15th ♕

How did he get that? What else could he possibly know? The obvious was my life, of course. But why didn't he tell me what he had wanted? It had been over a week already, and I hadn't heard a word

 or two from that reporter.

"And the friendly picnic with the prime minister's son?" Bridge was asking.

"Is up this afternoon," I intuitively replied, absent-mindedly walking while having a quick briefing with Bridge. We were about to transfer locations and head to Central Park.

"Your phone is ringing," Bridge thoughtfully informed me.

"Oh," I said, checking my phone. "I'll just answer it. I'll be in the car in a few."

"Okay," Bridge replied, heading to the car first.

"So what's up?" I answered the call.

"Hey, Georgey," Pete greeted me on the other line.

"Hi there, it's nice hearing from you again. This is Georgiette. I'm very pleased to be your acquaint—"

"Knock it off," Pete said.

I laughed. "I was just rehearsing my usual lines. So why did you call?"

"So?"

"So?" I echoed back.

"Is there something going on? You know after the," Pete hushed his voice, "reporter."

"Ah," I muttered, hushing my voice as well. Jack was standing right behind me, so I walked a few steps away. "I haven't heard from him yet."

He breathed out in relief. "Well, that's good news, with regards to the present. That remains to be a bad news, with regards to what's ahead."

"I feel so lost right now."

"Then we have to meet later," Pete proposed.

"Maybe that's a good idea. If we finish early, I'll drop by," I replied.

"What's up with your busy day?"

"Do you happen to know a singer whose name is Helen?" I asked him. Bridge said that Elliot's girlfriend was a lead singer in a band.

"Of course!"

"Can you tell me who she is?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"I'm about to search for her face online. Bridge said that her band's famous. It's good to know some heads up before I meet her. But I don't have that much time, only fifteen minutes without traffic," I explained.

"You've seen her before," Pete told me.

"Really?" I shifted my phone to my other ear. "But she's probably not from our school."

"No," he answered. "She attended an elite high school."

"That's interesting. Art also attended one. I heard his best friend, the one called Elliot, was also from the same school. So putting two and two..." I said, thinking it over. "They must all have known each other from that elite high school."

"That must be the case."

"But seriously, where did I see her?" I quickly asked him, seeing that Bridge had already rolled down the window to check on me.

"Remember the movie poster I had in my room?"

"Which one?"

"Jessica."

"The one on the back of the door?"

"Yeah."

"That's her?"

"She was part of the cast."

"Should I get you an autograph?" I readily offered.

"It's fine. I've moved on," he said.

I laughed. "Oh, really?"

"I took down the poster after I entered college," Pete told me. "So that's Helen. Her middle name is Jessica. She uses that as her stage name."

"Are you sure you don't really want her autograph?" I asked.

"She's all in the past now," Pete said.

"Whatever you say," I replied. "Bridge's calling me. Are you going to be home all day?"

"No plans."

"Later." I hung up. Then turning to Jack, I asked, "Is she angry?"

"Currently," Jack answered, adjusting his sunglasses as he led me to the car.

The ride to Central Park was filled with Bridge's words—from her momentary anger to detailing today's agenda to some encouraging words in the end. I got used to it, as hers was the voice I usually heard lately. It sort of became the background music of my daily life.

Smiling to myself, I wondered how long this would last. And if this would be the last time Jack would open the car door for me and give me that smile.

The code between us.

Lenora had promised to dress me up all my life. She even said that if anything would go wrong, she'd gladly hire me as a model. According to her, it would be a waste not to use the face my father gave me, especially when she had finally made me wear her clothes. I told her that I would think about it, since it was still a job offer. I had to be practical; living my daily life was never easy.

And most of all, I started to feel that longing already. As Art and I locked eyes when I arrived at the picnic area, I felt that uneasy, gutted feeling in my stomach. Art extended his hand as I was near him. Accordingly, I'd find myself reaching out and taking his. No matter how tiresome and long a day could be, when I was holding his hand, for an unexplainable reason, everything felt right.

"So we're back here again," Art gladly informed me, as we were walking near the sprinklers.

"Well, it's a small town," I answered.

"I'm not sure about that," he said, with a shrug. "It's big enough for me."

"You always live in a big place."

"Maybe." Art was looking ahead, flashing a smile. "They're here."

Walking towards us, I saw Elliot, who was wearing casual clothes this time. The last time I saw him was at Art's birthday dinner. Elliot was wearing a pair of sunglasses, which accentuated the dark color of his hair. And as for the brunette he got in his arm, she looked so much more beautiful in person.

"Hi, there. George, right? I'm confused without the..." Elliot extended his hand to me.

"Ballgown?" I shook his hand.

"Yes, exactly," he said with a smile. "And I want you to meet my girlfriend, Helen."

Jessica. "Hi, Helen."

"It's very nice to meet you, George. Elliot kept on talking about you, saying that I should meet you and we would have gotten along," Helen said to me, giving me a friendly hug.

"It's nice to meet you, too," I said, unsure if I should pat her back while she was hugging me... or not.

As we were walking around the park, the dancing sprinklers suddenly came alive. Naturally, this had caught Helen's attention, and she was gushing over it. Elliot and Helen stopped from walking in order to watch it, together with some other spectators.

I impulsively looked away.

"I remember," Art leaned down and whispered in my ear.

"Shut up," I said in a low voice, elbowing him.

Art laughed.

Elliot was taking pictures of Helen, who posed beside the fountain. She said it was for her online followers. I remembered Bridge telling me to create an account online, but I'd declined. I mean, my phone couldn't even install applications in the first place.

Art tugged my hand, pointing to an empty bench nearby. "Let's sit over there."

I nodded.

There were a lot of people around. We weren't actually here to attract attention, but to just spend some time outside as a group of friends. Bridge agreed, as it was a great opportunity for me to meet Art's friends.

"How many interviews did you do this morning?" I asked Art.

"Fifteen," he replied. "You?"

"Close. Seventeen."

Art quirked an eyebrow. "I'm dating a celebrity."

"Stop teasing me, Your Highness," I said back. "Do you know how tired I feel lately? I'm using a pillow behind my back when I sit in the car."

"What are you, eighty?"

I laughed. "My back really hurts from sitting all the time."

"Hey, what are you two doing there? This is supposed to be a double date? Come on!" Elliot called our attention.

"Coming," Art shouted back.

We stood up and started walking over to them. The crowd started to gather around us. But somehow, I kept my gaze on Art. It was true that I'd been exhausted lately, but I always looked forward to the time we'd spend together.

"I will carry you if you're tired," Art told me, stopping on his tracks. For a moment, I actually thought he would suddenly lift me in his arms, but it was a tease.

Cautious, I moved a few steps away from him. "No, thanks. I'm fine."

Art stared in disbelief. "Are you actually afraid that I'll carry you in public, no?"

"Hardly."

"Come here." He started walking fast towards me.

"I'm fine! Seriously. Don't. I mean it. I'm not saying it just because. You know me, Art," I warned him. "I don't like the idea."

"Guys, quit running!" Elliot called us again.

We were already ahead of them. Running around, Art was trying to catch me. I kept on laughing as I ran away, without even knowing what was so funny about the situation.

But then, eventually, I ran out of places to escape and was too tired to run some more. Seventeen interviews this morning was really exhausting. Thankfully, when Art did catch me, he didn't carry me in his arms like he said. I seriously didn't want to be carried like that in public. With our arms loosely wrapped around each other, we only kept on laughing for a good while.

"Do you want a piggyback ride instead?" Art offered.

"No," I replied right away.

"I'm dating a weird girl," he said. I raised an eyebrow, feeling a bit offended. Taking it back, he added, "I was just joking. Come on, we'll just hold hands."

"Hold your own hand," I said back.

"You're cute. I can't believe I actually find your refusal to be very attractive." Art observed me.

"You're unbelievable," I said back.

"Aren't you touched? Don't I, even just a bit, affect you the same way I'm helplessly falling for you?" Art asked in a more serious tone.

I hesitated.

"You don't," Art deduced. With a sigh, he started walking away. "I'm going to bury myself somewhere, while you stay here and be your awesome self."

"Are you guilt tripping me? I can't believe this." I had no choice but to make it up to him somehow. Putting an arm around his, I said, "Does this make it better?"

"Hmm..."

"You're seriously making this hard for me," I said.

"It's a two-way street—love."

"No, this is a pathwalk."

"I mean, with this." Art pointed to both of us. "Love."

"Ah, right."

"Will I ever win you over? I'm starting to think that it's impossible to make you fall in love with me," Art told me, getting back to his usual self.

"You weren't trying," I replied. In truth, Art had no idea of the effect he had on me.

"I'll take that in mind," Art said. "I'll definitely try."

I caught a breath. "Yup."

"Where are they?" Art looked around, when he noticed that Elliot and Helen were nowhere to be found. "When did we lose them?"

"While we were running?" I suggested. "They'll never invite us again, for sure."

"Which is more I like it," Art replied.

"And why is that?"

He only shrugged his shoulders in response. "You only want me for yourself."

"Very funny. We're on a double date, remember?" I answered.

"Anything you want to do while we're at it?" he asked me. Nonchalantly, he suggested, "Do you want to teach them poker?"

"No," I said, leaning my head on his arm. I only had a few more stolen moments with him, and I wanted it to last. "I just want to stay like this. Just like this."

♔~♕

So we did lose Elliot and Helen for a good while, before they had finally found us. We ended up having lunch at the nearby restaurant, after the two had concluded that they should seclude us to some chairs in order to avoid running that much. We'd ended up playing board games at a café for the rest of the afternoon.

"And that's about it for today, George," Bridge finalized my schedule, after we came back to the palace.

"So I'm free to do whatever I want for the rest of the night?" I asked her.

"Maybe you'd like to have dinner with Art somewhere? I can fix that. We can use as much publicity as we can." Bridge looked at her planner.

"I already told him that I'd be eating somewhere else," I said, hoping that she would let me. "Lenora's place. I'll be back after dinner."

Bridge closed her planner. "Okay. But make sure to be back after. You know how the media's mind works. You don't want to lose your friend because of some silly news."

"Yes, that's the plan," I said.

"Be back without any surprises, okay? Don't stir any news while you're gone out there in the real world," Bridge reminded me.

"Got it." I was about to lift my thumb up, but hid it behind my back. "Nodding."

Bridge vaguely smiled. "I'm glad you're learning."

"The best is who teaches me," I told her. And I'd be always grateful. No matter what might happen. "Bye, Bridge."

♔~♕

As Jack was driving me to Pete's place, he cautiously asked, "What are you doing, Princess?"

"Nothing," I said, hiding the paper. My face flushed with embarrassment. I had insisted on sitting on the passenger seat, since there was only the two of us. Jack could easily glance to his side and see what I was doing.

Jack smiled. "Are you practicing?"

"For?" I asked, my voice got a little bit higher.

"I saw what you were writing over there, Princess," Jack continued saying.

"Jack, look, can we just forget it? And please don't tell anyone that I was shamefully writing his name out of nowhere."

"Georgiette Elise McAlden Chateaubriand," Jack considerately said out.

I covered my face with my hand. "Stop. Please."

"The name suits you, Princess."

So when we arrived at Pete's place, he quickly asked when he saw me, "Why is your face so red?"

And I had an answer for that. But instead of telling him, I asked, "What's for dinner?"

"Is there something I've missed in the news? Did you come here after confessing your love for Prince Arthur on national television?" Pete looked confused.

"Here's what." I shamefully handed to Pete the piece of paper that I'd crumpled inside the car. Turning to Jack, I said, "Jack, I'll be here for about two hours. You can wait in the car... or do yoga here in their yard."

"I'm on duty, Princess. I'll be on the watch," Jack said in response.

"Okay. Just don't tell Art about the paper," I told him.

"As you wish, Princess," Jack replied, ever so calmly.

"I know you talk to him all the time, but just not this one, please?" I said. He smiled at me, reassuringly. He motioned for me to go inside the house with Pete. I added, "Thanks. I'll sneak out less, I promise."

Right when we set foot on the house and the door shut close, Pete exclaimed, "You are so grade school! Were you seriously doodling this in the car?"

"You don't need to shout," I told him.

"We're the only ones here," he said. Regaining back his teasing tone and astonishment, he added, "You actually tried writing your name with his and you got this new signature?"

That was followed by a life worth of laughter.

"I'm mortified and you're laughing. Brilliant." I went straight to the kitchen, lifting the lids of what Pete was cooking. "White spaghetti?"

"Yeah, please get mine, too." Pete didn't take his eyes off the piece of paper.

"Are you going to read that all night?" I curiously asked him, as I was pouring the sauce to the pasta. I was very hungry that I couldn't help but take a bite right when my plate reached the table. Swallowing, I said, "This is good."

"I'm going to frame this, and we're going to laugh about this someday. I feel proud," Pete said.

"And you're not even my dad," I replied, digging a mouthful.

"So is this that?" Pete took a seat across from where I was, carefully placing the piece of paper at the other end of the table.

I admitted, "I think I'm starting to like him."

"This is very interesting. Tell me more about it." Pete moved his chair closer to me.

"I don't exactly know when it all started. But I feel different with him nowadays."

"And? What about him?"

"He said he likes me," I confessed. "Art's pretty expressive about it."

"Really?" Pete couldn't contain his happiness.

"This makes you so happy, doesn't it?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Of course! Come on, you don't fall in love like this every day."

"Yes, unfortunately, I'm likely the one not to fall in love," I said with a sigh.

"But now, look at you!" Pete told me, proudly. "So what's your plan now?"

"Not to fall in love, besides that?"

"You already are. You're going right straight to it," Pete indicated. He put down his fork, picking a more serious tone. "Let's set that aside for a while. What will you do about that reporter?"

I swallowed the last bite on my plate. "No idea. He got a trump card right there."

"And no brilliant counterattack for you."

"As you know."

"I'm sorry, Georgey," Pete comforted me.

"We both know this will come to an end sooner or later," I said, heaving a sigh. "I only wanted a temporary part-time job. This was the reason why I didn't want to lead him on. I really don't know what's wrong with me. Why couldn't I tell them the truth and left earlier on? Why did I let it get this far?"

"It's sad, because you're just about to be in love, too," Pete said, with a wry smile.

"I don't even want to admit that to myself. Because if I do and it feels real, then I don't know if I'll still be able to do the right thing," I faltered.

"Sometimes, the right thing conflicts with what we want," he answered.

"You know, when I'm around him, I'm happy. I never understood that dizzy feeling of euphoria they were all saying. I thought that was exaggerated," I went on, laughing as I felt tears filling the corners of my eyes. "And then, he came. I didn't know a person could make you so happy, make you miss him like crazy, or act dumb when you were around him. You're still unsure about a lot of things, but with him, it feels okay to get lost."

"It's going to be okay, Georgey." Pete got up and put his arms around me.

I held back the tears. "I know what I should do, but I don't know if I can still do it. I've selfishly come to like my place beside him."

"The choices are always hard, Georgey. I'm just here for you no matter what happens, no matter what you choose," Pete promised me.

"Thanks for always being around. You can take your arms off me, because I'm really hungry and I want to eat some more," I said, in a laughing tone. I felt like the sudden seriousness would consume me alive.

"I'm not used with you girls crying, but I'll try my best not to run away if you start having a breakdown."

"You can exclude me from that list," I said to him.

"Just in case, I'll secure a pack of tissue."

"Get lost." I laughed. "Where's Lenora, by the way? Working late?"

"Mom's working overtime tonight." Pete took care of the plates, putting them to the cabinet after drying.

"Is there an event?" I pulled the drawer under the sink and placed back the forks.

"I heard you're going to have a photoshoot next week. She's preparing your wardrobe," he said.

There was a long pause after.

"Will I last a week?" I quietly asked him.

"Not one of us could say," he answered.

I sighed. "That's that."

"I'm sure she can still put those clothes to good use later on if not," Pete said.

"Did I tell you that she had offered me a modeling job?" I told him.

"What can I say?" Pete said, with a shrug. "You've got a great experience."

"With everything they made me do, no wonder," I answered.

"You've got the best team, in fact," he indicated.

"I ended up in a good place, I must admit. Crazy," I said with a wide