Categories > Original > Fantasy > Queen of Aces
“Come onnnnn.” Raven begged from outside the hotel room.
“No.”
“D, come on. You can’t just blockade my mother out of the room all day.” Aden sighed, sitting on the kitchen counter a few feet away.
“Are you going to treat me like a dress-up doll and drag me all over Paris?” I asked as I sat against the locked, latched and blockaded door.
“…yes…” the tiny squeak came from the other side of the door.
“Then hell no.”
“Seriously, don’t you think you’re taking this just a little too far?” Aden stared questionably at all of the stacked furniture tumbling against the door.
“Was Hitler nice?”
“My mother is not Hitler.” He corrected me while hopping off the counter then walked over to the couch and flopped onto it. “You know she’s gonna get in eventually.”
I cringed. “Yeah, I’m well aware of that. I’m just trying to prolong it as long as possible.” Our eyes darted over to the door as we heard a key slide through the lock outside. The door pushed open, moving all the furniture away. I sighed then said the brilliant first last words that popped into my head. “Oh crap.”
“Please,” I begged Aden, “kill me now.”
“Sure. Just kill me first.” He squirmed uncomfortably in his tuxedo. “I can’t believe mom.” We stared at the bright ceiling strung with chandeliers. The room was filled with fanciful people and their fanciful talk in the fanciful mansion.
“I can.” I sighed at the long and frilly black strapless dress she had forced me into. “Hey, do you have a pocket knife on you?”
“No. Why?” He turned to stare at me suspiciously.
“No reason.” I smiled and walked into the restroom.
I walked out of the restroom moments later and the crowd gasped and stared at me. Whispers echoed throughout the room. Different peoples faces twisted into different looks: shocked, approving, disgusted, pleased. Raven hid her devilish grin. Aden just stood there; giving me a What-the-hell look then proceeded to ask me, “What the hell?”
“I hate fanciful dresses.” I shrugged, and waltzed through the crowd.
“So you shredded it?” He stared disbelievingly as he followed me through the room.
“What, you don’t like it?” I glanced down at the shredded gown flowing gently as I turned a corner.
“…I can’t believe you.” He laughed.
“Sometimes I don’t either.” I beamed then plopped down on a fluffy looking couch. “But at least now I can move.”
“What exactly did you use to shred that?”
“A mirror.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I don’t think anyone should go into that bathroom for a while.”
“You broke a mirror?!”
“Yeah. So?”
“This is the house of one of the richest people in France!”
“Well, it was that or use your pocketknife.”
“I didn’t have one!”
“Precisely.”
“No.”
“D, come on. You can’t just blockade my mother out of the room all day.” Aden sighed, sitting on the kitchen counter a few feet away.
“Are you going to treat me like a dress-up doll and drag me all over Paris?” I asked as I sat against the locked, latched and blockaded door.
“…yes…” the tiny squeak came from the other side of the door.
“Then hell no.”
“Seriously, don’t you think you’re taking this just a little too far?” Aden stared questionably at all of the stacked furniture tumbling against the door.
“Was Hitler nice?”
“My mother is not Hitler.” He corrected me while hopping off the counter then walked over to the couch and flopped onto it. “You know she’s gonna get in eventually.”
I cringed. “Yeah, I’m well aware of that. I’m just trying to prolong it as long as possible.” Our eyes darted over to the door as we heard a key slide through the lock outside. The door pushed open, moving all the furniture away. I sighed then said the brilliant first last words that popped into my head. “Oh crap.”
“Please,” I begged Aden, “kill me now.”
“Sure. Just kill me first.” He squirmed uncomfortably in his tuxedo. “I can’t believe mom.” We stared at the bright ceiling strung with chandeliers. The room was filled with fanciful people and their fanciful talk in the fanciful mansion.
“I can.” I sighed at the long and frilly black strapless dress she had forced me into. “Hey, do you have a pocket knife on you?”
“No. Why?” He turned to stare at me suspiciously.
“No reason.” I smiled and walked into the restroom.
I walked out of the restroom moments later and the crowd gasped and stared at me. Whispers echoed throughout the room. Different peoples faces twisted into different looks: shocked, approving, disgusted, pleased. Raven hid her devilish grin. Aden just stood there; giving me a What-the-hell look then proceeded to ask me, “What the hell?”
“I hate fanciful dresses.” I shrugged, and waltzed through the crowd.
“So you shredded it?” He stared disbelievingly as he followed me through the room.
“What, you don’t like it?” I glanced down at the shredded gown flowing gently as I turned a corner.
“…I can’t believe you.” He laughed.
“Sometimes I don’t either.” I beamed then plopped down on a fluffy looking couch. “But at least now I can move.”
“What exactly did you use to shred that?”
“A mirror.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I don’t think anyone should go into that bathroom for a while.”
“You broke a mirror?!”
“Yeah. So?”
“This is the house of one of the richest people in France!”
“Well, it was that or use your pocketknife.”
“I didn’t have one!”
“Precisely.”
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