Author’s Note: This is one of two fics inspired by Viktor’s attack on MC in chapter 6 of book 2 and is my take on how Kaylee reacts (read the other here). Of the two, this fic is a bit lighter in tone, but also more of how I see Kaylee truly reacting. This particular fic is proof that it helps to have friends who know your characters almost as well as you do (thanks for this idea, L!). Important note: Kaylee’s pet ocelot is named Rocket (yes, after the raccoon).
Summary: Kaylee only wants to see one person after escaping Viktor’s attack. When she cannot find him, she heads home, only to find a fortuitous surprise awaiting her there.
After escaping the Montmartre Mansion, there was only one thought, one face, visible through the haze of unparalleled terror:
Seth.
I needed to see him, craved his tight embrace washing away my worries and keeping me safe.
But he wasn’t home; just my luck, of course.
In her usual fashion, Gloria had informed me of as much seconds before my knuckles made contact with the apartment door. She danced around my further questions with the grace of a professional ballerina, simply stating I would find what I needed at home.
There was a glint in her eye, one I couldn’t place completely but resembled mischief. Seeing as my mind was currently occupied by more pressing matters, I pushed the observation aside.
She thrust a mug emitting soul-soothing scents into my hands before I could interrogate her more, then invited me inside while I waited for another car. While we sipped our tea there were no questions into why my eyes were puffy, my hands were mildly trembling, or a baby ocelot purred in my lap. Instead we merely chatted about the weather and what Gloria had been up to since we’d last spoken. Apparently the night of the premier had been good to her- in ways I was sure I never needed to know about.
But the mindless banter had done it’s its intended job. By the time the third car of the evening arrived, my heart was no longer threatening to burst from my chest and my tear ducts weren’t working overtime to hold back a flood. Gloria bade me goodbye with a loose hug, gentle pat on the back, and a reassurance everything would work out.
“Times may be tough now, but the universe has a way of making sure things balance out; tides will turn ever in your favor again. The spirits and I are sure of this, dear. In the meantime, lean on that handsome gentleman of yours. Your true man.”
As much as I’d learned to believe in her eccentric talents, doubt continued to gnaw at me throughout my ride. How could this ever possibly work out? I’d turned down, slightly maimed, and run out on Victor Montmartre– someone known to ruin careers over something as trivial as a misplaced snarky comment. With what I’d done… well it’ll be my lucky day if anyone lets me wash their car on a street corner once he finishes dragging my name through the mud.
All because I wouldn’t sleep with him.
Who knew such a skeevy, power-tripping monster lurked beneath the surface of that finely tailored suit and perfectly coiffed silver hair?
To make matters worse, my ‘handsome gentleman’ had seemingly disappeared off the face of the Earth. Every text I sent went unanswered. Frustration churned in my stomach when my calls went straight to voicemail.
His phone was probably dead. With all the chaos and stress of the new movie production, he likely forgot his charger somewhere. So, of course, when I needed him most he was unreachable. Not that he would have anticipated his under wraps girlfriend needing comforting after a work dinner gone awry. That would be insane of me to expect, I reminded myself. But it did little to douse my disappointment.
Now, as I stare blankly at the ornate front door of my mansion, Rocket twining between my ankles, a black hole of despair threatens to open in my soul.
I’m alone. The one person I want…no, need… tonight is nowhere to be found. What does this mean for the future? Will I have to endure this new nightmare I’ve found myself starring in all on my own?
No. NO. Of course not. Don’t be a fool, Kaylee, you know your friends won’t do that to you… again. You know Seth could never do that, I reassure myself.
…Right?
I push the half-ton of doubt and trepidation down as far as it will go and work to unlock the door.
Why did I buy this place to begin with? Sure, it’s a beautiful representation of old-Hollywood- something I’ve had a love for and an interest in since my first viewing of Casablanca with my nana. But it’s also rather creepy and far more extravagant and vast than I’ll ever really need.
And oh so lonely.
While I could call my other friends, there’s some indescribable, yet annoyingly strong, force blocking me from doing so. I only have the strength in my current state of adrenaline-crash induced exhaustion to see one person. And he’s not here.
Resigned to a night of wrestling my newfound inner demons alone, I push open the door.
Rocket scampers in ahead of me, but I barely make it a foot inside before panic engulfs me again, the blood freezing in my veins.
There are a half dozen or more candles nestled around the foyer, casting a soft glow and light lavender scent over the room. Candles which were not a part of the room aesthetic when I left earlier.
Shit. He followed me. He’s here, waiting for me. I’m not safe here. I’ll never be safe. Not from him.
Approaching footsteps barely register over the pounding of my heart in my ears. Cursing my legs for refusing to listen to numerable signals commanding movement, I fumble to find anything remotely useful against the approaching attacker.
Yielding house keys and a pen, I poise to strike as best I can. An idea sparks in my racing mind.
“Rocket, get him!” I command, hoping the cub understands me in the least.
Across the room, his fluffy orange head swivels towards me before turning to the hallway. He bounds forward as a single white converse sneaker peaks around the corner. Fuzzy paws bat at blue denim playfully, a pleased trill filling the air.
So much for my attack-cat plan.
But as the supposed intruder becomes fully visible, understanding dawns on me. Standing before me, now cradling a loudly purring bundle of pure cuteness against his grey Henley, is the very person I most desire.
“Seth?!” I exclaim, half questioning.
“Welcome home, Iowa,” he says with a proud smirk. His brow creases when his gaze drifts over my defensive pose.
But I don’t give him long to ponder, running to him faster than the speed of light and wrapping my arms around him tight, my impromptu weapons clattering to the floor. A grunt escapes his lips as my head collides with his solid chest.
“Well it’s good to see you too,” he chuckles.
I nuzzle in close as he returns my embrace. Blanketed in his comforting arms, all worry and fear begins to melt away.
“Is this the new way we greet each other? Because I can get behind it. And maybe improve on it.” The smile in his voice elicits a soft giggle on my end and I savor its soothing feel in my throat.
“You’re here! You weren’t home because you’re here and… wait, what are you doing here?” I ask, pulling back and peering up at him.
A rosy pink warms his cheeks. “I wanted to surprise you with a relaxing date in. Ya know, since we have to be secret lovers and all.” His brow furrows again. “You went to my apartment?”
I pull myself from the depths of his ocean blue eyes, focusing on his shirt instead. “I needed to see you. I tried to call but I think your phone was off and… God, Seth, something…something happ…”
Tears brim in the corners of my eyes. My head finds safety against Seth’s strong chest once more and his arms follow suit, securing me against him. I try to continue my thought, but the words stick in my throat; a faint squeak sounding in their place.
“Oh shit! I forgot to turn it back on once I popped it on the charger. Sorry about that. But… something happened? Did Agave Tangerine give you a hard time on set again?”
His shirt muffles my single chuckle at his name for Apricot before seriousness settles in again. Soft cotton brushes against my face as I shake my head. “No. Montmartre. He….”
Images of the event flood my mind when the name leaves my lips. My entire body shaking, I squeeze Seth with all my strength. Every ounce of emotion I contain boils up, bursting forth in wet, salty droplets streaming down my cheeks.
Before I know what’s happening, I’m in the air cradled against firm pecs, then resting on Seth’s lap as he sits on what I can only assume is the nearby couch.
“Shhhh. It’s okay.” Seth murmurs soothingly. My heart surges at the raw affection in his voice.
We stay like that for several long minutes; his arms encapsulating me in a sphere of safety on his lap while one hand strokes my hair gently. When my sobs quiet, I wiggle free slightly and look up. Bright blue eyes swimming with worry and adoration stare into my soul.
“Sorry,” I sniffle, glancing down briefly at the dark splotches on my boyfriend’s shirt, suddenly embarrassed.
“Pfft, are you kidding? Tear and snot splatter on cotton is the new distressed denim. You just saved me a hundred dollars.” His voice is light and joking, but the concern on his face remains steady. He shifts me off his lap, our hips still touching, and hands me a box of tissues.
“So. Montmartre. You said something happened with him?” Seth ponders softly, as though each word might land too hard and shift the current mood. I nod, blowing my nose loudly into a tissue. When I fail to say more, he continues. “I’m here, if you want to talk about it. You don’t have to, obviously, but if you feel like it…I’ll listen.
Anxiety and warmth swirl together in my veins.
Part of me wants to tell Seth what happened, to pour everything out into the open. Yet another part, the nasty little voice in the back of my head, whispers he won’t believe me. Viktor Montmartre is close to a God in Seth’s eyes, someone who could sky-rocket his career in an instant. Or at least he was a few days ago. Still, will he really believe me?
Memories of months prior rush back: a star filled sky, a cool evening breeze, Seth’s firm words of support urging he knew I could never have leaked gossip to the tabloids. One more peek at the love currently etched in his features and the toxic voice vanishes.
“I do. I want to tell you. Now, if that’s ok.”
“No time like the present.” A half-grin tugs at his mouth. “Wait! I know exactly what we need first.”
A streak of grey and blue flashes by, an orange and black puff-ball following closely behind. When he returns, Seth carries two pints of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream and two spoons. He hands me one as he plops down beside me and I turn towards him with my legs crossed underneath me. With a deep breath and a mouthful of Chubby Hubby, for a boost of confidence, I begin.
“That bastard!” Seth fumes, once I finish; fury, the likes of which I’ve never heard from him before, burns along each syllable. His knuckles are nearly white from the solid fists he’s clenching. “We have to fight back, make sure everyone knows who is really is. When we’re done with him, that bullying monster will be sorry he ever so much as breathed the wrong way at you!”
I bite my lip, my eyes wide. Anxious, self-deprecating, silly, sweet, and comforting are all sides of Seth I’ve seen before, but angry Seth had yet to emerge before this moment; a side which is both impressive… and a tad terrifying. Apparently my face betrays my thoughts, because after one scan with his eyes, Seth’s features soften again.
“Damn. I’m sorry, Kaylee. I’m obviously not helping matters. I just… I cannot stand bullies. And seeing you hurt, well… it hurts me.”
Stretching up, my lips place a gentle kiss on a warm cheek. “I get it. You’re really passionate about this aren’t you?”
“Oh yeah. I’ve had some unfortunate experiences in the areas of bullies. But that’s not important right now.” He slings his arm around my shoulder to pull me close, his lips brushing against my forehead. “I’m her for you tonight. You know none of this is your fault right?”
“Yeah, I do. In my gut I do at least. My brain isn’t as easily swayed at the moment.” I sigh. “But this- having you here, you listening while I blabber on about it all, you believing me; it means everything to me Seth, truly.”
“Anytime, Iowa. I mean it. Besides, I’m a grade-A listener and moral-support giver, so you’re in luck.” I laugh as his eyes sparkle down at me. “And why wouldn’t I believe you? You’re… well you’re you. Only a fool wouldn’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth.”
His words settle into my soul, blanketing it with warmth and stirring up unease all at once. If only everyone was as open-minded as he is, this would be so much easier. But they’re not. And as much as I want to expose Montmartre for the pile of steaming calf-shit that he is, I’m well aware it won’t be easy. If it’s possible at all.
I burrow deeper into his embrace, relishing in the peace and safety I find there.
“I meant what I said, Iowa. Viktor needs to know he can’t do this to you, to anyone and get away with it. You’re planning to come forward, right? Attack him where it hurts most and cut him down a few dozen notches?”
Pulling back, I lock gazes with him, shocked yet again by the intensity burning along his features.
“I think so. I mean I want to. Hell, I’m frustrated I didn’t think to give him a good kick where the sun don’t shine earlier. But I don’t think it’s going to be as easy as you seem to think.” Seth begins a rebuttal, but I cut him off with a kiss. “I know- you know a thing about bullies. And we’ll get into that another time. But for now, I could sure use some snuggles from my boyfriend.”
“Of course. It really is your lucky night; if there’s anything I’m better at than listening, it’s cuddling. I’ve earned the title of ‘Best Snuggler This Side of the Mississippi’ five years in a row now.”
“Is that so? I’ll count my lucky stars you’re sharing your immense talents with me then.” His nose joins his eyes in a deep crinkle as he smiles.
“As you should.” He places a wet kiss on my nose before pulling me onto his lap.
After several silent minutes of Seth proving that his title is well earned, a rough hand grasps my chin gently, tilting it upwards. Devotion pours from piercing eyes and my heart skips a beat.
“Just so you know, Iowa, when you’re ready to face this all, to show this guy you mean business- I’ll be there, standing next to you. Whatever you need, I’m here for you. Because… I’m your guy, for as long as you want me.”
“Thank you, Seth, really. There’s no one else I’d rather have by my side.”
And I think I’d like you to stay here for a very long time.
-The End
