bet he’d have had some choice words for her.
How would he react to seeing all this? Would he be intimidated by it, her brother?
Sloane was lost in thought as she meandered through the family’s library, one of her favorite rooms in the estate. She hummed to herself as she did so, just enjoying the smell of the books and the gleam of the sunlight as it streamed through high windows onto wooden shelves. Every so often, something would catch her eye and she’d draw the book from the shelf to examine it before replacing it.
Some of Seb’s old children’s books were even in here. Or she assumed they had been his. She was just about to test her assumption by selecting one of the books to see if there might be any errant marks from a child inside when a voice behind her stopped her in her tracks.
“Ms. Taylor. I see you’ve found your skill level.”
Sloane groaned inwardly at the sound of Clemence Jessops behind her. If there was one person she hated seeing… or being around… or hearing… or breathing the same air of… it was him. She’d tried to like Seb’s father’s right hand man, really she had, but he was just so… nasty.
“Mr. Jessops, what brings here?” Sloane asked, ignoring his barb as she turned to face him, mask already in place so he wouldn’t see the dislike clouding her features. Still, it was there in her eyes. Sloane had never really learned to hide those.
“You, actually. I’m meant to apologize for my behavior toward you at the party the other night. Apparently, I was… overzealous in my attempts to get you to–”
“You were trying to get me to sell myself, Mr. Jessops. Let’s call it what it is,” Sloane said sharply, her tone making him look at her anew.
“We would have gotten you out before anything… untoward… occurred,” Jessops said, though Sloane wasn’t entirely certain he was telling the truth.
She didn’t trust this man, not as far as she could throw him, and she could probably toss him a little ways anyway. With some momentum.
Sloane thought back to the party she’d been at, sans Seb, though that had been by design. After the fiasco of the last event they’d attended together for his father, he’d been placed on the sidelines. Sloane felt the guilt begin to creep in as she thought of Seb and the way she’d hedged her answers when he’d asked her about the evening, but she knew, she knew exactly what his response would have been.
He’d have wanted to kill Jessops. And the editor.
Sloane suddenly realized she’d been silent for some time with Jessops just staring at her with the same dispassionate look.
“You appear lost, Ms. Taylor,” he observed before she could speak, sliding his hands into the pockets of his pants as he moved slowly closer to her.
“I know where I am, thank you,” Sloane said abruptly, and Clemence chuckled.
“I don’t mean physically, though, I suppose you are a bit of a fish out of water here, aren’t you?” he asked.
Sloane flinched, her insecurities rallying behind his words, eating at her.
“I’m fine, thanks,” she said in response, though it was easy to see she wasn’t at all.
Clemence chuckled again, and this time he was close enough he barely had to raise his voice above a whisper to speak. Still, every icy word he uttered sent a wave over her.
“You don’t belong here, Sloane. We both know that. You’re a bad joke, a bet that went too far. You’re out of your depth, out of your league, and you’d be so much better suited to carrying a tray of drinks instead of drinking one of them. Isn’t that what’s running through your mind right now?”
Sloane felt herself go cold, hearing the things she’d thought to herself so many times. She quickly blinked back tears that threatened to spill, not wanting to give Clemence the satisfaction.
“No. It isn’t,” she said flatly, turning to look at him, the tears gone.
Jessops’ smile was oily, telling her without words that he knew better, knew her mind far more intimately than she would ever want him to know her. His gaze drifted over to one of the servants dusting a shelf. His eyebrow raised as he leered at her.
“There’s something to be said for fucking the help,” he said pointedly.
Sloane felt her revulsion for this man rise, and she could bear it no longer.
“I’m going to find Seb,” she said, starting to move past him when he caught her arm. On instinct, Sloane yanked to pull free, but when he wouldn’t release her, she turned back to him, fighting every muscle in her body that demanded she slap the taste out of his mouth. “Let. Go.”
Clemence angled his head, but his fingers released their pressure and he removed his hand.
“Before you go rushing off to find the pampered prince, you should know your laptop is ready. We’re finished with it,” Jessops said smoothly. “You can take it back at any time.”
“Where is it?” Sloane asked, surprised at how eager she was to have it back considering she didn’t spend much time on it. Still, it was hers, it was personal.
“It’s just inside Sebastian’s father’s study. There’s a table there to the side, you’ll see it. Just be quiet about it, he’s a busy man, as you well know. Even moreso with the information you’ve somehow managed to gather. Luck, I would guess,” he said with a smirk.
Sloane just looked at him for a moment and turned away, making her way to the study with the things he’d said burning in her mind and heart.
There’s something to be said for fucking the help.
She hadn’t even realized he’d never actually apologized.
Seb and Sloane’s apartment
New York
Sloane had been at it for at least an hour, and Seb had to admit he was intrigued as he kept watching her add things, frown, arrange them, remove them, add them in a different order, only to then put them back as they had been the first time.
“You know he’s not going to appreciate the thought and care you put into this, right?” He asked from the kitchen.
“Sure he will. He may not say it, but he’s gonna love it. In fact, I bet he won’t say a word about it, but when he’s relaxing at home after I soundly kick his butt again and take his title, he’ll be like… you know what, Sloane was on to something. And then he’ll think he’s obvs been too hard on me and then he’ll congratulate me on my win and we’ll be buddies after that,” Sloane finished as she adjusted something in the center of the gift basket, hidden by spills of tissue paper.
“Uh huh. And what exactly have you included in there that you believe is going to make this miracle happen?” Seb asked.
“Oh. Well, I have the chocolate truffles that Mac suggested, in a variety of flavors and fillings so he has options; then I have some relaxing face masks and eye masks to help with puffiness and refresh his skin; a couple of hair masks, because his is looking like it could use some help, no shade. Oh! I got him some lotion that smells good that helps soothe aching muscles, you know, so he doesn’t smell like an old person when he uses it. He wouldn’t tell me what his favorite movies and stuff were so I took the liberty of adding some of my favorites to the box,” she said, reaching in and picking up a few blu-rays of Clueless, Ten Things I Hate About You, Leap Year, and the Clone Wars movie.
Seb raised an eyebrow.
“You think Larry Tact is going to want to watch rom-coms, teen movies, and Star Wars?”
Sloane frowned at him, her brow furrowing.
“He needs gentle movies right now, and there’s some funny stuff and good life lessons in those. Plus everyone needs Star Wars in their life, maybe that’s what his is missing and it’ll instantly make him a better and more likable person. Everyone will totally thank me, and you’ll have to admit you’re wrong. Publicly,” she said smugly.
“I won’t hold my breath. Are those shoes?” Seb started to reach into the box to pull something out, Sloane lightly swatting his hand.
“Yes they’re shoes, size 14 to be exact,” she said proudly.
“How do you know his shoe size?” Seb asked.
“Welllll…” Sloane hedged. “See, I needed to know if he had any allergies because of some of the stuff I have in the box, like the chocolates and then there’s some bath oils in there, super manly and relaxing stuff obvs, but he wouldn’t tell me if he had any. Sooooooo… I may have gotten Cypher to hack the Level Up health records and find out for me, and while he was finding out, he also gave me his shoe size so I could get him some super comfy fuzzy slippers,” she finished brightly.
Seb stared at her, amused.
“Of course you did. Seems like you’ve thought of everything–”
“Oh, I have, I even put some books in there for him,” she added excitedly.
Seb paused, a mischievous grin forming on his face.
“What kind of books, Sloane?”
Sloane paused in her adjusting, a deer in headlights.
“Hmm?” she questioned as though she were absorbed in her task, though the questioned sound was just a little too shrill. Seb grinned further.
“I mean, I know what kind of books you read. Is that the kind you have in there for him? Your… fairy porn books,” Seb asked, laughing full out when Sloane whirled around, her cheeks red.
“I did no such thing, Sebastian Everett-Bryce,” Sloane protested, her face hot.
“Pity. He could probably use one right about now. Speaking of, did you happen to drop a fleshlight down into there?” he inquired.
Sloane frowned in confusion.
“A what?”
“Oh, nothing,” Seb said. “Dinner’s almost ready,” he changed the subject as he moved back into the kitchen, leaving Sloane to ponder what he’d said. She pushed to her feet and walked out of the living room, coming back with a book that she held to the side so Seb couldn’t see the title. Still, as she was placing it in the box and adjusting the tissue paper around it, he spied the title of one of her favorites, ‘A Court of Thorns and Roses’, and he bit back a laugh.
Everett-Bryce Estate
Cobham, Surrey
With Clemence Jessops’ words and his warning ringing in her head, Sloane pushed the heavy wooden door to the study open as quietly as possible. How Seb’s father worked in the darkly brooding atmosphere, she wasn’t sure. The air felt heavy and thick– and there on a side table just past the door, right where Clemence had said it would be, sat her laptop.
It was strange, she hadn’t had any kind of sentimental value with the laptop, not really, but she felt the relief building in her chest as she gently picked it up and clutched it to herself. She was just starting to back towards the door when…
“Who’s there?” Seb’s father called from within his study, standing up from his desk to peer down the short, dark hallway.
Sloane winced.
“It’s umm… it’s just me, Mr. Everett-Bryce, Mr. Jessops said you were done with the laptop so I was just getting it–”
“Ah, Sloane. Sit for a moment, have a drink with me, my dear,” he said jovially, and Sloane thought she let out a squeak of apprehension. Still, she made her way toward the light in his study as well as the substantial wooden desk and the man that stood behind it. Sebastian’s father was already pouring an amber liquid into two glasses, passing her one and indicating she should have a seat.
Sloane took a cautious sniff when he wasn’t looking, barely disguising her groan as she could have sworn her nose was now burned on the inside from the fumes from within the glass.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you, I was trying to be quiet,” she began, but he waved her off.
“Nonsense, you didn’t disturb me at all, in fact, I welcome the break. Feel free to interrupt me whenever you wish,” he said in a jovial manner that seemed the complete opposite of the man Seb painted him as.
Sloane could feel herself smiling.
“Alright. I’ll keep that in mind,” she said.
In response, Mr. Everett-Bryce raised his glass in a silent toast and drank, Sloane realizing with growing horror she would have to do the same. And so she did.
She could have sworn she suddenly knew what it felt like to be a dragon. Heat singed her throat and unfurled in her belly as the scotch burned its way down, and she found her eyes watering a little. But she could hide all that, what she couldn’t hide was the embarrassing hiccup that worked its way out of her throat. Sloane slammed a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide.
“Mmm so sorry!” came from behind her hand, the words muffled.
Seb’s father laughed, outright laughed at her reaction, and shook his head.
“Sip, Sloane. You’ll find it smoother that way,” he said with a nod.
Sloane raised the glass with trepidation and did as he’d said, taking the tiniest of sips, finding him to be correct. The burn was manageable now, and if she didn’t hold the liquor in her mouth too long, it was actually quite pleasant.
“I did want to talk to you Sloane, one on one I mean,” Seb’s father said slowly.
She bit her lip, what could he possibly want to talk to her about?
“I spoke to Clemence.”
“Oh. That. Don’t worry about that,” Sloane said, taking another sip trying hard to cover the awkwardness she’d felt. She knew Clemence had crossed a line, not just with her but with Seb’s father too. God, if Seb had found out, he’d have derailed everything. In that moment, she felt guilty for being thankful that Seb had been barred from these kinds of events. He couldn’t have missed what was happening.
Plus she’d never have been able to lean into it as she had without him there. She had tapped into Sheridan and her old sugar baby days, and she’d worked that room with ease. Not a single one of those rich, powerful men had stepped out of line. She’d forgotten what a rush it was, the flow of adrenaline when she had them in the palm of her hand.
And then that feeling sank as she thought back to the final offer, the one that had driven her from that room and taken away all of her power.
“Nevertheless, I reviewed the recordings. I’m not at all happy with what Clemence had asked you to do,” he said.
“Please, it’s…” Sloane began, but Seb’s father waved her down.
“No, no, please,” Seb’s father said. “Hear me out.”
“Alright…” She said, taking another small sip.
“He should never have asked you of that, never put you in that position. It was unacceptable, and he put a member of my family in danger,” he said emphatically.
Did… Did he just say ‘his family’? Sloane did her best not to beam.
“That being said, he is an important part of my operation, and I couldn’t risk letting him go…”
“What? No! There’s no need to let him go. Just so long as it doesn’t happen again,” Sloane said smiling, feeling the warming effects of the scotch working on her.
“Of course not. I’ve made it quite clear that he shouldn’t push decisions like that without discussing them with you first, not thrusting them at you when you have no chance to make a decision.”
“Did… Did I ruin things again?” Sloane asked. She tried hard not to sound child-like, but she knew that she’d failed.
“No, no, my dear,” Said Sebastian, kindly. “We have other avenues. Plus the intelligence you gathered for us was priceless. You know what they say… A bird in the hand…”
“Right,” said Sloane eagerly, trying really hard to think about the end of that saying. “Is worth… Two in… Your bush?”
“The bush… Sloane,” Sebastian Everett-Bryce II corrected.
Sloane immediately turned a bright shade of pink.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” She said, before starting to chuckle. Seb’s father held himself together for just a moment longer, before likewise descending into laughter.
“Soooo… did you get everything you needed?” she asked, raising the laptop a little to indicate what she was referring to. Seb’s father cleared his throat and pulled himself together, clearly wanting to return to his previous state.
“Sloane, you and your laptop have been a complete help to me and my company. A godsend, you might say,” Sebastian Everett-Bryce II said seriously
Sloane beamed, her cheeks warm from the praise and the scotch.
“It was an impressive client list, to be sure,” he continued, his fingers wrapped around the top of his glass as he twirled it absently. “There’s actually a couple of names on there I’ve wanted to set something up with, but I can’t manage to get a date set.” He sighed heavily and reached up, pressing his fingers into his eyes. He looked tired. Weary. As if something untold was weighing upon him.
“It’s difficult,” he said. “Trying to keep everything together all the time.”
She suddenly felt the urge to comfort him, to tell him that he was doing a super amazing job. She imagined no one ever gave him real compliments.
“I had hoped these meetings would ease some of the burden. But it’s proven to be even more of a challenge,” he said.
Sloane’s eyes widened as she suddenly perked up.
“Maybe I can help,” she suggested, taking an even smaller sip of the scotch this time.
Sebastian’s father was already shaking his dark head.
“I can’t ask you to do that. You haven’t had contact with these people in years–” he began, only to be interrupted.
“Mr. Everett-Bryce, you don’t have to ask. I’m volunteering. I wanna help,” Sloane said with a smile. “And maybe I can’t do anything, but I can at least try.”
He watched her for a moment and then smiled and nodded.
“Fair enough, Sloane. You have my gratitude for even wanting to try. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some work to get back to, but… Clemence and I will be in touch,” he said, his smile growing sharper.
Sloane swallowed, wanting to ask if it could just be him and not Clemence, but she remained quiet.
“Of course. I know you’re busy,” she said, getting to her feet with the laptop tucked securely under her arm.
And so, Sloane quietly slipped out of the room, leaving her unfinished glass of scotch on the desk. Seb’s father watched the door close behind her before breaking into a full wolfish grin and chuckle. Reaching across the desk, he picked up her glass, swirled the liquor within, and downed the contents as he mused.
Seb and Sloane’s apartment
New York
With dinner over, Sloane found herself sat in the living room, the finished gift box with all of its elaborate decorations taking up much of the kitchen counter. Seb was nowhere to be seen, having left after they’d cleared the table on some errand. Sloane sat her phone up as she so often had, scooping up Lord Quilliam as he scurried past, his little legs working furiously. She brought the hedgehog up to her face, brushed his nose with hers as she scrunched her face, and then set him back down on the floor before looking to the phone, smiling brightly.
“Hiya, Larry! And everyone else watching, I guess. Hi to you guys, too,” Sloane said with a little bit of a giggle. Her eyes suddenly widened and she looked from her phone to behind her, visibly relaxing when she realized the gift box and all her hard work were hidden from view. Still a surprise. She breathed a sigh of relief and ran the back of her hand across her forehead, as if wiping sweat from it.
“Whew! That was a close one. Nearly gave myself away. But don’t worry about that, you’ll see what I’m talking about, Larry-Berry,” she gave a secretive wink. “I imagine you’ll rage or roll your eyes at that little nickname, and that’s fine. I know you don’t like me for whatever reason, in fact you’ve gone so far as to say you despise me which seems pretty heated considering all I’ve done is… well, beaten you. A few times. And pinned you once. Yeah, I’m gonna talk about that because it seems super relevant considering the date we have coming up for Combat Evolved.”
Now it was Sloane who rolled her eyes.
“Not a date date, but a date. Like it’s the date we meet and you lose the Power Championship? Yeah, like that,” Sloane settled, smiling for a moment before the smile slipped into a frown. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and before you say ‘Oh, that must be a new experience for you’ it isn’t, okay? Anyway, I’ve been thinking, and… you’ve lost a lot lately, Larry. Your family. Matches. From what I hear, you recently lost in your attempt to claim the Intense title in PRIME. I can’t really say much, I lost the Disavowed Championship in PWValor and then Seb and I were knocked out of the Margarita Mix on the opening round, though to be fair, that wasn’t exactly our fault. Still, this is you we’re talking about, not me. And I think I know what the issue is, Larry Bear.”
Sloane settled herself more on the couch as she thought.
“When I was really little, my dad used to read me this book about a lion with a thorn stuck in his paw. It made him really grumpy, and you know, being a grumpy lion, most didn’t want to be around him. Well why didn’t the lion just pull the thorn out of his paw himself, I’m sure you’re asking, and that’s super simple seeing as lions don’t have thumbs. Kinda impossible to do it himself, don’t you think? Anyway, the story was the lion got a thorn stuck in his paw and he was all miserable and grumpy and kept trying to find someone to remove it. All these animals kept saying ‘Nah, I’m too busy brushing my teeth’ or something like that, but not brushing their teeth because animals don’t do that. I get that animals also don’t talk, but in this story they do. Just no teeth brushing. That was a bad example.” She quirked her mouth to the side as she realized she was rambling.
“You’re that grumpy lion, Larry, and you’ve got a nasty thorn that’s been stuck in your paw for 8 months now. In case you didn’t get that, the Power Championship is your thorn. Got it? Okay, good. So, you’re the lion, and you’re wandering around without thumbs with this thorn stuck in your paw and you’re trying to get people to help you get it out. Raab said no. Ziggy said no. Kat said no. Now, in the story, the lion wandered until he finally found a little mouse who decided to help him remove the thorn. It was an act of compassion in the end, from a creature the lion hadn’t thought to ask, but surprised him and helped him anyway.”
“I’ll be that act of compassion for you, Larry. I’ll remove the Power Championship, your thorn, that’s causing you so many issues. And you won’t even have to thank me for it,” Sloane said with a wink.
“Because here’s the part that everyone tries to ignore, even though I do such a good job of proving it to be true everytime. I’m so very good at this. Call it Chaos. Call it Disavowed. Call it Power. Whatever you want to call it, something about stepping in that ring when all bets are off just fits who I am. Sure, I could go for the Courage Championship, given that I’m the Sky Queen and all… I’m pretty sure you wish I was going for the Courage Championship, don’t you Larry Bear? But you see, people tend to try and push me into a box and keep me there. Too pretty to be a wrestler, so I proved them wrong. You’re a high-flyer, that’s all you can do, so I proved them wrong. You don’t really belong, you just got lucky, so I proved them wrong. Over and over again,” Sloane said with a smile.
“I love proving people wrong, Larry. But I love proving the people who believe in me right even more. I loved proving Seb right when he told the world that I would be the Disavowed Champion. I loved proving Tempest right when he called me his Final Girl. And you know who I’m going to enjoy proving right the most? You guessed it, Larry-Berry… I’m going to enjoy proving that little voice in the back of your head right, too. You know the one. The one that says that Sloane Taylor’s got your number. Seb always said I look good in red,” Sloane added with a coy smile.
The door to the apartment opened, drawing her attention to Seb as he entered.
“Get what you need?” Sloane called absently over her shoulder.
“Yep, perfect,” Seb answered noncommittally. It was then that Sloane heard the rustling behind her.
“Seb, are you in Larry’s–” a pop was suddenly heard along with a strangled cry from Seb. “-- basket. You found the glitterbomb didn’t you?” she finished with a sigh. With a wince, Sloane turned around to see her boyfriend standing over the giftbox, covered in gold glitter, a look of resigned horror on his face.
Sloane sighed.
“Well, at least now I can rethink the color choice. I kinda think giving him gold is a little mean considering I plan on taking it from him as well. OMG Seb, what were you even doing, you’ve messed it all up!” Sloane fussed, brushing Seb aside and completely ignoring the fact that he’d barely moved or said a word since the bomb had gone off in his face. She quickly fluffed the now sparkly tissue paper.
“What is this anyway?” She asked, pulling out the plain brown box. She began to open it up and looked down into it.
“I was just—” he began, Sloane cutting him off with a shriek.
“Sebastian! Is that supposed to be a… it looks like a…. SEBASTIAN!!”
Sloane’s cry of frustration and annoyance could be heard throughout the apartment building.
