Friday, July 8, 2011

How Deep Is Your Love?

<< Previous Chapter: Fallin'

Optional Soundtrack: How Deep Is Your Love by The Bee Gees
Content Warning: strong language and cleverly disguised nudity

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Ella walked back to her room after discovering Mark deserted her and noticed that their "money chest" had been pilfered. Mark had convinced her that in case of emergency, they should get ten thousand simoleans converted into Shang Simla currency and store it in a chest.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" she muttered to herself.

 She rushed over to the chest just to make sure, but her earlier assumption was correct; there was nothing left, not even a cent. "Shit. Shit shit shit. How could he do this to me?!" she swore, hitting the chest ferociously.

"Creator-fucking-damnit! I'll kill that man!"

"No, wait. Get a handle on yourself, Ella..." she whispered as she paced around the room. "Maybe he didn't rob you, but was kidnapped. Yeah, he was kidnapped! A-a-and the kidnapper took all of our fucking money! That sounds great."

She plunked down into the seat and began to whine. "Mark took it! All of it! That stupid asshole took it all." Ella sobbed into her sweaty palms, and said every Simlish swear under the sun. She began to wonder if what her mom said was true, that true love was impossible for Cartez women. Maybe she should have married wealthy and be done with it all.

After wallowing in self-pity for an hour, she took a long shower to clean all the sweat and grime off of her and cried herself to sleep.

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The next morning, she decided enough was enough; she was going to the tourism office to talk about Mark's disappearance. Her broken heart be damned; he stole her money. And everyone knows that you don't mess around with a socialite's wallet.

"Hi, my name is Ella. Could you help me sir?" she inquired, as politely as she could. She was still incredibly upset over what happened last night, and she would really rather be alone in her bed crying than talking to some dude in weird safari getup.

"Depends on your question, Miss." he flirted. She sent daggers through her eyes that caused him to straighten up his posture and clear his threat. "Ah-em, I mean, how can I help you Miss?"

"Thank you. There's a pale blonde man, just a little bit taller than me, running around this city somewhere." she explained. "Y'see, he took me with him on vacation as well as ten thousand simoleans worth of currency, and now he and the money are gone."

"We'll be sure to alert the local police ma'am, but there's no guarantee we'll catch him. What is his name?"

"His name is Mark Filroy."

The tourism officer quickly escorted her out of the room and outside, away from view of everyone else.

 "Okay, look. I don't know what game you're playing, but that name is forbidden here. Now, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"No, wait! I'm being serious! We were dating, a-and he brought me here. Why is his name forbidden?"

"You're not one for reading about international news, are you?" Ella shook her head in shame, and the officer began to explain. "Alright then. The last time Mark Filroy was here, he was kicked out of our country for raiding the valuable gems in Emperor Lau's tomb, kidnapping Empress Mii and holding her hostage for a six-figure ransom, and physically assaulted one of our officers when the warrant was out for his arrest. He did all this under the name 'Adam Fargrat' and had black hair. We're pretty sure he's got another criminal record back in his hometown, Riverview, but he bribed someone to clear his name before we could access them."

"Riverview? But Mark is from Twinbrook..." she said quietly.

"Twinbrook? Wow, he must have really done your head in, because that is definitely not a Twinbrook accent."

"I know," she pouted.

"Are you okay, ma'am?" he said softly. Ella stuck out her lip, attempting to hold back tears. "Yes, I'm fine. Can' you just - can you point me to the nearest airport? I'd really appreciate it."

"Anything. Do you mind if we get your contact info in case we need you? For legal reasons, of course." He was so plainly hitting on her that even blind Ella could see it, but she obliged anyway.

"Sure, whatever. I just need to get home as soon as possible."

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 "Hey, look who's home!" Jordan exclaimed after seeing Ella pull up to the street. She had called him beforehand to let him know that she was coming home early, but he thought that maybe Mark would have talked her into staying longer. "Not this this time, Cassanova." he joked to himself.

 "Sooo, how did everyone's favorite celebutante enjoy her Shang Simla vaca?" he asked mockingly. Ella's stagnant expression quickly started scrunching up and trying in vain to hold back tears.

"Whoa, shit. What happened, Ella?"

 Ella broke down in spastic sobs as Jordan held her and smoothed her hair; just like he did the first night she came here, when she was torn apart by her mother's death. Although it's been two months since that night, his warm embrace still felt as inviting as ever. "Jordy, I can't." she sobbed. "I can't do this again. I can't do this to Bonnie."

"I'm not asking you to," he whispered. "That night was a mistake, we've acknowledged that, and we can talk about it whenever you're ready. But for now, I'm just consoling a crying friend. Is that alright?" Ella laughed and nodded her head. "Yeah, that's fine." she sniffled.

"Great. Now, let's go get some juice in you. Then you can tell me all about whatever that douchebag did to you. Sound good?" He wiped a few stray tears from her cheeks and smiled up at her. She smiled back, albeit weakly, and nodded her head.

As she looked around, she noticed that someone was missing. "Where's Bonnie?"

"She's at Shooters for a girl's night out, she told me to give you a big hug for her and a welcome back kiss. Well, I added the kiss part, but..."

"Jordy!" she giggled. "You might want to lead me to the booze before trying anything."

"Right," he nodded.

"...and so that concludes the ridiculously long and pathetic story of how the love of my life conned me out of ten thousand simoleans and quite possibly my pearl earrings." she casually explained while taking another swig of her drink. An hour and five drinks later, she felt much better than before. Jordan didn't feel too shabby, either.

"Fuck, that's horrible!" he exclaimed, slurring slightly.

"Psh'yeahh, it's horrible! You're telling me? I had to live it! I cried all the way back, and managed to get two hugs from strangers because of it."

"Did you...did you really love him?" he asked, maybe a little too insecurely.

"I honestly don't know. I cared about him, yeah. I trusted him, definitely. But love? It's such a strong word. Right now, I need to focus less on strong words and more on strong drinks." Ella and Jordan both doubled-over from laughing and spilled a little bit of their drinks.

"So what's the dealio between you and Bonnie?" she asked.

"What 'dealio'? As far as I'm concerned, we're fine."

"Don't play dumb with me, shithead." she slurred. "You guys used to be glued at the hip, and now you guys are rarely ever seen together. I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who noticed."

"Well, maybe you haven't seen us together much because your head was too far up Mark's ass," he joked."

"Come on. Seriously, tell me! I told you my relationship fiasco, and now it's time for yours."

"Well, she's just been saying that I'm 'distant' an' shit, I dunno what to say to her anymore. We're starting to argue about stupid stuff, like laundry." he sighed and took another sip of his drink.

"Laundry? How the hell do you argue about laundry?"

"Well I like my clothes to smell one way, an' she likes'em to smell another way, so we juss...bicker, yanno?"

"No, I don't know. That'ss pathetic."

"Lookit you, you're shlurring all over the place." he laughed.

"Me? What about you?! You're shlurring waaay more."

"Hey, wanna skinny dip?"

"What? Are you crazy?" he laughed.

"No, but I'm drunk. Last one naked is a rotten egg!" she squealed. Ella darted towards the pool and threw off her clothes while a confused Jordan stared at her.

 "Lo-ser!" she yelled out, taunting him. "What are you, chicken?"

"Ah, dearie...you couldn't handle seeing my bug guns in all their glory," he said, admiring his arms. "Sorry."

"Liar!" She splashed him from the pool and started pulling on his boots. "C'moooonnn!"

 With a defeated sigh, Jordan began disrobing and cannonballed into the pool. "Better?" he asked sarcastically.

"Much. You have a cute butt."

"Yeah yeah yeah, I'm getting out now."

"Fine then, spoilsport!" she pouted. Ella attempted to climb out of the pool, but her grip was clumsy due to having four too many beverages. Jordan helped pull her up to safety.

After they put their clothes back on, they relaxed on the deck and looked at the stars.

"You know, I used to do this with Mark." Jordan groaned at the mention of his name. "You know, you should start letting go of him now."

"Yeah, I should huh? Maybe I should just snap my fingers and he'll disappear," she said jokingly.

"I'm just trying to help you out here, Elle. That man is no good."

"And you should know, right? After all, there's nothing morally questionable about skinny dipping with your girlfriend's sister." she replied.

"Ella, this is different, and you know it." he said sternly.

"Oh yeah? How so?"

Jordan rose to his feet and started pacing slightly. Unsure of what he was doing, Ella stood up as well. "It's different, because...it's different."

"Oh come on, I'm going to need a better explanation than that."

"It's different because he lied to you, stole money from you and committed crimes in various countries, whereas all I've ever wanted to do is be with you! That's how it's different." he admitted.

"Wow," she whispered breathlessly. "I...I..."

"Too fast?"

"Yeah," she laughed nervously. "I'm just now getting over Mark, and you're still with my sister...so this is definitely a little 'fast' for me. I think I just need to be single for awhile and sort some things out, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," he nodded. "And it's a little fast for me too, because I'm still in love with your sister. If she found out, she'd hate us both. Bonnie would be absolutely devastated." he frowned. "My poor Bon Bon..."

"I'm still capable of getting jealous, you know." she teased. "Well then, now you'll know how I felt while you were dating Mark."

And with one last kiss goodnight, they went to their respectful beds to sleep off the remainder of the juice intoxication, avoid the suspicion of Bonnie, and pretend the night never happened; just like the first night.

And once again, Ella had gotten herself in a sticky situation...one that could quite possibly get even stickier.

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Chapter commentary here.                                                  Next Chapter: Beautiful Thieves  >>

6 comments:

  1. Thank you! :) I love your downloads.

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  2. T___T Oh noooo... My god, Mark is seriously one messed up dude!! I can't believe he did so much and Michele never found out about it--he's seriously in deep... That's just crazy!

    And poor Ella--I honestly have such a love/hate feelings towards her, right now. She probably wouldn'tve gotten in this mess if she weren't so airheaded, but does that mean she deserved it? Probably not... And man. D: Jordy, you aren't heellpppinnngg...

    The web you're weaving is just getting more complex and chaotic, and I love it!! Fantastic, Cheezy! <3

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  3. Mark has major issues. As to what triggered these issues I'm not sure yet, but I'm sure he'll clue me in eventually.

    Yeee - that's exactly what I wanted! Ella isn't an easy character to love, but she isn't all that easy to hate either. She leaves a trail of lovers wherever she goes and hates being alone but at the same time, you can't help but feel for her every time she gets her heart broken.

    Thanks! :D I'm a big fan of webs. And it shall only get stickier.

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  4. Hmm, Ella really does need to be protected from herself in a way, her mother was quite right. To bounce from one guy to another dating her newly found sister... Not good.

    Great story - definitely.

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  5. Exactly. Just imagine the trouble she would have gotten in if she moved somewhere else, or stayed in Bridgeport. I shudder at the thought.

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