A House Is Not A Motel - CHAPTER 2 / 8
Author: kitty69lover
Rating: PG-13
Category: dramaz!!!
Characters: Anaïs Fernandez, Victor Valdes, Rafael Marquez, Kaka in a negative role aaaaaaand, a few surprises ;-))
Length: short story - 8 chaps
Warning: stemming from a dream, it's a little outrageous, ok.
Summary: the trademark Kitty spin of the classical love triangle.
Disclaimer: this is pretty much fiction.
Authors Notes: this is the birthday gift for my girl calypso_63 ! it was aweeesome meeting you hun and i hope it happens again. i'm happy i managed to write this, it was probs the oldest unfinished project in my fiction folder.
TWO
When everything is going so well, it's usually a sign that something very very wrong is about to happen.
Disaster stroke the very next week.
Anaïs was main shareholder of a sock factory (the other being her brother). The dividends helped her and her younger brother have a comfortable life after their parents died when Anaïs was 15 and her brother 9. Without being rich, she could afford designer clothes and to keep the nice house in Eixample they had inherited. And also, she could afford to send her brother to a prestigious boarding school in England.
While she had decided to not pursue higher education, and had not gone to University, she insisted that her little brother learned everything there was to learn. She loved him dearly, as the only remaining blood relative and she wanted the best for him.
Having enough money also meant she didn't have to get a proper job, so she worked for a glossy magazine, a tabloid actually. She was doing the fashion and society pages, submitting bi-weekly articles about various B-list parties she sometimes went to.
The job was a joke as the mag was rather trashy and cheap, so she never took it too seriously. It was pocket money and something to fill her time.
And so it happened that she was called to the board of directors meeting and they informed her that the factory was going into bankruptcy, that there was nothing to be done to prevent it, except for a huge cash injection, which was unlikely given Ms. Fernandez' savings.
They told her that selling the house she lived in and maybe getting a job, a real job, that would entitle her to get a large enough bank loan, would maybe salvage the situation. As each of the directors and managers left the spacious office, leaving Anaïs by herself, she understood she was going to lose everything she had, everything her parents had worked so hard for and that she had seemingly squandered away, like a spoiled brat.
She felt horrible, aware that she would now have to call her brother back and live a modest life and actually have to work, hard. She wasn't scared of that, but she hated that she would ruin her brother's dreams, that she would have failed him, her only remaining relative.
She sunk in a drunken disorder, pillaging her liquor cabinet and when two days later, she realised this was not helping her situation, nor getting her any money, she also found herself fired from the magazine, seeing that she had missed the deadline for her article and that nobody actually took her fashion advice seriously.
She was desperate to the highest degree and as she left the magazine's headquarters, she wandered the streets aimlessly, allowing her legs to carry her without much of her willpower involved. It was hours later that she found herself on the street she lived on and had to stop a little and weep at how much she was going to miss the only place she had called home, ever since she was born, once she sold it.
She walked up to her house and unlocking the door, she let herself inside, with a sense of remorse that was overwhelming. She collapsed on the couch, the tiredness of 5 hours' walking finally catching up with her and amid sobs and tears drying on her face, she fell into a deathlike slumber, hoping that she would wake up and everything would prove out to be just a bad dream.
She woke up at the startling and prolonged sound of the doorbell, the shrieking noise permeating her state of unconsciousness and pulling her out of the nearly comatose state she had succumbed to. Getting up from the couch, she dragged herself to the door and opened it with the shaky moves of a drunkard.
In front of her stood none other than her best friend, Victor Valdes.
“Wow Anaïs. You look like shit.” he greeted her.” the sarcasm in his voice drowned by a tinge of concern.
She mumbled something unintelligible and she retreated towards the inside of the house. In passing by the floorlength mirror, she caught her reflection and she let out a strangled noise, taking a step back to see herself.
Dried makeup smudged all over her face, eyes swollen and puffy red, her auburn hair looking like a family of birds made nest in it and generally a sickly air was what looked back at her, adorning a tight smile.
“What happened to you? I've been trying to get a hold of you for 2 days now.” Victor asked, without any other commentary on his friend's otherwise tip top appearance.
“Two days? What day is today?” she blinked, tearing her gaze from the very image of despondence she was so drawn to and looked at him.
“It's Friday.”
“Friday...” she said slowly, understanding that she had been asleep or rather passed out for about 36 hours.
“Tell me, what's happened to you.”
With a broad gesture, Anaïs invited him into the devastated livingroom, briefly recalling her drunken antics and how she had almost destroyed the room, in desperation and rage.
It was not surprising of Victor to not have any kind of negative reaction to the mess that was her life, as she told him, in hiccups and sobs, what had happened to her the past week, because Victor was used to the worst things in life as president on the Catalan Foundation for the Most Unfortunate. And it was not surprising to Anaïs that he did not make any snotty comments of taking better care of her family business and better management of her destiny in general, as Victor had always understood her nature and had always backed her up no matter what she had managed to get herself into.
And it was not a shock at all, but more of a minor relief, when he told her he had the exact solution for her problems, seeing that he was the number 1 fixer in the country.
But it was surprising as hell when he grabbed her hand, and holding it close to his lips, much too close and suggesting an intimacy they had never really shared, he proposed her marriage as the sure thing that would get her on her out of the mess.
And Anaïs would think even over the years, that she should've known, that she should've sensed this was not a spring of the moment idea, but a carefully thought of plan, that had only waited for the right moment to be put into action.
But for the moment, she was too bewildered to say anything, her mouth ajar and her eyes wide and staring, staring without seeing the tenderness nestled in Victor's dark brown ones and the sly smile tugging at his lips.
So he went on to explain that if he just offered her the money - and of course, he did not find any impediment to not do so - there could always be issues with the bank and with the creditors and so many legal issues regarding the way she had obtained it, that not even the best lawyers would be able to get them out of it.
But if he married her and took care of things from the position of her husband, assuming legal obligations of a spouse, then they would be all in the clear and it could all be done swiftly, before the greediest creditor knocked at the door with the execution order in hand.
And he assured her, he promised her, that her life would continue as before, that she could keep her beloved house - and that was when a twinkle of understanding lit in Anaïs' eyes - and keep her brother at the prestigious boarding school and wouldn't even have to move in with him or little less act like husband and wife, or have relations.
She would be free in any sense of the word, as long as she allowed him to take care of things and she would just have to wear the platinum band he would put on her finger.
Victor had always been a speaker, a great one at that. And for the poor Anaïs, dizzy from lack of food for a pretty long while, his words were more than magic, compelling her into accepting the crazy offer.
“But what about you?” she finally asked, as she was moving towards the kitchen, feeling relieved and demonically hungry.
“What about me what?”
“We're best friends, but you're willingly tying yourself to me.....”
“The fundamental things apply, Anaïs. As they have always have. I want to help you and this is the only way. The best way. So, don't worry.”
That should've sent the alarm bells ringing, but at that moment, all her senses were focusing on devouring a sandwich she had just made, that tasted beyond delicious. So Anaïs nodded between bites and mentally began preparing her unforeseen wedding.
Rating: PG-13
Category: dramaz!!!
Characters: Anaïs Fernandez, Victor Valdes, Rafael Marquez, Kaka in a negative role aaaaaaand, a few surprises ;-))
Length: short story - 8 chaps
Warning: stemming from a dream, it's a little outrageous, ok.
Summary: the trademark Kitty spin of the classical love triangle.
Disclaimer: this is pretty much fiction.
Authors Notes: this is the birthday gift for my girl calypso_63 ! it was aweeesome meeting you hun and i hope it happens again. i'm happy i managed to write this, it was probs the oldest unfinished project in my fiction folder.
TWO
When everything is going so well, it's usually a sign that something very very wrong is about to happen.
Disaster stroke the very next week.
Anaïs was main shareholder of a sock factory (the other being her brother). The dividends helped her and her younger brother have a comfortable life after their parents died when Anaïs was 15 and her brother 9. Without being rich, she could afford designer clothes and to keep the nice house in Eixample they had inherited. And also, she could afford to send her brother to a prestigious boarding school in England.
While she had decided to not pursue higher education, and had not gone to University, she insisted that her little brother learned everything there was to learn. She loved him dearly, as the only remaining blood relative and she wanted the best for him.
Having enough money also meant she didn't have to get a proper job, so she worked for a glossy magazine, a tabloid actually. She was doing the fashion and society pages, submitting bi-weekly articles about various B-list parties she sometimes went to.
The job was a joke as the mag was rather trashy and cheap, so she never took it too seriously. It was pocket money and something to fill her time.
And so it happened that she was called to the board of directors meeting and they informed her that the factory was going into bankruptcy, that there was nothing to be done to prevent it, except for a huge cash injection, which was unlikely given Ms. Fernandez' savings.
They told her that selling the house she lived in and maybe getting a job, a real job, that would entitle her to get a large enough bank loan, would maybe salvage the situation. As each of the directors and managers left the spacious office, leaving Anaïs by herself, she understood she was going to lose everything she had, everything her parents had worked so hard for and that she had seemingly squandered away, like a spoiled brat.
She felt horrible, aware that she would now have to call her brother back and live a modest life and actually have to work, hard. She wasn't scared of that, but she hated that she would ruin her brother's dreams, that she would have failed him, her only remaining relative.
She sunk in a drunken disorder, pillaging her liquor cabinet and when two days later, she realised this was not helping her situation, nor getting her any money, she also found herself fired from the magazine, seeing that she had missed the deadline for her article and that nobody actually took her fashion advice seriously.
She was desperate to the highest degree and as she left the magazine's headquarters, she wandered the streets aimlessly, allowing her legs to carry her without much of her willpower involved. It was hours later that she found herself on the street she lived on and had to stop a little and weep at how much she was going to miss the only place she had called home, ever since she was born, once she sold it.
She walked up to her house and unlocking the door, she let herself inside, with a sense of remorse that was overwhelming. She collapsed on the couch, the tiredness of 5 hours' walking finally catching up with her and amid sobs and tears drying on her face, she fell into a deathlike slumber, hoping that she would wake up and everything would prove out to be just a bad dream.
She woke up at the startling and prolonged sound of the doorbell, the shrieking noise permeating her state of unconsciousness and pulling her out of the nearly comatose state she had succumbed to. Getting up from the couch, she dragged herself to the door and opened it with the shaky moves of a drunkard.
In front of her stood none other than her best friend, Victor Valdes.
“Wow Anaïs. You look like shit.” he greeted her.” the sarcasm in his voice drowned by a tinge of concern.
She mumbled something unintelligible and she retreated towards the inside of the house. In passing by the floorlength mirror, she caught her reflection and she let out a strangled noise, taking a step back to see herself.
Dried makeup smudged all over her face, eyes swollen and puffy red, her auburn hair looking like a family of birds made nest in it and generally a sickly air was what looked back at her, adorning a tight smile.
“What happened to you? I've been trying to get a hold of you for 2 days now.” Victor asked, without any other commentary on his friend's otherwise tip top appearance.
“Two days? What day is today?” she blinked, tearing her gaze from the very image of despondence she was so drawn to and looked at him.
“It's Friday.”
“Friday...” she said slowly, understanding that she had been asleep or rather passed out for about 36 hours.
“Tell me, what's happened to you.”
With a broad gesture, Anaïs invited him into the devastated livingroom, briefly recalling her drunken antics and how she had almost destroyed the room, in desperation and rage.
It was not surprising of Victor to not have any kind of negative reaction to the mess that was her life, as she told him, in hiccups and sobs, what had happened to her the past week, because Victor was used to the worst things in life as president on the Catalan Foundation for the Most Unfortunate. And it was not surprising to Anaïs that he did not make any snotty comments of taking better care of her family business and better management of her destiny in general, as Victor had always understood her nature and had always backed her up no matter what she had managed to get herself into.
And it was not a shock at all, but more of a minor relief, when he told her he had the exact solution for her problems, seeing that he was the number 1 fixer in the country.
But it was surprising as hell when he grabbed her hand, and holding it close to his lips, much too close and suggesting an intimacy they had never really shared, he proposed her marriage as the sure thing that would get her on her out of the mess.
And Anaïs would think even over the years, that she should've known, that she should've sensed this was not a spring of the moment idea, but a carefully thought of plan, that had only waited for the right moment to be put into action.
But for the moment, she was too bewildered to say anything, her mouth ajar and her eyes wide and staring, staring without seeing the tenderness nestled in Victor's dark brown ones and the sly smile tugging at his lips.
So he went on to explain that if he just offered her the money - and of course, he did not find any impediment to not do so - there could always be issues with the bank and with the creditors and so many legal issues regarding the way she had obtained it, that not even the best lawyers would be able to get them out of it.
But if he married her and took care of things from the position of her husband, assuming legal obligations of a spouse, then they would be all in the clear and it could all be done swiftly, before the greediest creditor knocked at the door with the execution order in hand.
And he assured her, he promised her, that her life would continue as before, that she could keep her beloved house - and that was when a twinkle of understanding lit in Anaïs' eyes - and keep her brother at the prestigious boarding school and wouldn't even have to move in with him or little less act like husband and wife, or have relations.
She would be free in any sense of the word, as long as she allowed him to take care of things and she would just have to wear the platinum band he would put on her finger.
Victor had always been a speaker, a great one at that. And for the poor Anaïs, dizzy from lack of food for a pretty long while, his words were more than magic, compelling her into accepting the crazy offer.
“But what about you?” she finally asked, as she was moving towards the kitchen, feeling relieved and demonically hungry.
“What about me what?”
“We're best friends, but you're willingly tying yourself to me.....”
“The fundamental things apply, Anaïs. As they have always have. I want to help you and this is the only way. The best way. So, don't worry.”
That should've sent the alarm bells ringing, but at that moment, all her senses were focusing on devouring a sandwich she had just made, that tasted beyond delicious. So Anaïs nodded between bites and mentally began preparing her unforeseen wedding.