It's Been Ages I Know! But here's- Jared, Chelsea and Felicia

Jared

At first, I thought the hammering on the door were African tribal drums. Random, I know but it was three thirty in the morning and I had been dreaming of beautiful African women.....uh, the dream’s unimportant. What is important are the people who were doing the banging on the door. It was a bedraggled, frightened Phoebe with Connor, who had his arm wrapped around her shoulders so tightly that it looked like he might be hurting her.

“What on Earth?” Maxine padded out of her room.

“What’s wrong, guys?” Phoebe looked like she was about to cry so Connor explained everything.

“So you shoved a marble statue out a window?” I asked, incredulously.

“When you say it like that it sounds idiotic.” Phoebe sniffled.

“And you’re a doctor.” I marvelled. But she looked really upset so I softened my tone. “We can’t leave him on the sidewalk.”

“Of course not.” Maxine scoffed. She laid a reassuring hand on Phoebe’s arm. “It’s okay, darling. We’ll all take care of it.”

Maxine and I quickly changed out of sleeping clothes. All four of us had to lift the statue of the mangled body. I shall spare the gory details but a word of advice, if you’re going to intentionally kill someone, don’t do it with a very heavy statue. Really, it’s just messy. Maxine and Connor seemed surprisingly adept at cleaning up...everything. Luckily for Phoebe and Connor, their window opened onto an alley so there were no passers by. We loaded Stefano and the statue into Connor’s van. Maxine and Connor seemed completely unperturbed by the dead man that was lying in the back. I couldn’t say that I mourned Stefano but he was another human being (no matter how hard that might have been to believe when he was alive) and his death was a tragic accident.

“Couldn’t we just tell someone?” Phoebe sniffled.

“No!” Connor said, sharply. He and Phoebe exchanged a look through the rear-view mirror.

“Sorry.” Phoebe mumbled, looking away. I glanced, quizzically at Phoebe’s turned head. She was staring intently out the window. We reached a deserted parkette that sat on a cliff looking over Lake Ontario.

“Perfect dumping spot.” Maxine crowed. “Come on, help me!” Phoebe was looking paler than the dead guy so Connor instructed her to stay in the car.

“I want to come out; I feel sick.” She said, shivering. I took my jacket off and wrapped it tight around her shoulders.

“Just tell us if you feel faint or anything.” She nodded, weakly. I hurried to the trunk where Maxine and Connor were trying to heave the statue into the garbage bag. Once it was in the bag, it was a matter of dragging it to the precipice without tearing the bag. Phoebe, seeing our struggle, pitched in and the four of us tottered to the edge of the cliff.

“On the count of three.” I said.

“One.” We swung the bag backward. “Two.” Moved it forward. “Three!” And let it fly. And fly it did. Right into the murky waters of the lake.

“How shallow is it here?” Connor suddenly asked.

“Oh, fuck.” We all groaned.

Twenty minutes later, Connor and I had slid to the bottom of the cliff. Maxine and Phoebe were watching, anxiously from the top of the cliff. Well, Phoebe was anxious; Maxine was just calling out unhelpful advice and cackling at our discomfiture. Wading into the water, we looked for the bag. Eventually, it was Connor that found it. Well, he didn’t really find it; he tripped on it and fell into the water. After I finished laughing and Connor had regained what little was left of his dignity, we lifted the bag and heaved it further. Satisfied that it had reached a depth where it wouldn’t be found, we began our slow trek to the shore.

Chelsea

“Wow, it feels weird actually taking you out on date.” Carson joked. I laughed.

“It feels different to be dating someone other than Colton.”

“Is it weird?”

“No.” I smiled at him. “Just different.” He returned my smile, reassured.

“Chelsea!” What on Earth?

“Kirk?”

“Carson!” Carson looked distinctly uncomfortable at the sudden appearance of Kirk.

“What are you doing here?” I snarled.

“What? Can’t a guy come to a fancy restaurant without being questioned?” He sat down at the table right beside us.

“Not when it’s the same restaurant as your best friend’s ex-girlfriend.”

“Ex-fiancée.” He corrected me. “Though not really ex, am I right?”

“Shut up, Kirk.” Carson looked at me funny. “You know what? I’m not that hungry anymore, Carson.”

“Okay, let’s go.” He said, warily.

“You didn’t tell him about the susp-” He didn’t get to finish his sentence because I flung my ice water in his face. I swung around to Carson and yanked him me, pressing my lips against his. Leaning back, I glanced at Kirk.

“Tell Colton about that.” With that, I flounced out of the restaurant.

Felicia

I was curled up in a ball on the couch. The house was empty, everyone having something better to do on a Friday night. I didn’t care. I worked so hard throughout the week that I was kind of glad that Neil wasn’t here, pawing at me. There was a marvellous chick flick on and I had a piping hot cup of soup. I had just settled myself in my blanket when someone knocked on the door.

“For fuck’s sake.” I grumbled. “People have the worst timing.” I padded over to the door and opened it. “Hi, Grant.”

“Hi, Felicia.”

“What’s up?” I gestured for him to follow me inside. He did, closing the door behind him.

“I was wondering. Is Adriana here?” I shot him a sly look.

“Why?” He shrugged, blushing.

“No reason.” I felt an inexplicable surge of anger at his innocent crush.

“Why do you like her? Like, honestly! She’s not beautiful. She’s certainly not nice. So what is it?” He looked rather surprised at my sudden outburst. “Sorry.” I mumbled, embarrassed.

“I don’t know what it is....”

“You don’t have to answer.” I said, apologetically. “I’m just so sick of seeing nice guys being crushed by her.” Grant was still thinking. “You want some wine?”

“Oh, I don’t drink.” I stared at him, incredulous.

“How do you survive?”

“Quite well, thanks.” He replied, earnestly. I looked at him, trying to figure out whether he was nuts or just plain stupid. He returned my gaze with sweet, gentle brown eyes. I shrugged and shuffled back to the couch.

“I think I like her-”

“Seriously, Grant. Don’t put so much thought into it; it was just an outburst.”

“But I want to answer.”

“Oh...then go ahead.”

“I like her because she makes me feel like the only man alive.” He said after a moment’s thought. Adriana did have a knack for doing that. Glancing at him again, I smiled a little.

“Well, Grant. I think you deserve to be with someone who believes with her whole heart that you are the only man alive for her.” He turned to me and smiled, brightly and my stomach twisted a little.

“Thank you, Felicia. That’s really nice.”

“Call me Felcy.” I mumbled, blushing. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

All's Fair in Love & Murder

Colton
“Is it a good idea? I mean, really? Tell me how you honestly feel, Jack.”

“This might the fourth time I’ve said it’s a bad idea. Just for clarification, you do know that bad means not good, right?”

“Your sarcasm is not appreciated.” I snapped at him.

“I’m dreadfully sorry to be offending you, Colton.” I sighed.

“Can you not utter a sentence without being sarcastic.”

“Of course I can. In fact, I just did.”

“You’re useless.”

“What do you want me to say? This is a great idea, Colton. I think you should forgive your cheating fiancée and promise to spend the rest of your life with a woman who wasn’t even faithful to you.” I threw my hands up in the air.

“For a best friend, you give me no support at all.” Jackson shrugged.

“Time to get a new best friend.” There was a gentle knock on the door.

“I’ll get it.” Preston hurtled towards the door. “Oh. It’s just you.” I heard him say.

“Thanks, Preston.” I recognized Chelsea’s voice and my heart began to pound. Jackson glanced at me.

“You okay, Colt? You look a little pale.”

“He’s white, Jack. He can’t get any paler.” Kirk interjected. Chelsea had entered the living room. I sprang to my feet, unable to tear my eyes away from her. Her black hair was tied into a messy ponytail and she was clothed in crumpled satin pyjamas. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she looked like she hadn’t slept for ages.

“Hey, Colton.” The room fell into an eerie silence. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the heads of Jackson, Preston, Kirk, Jamie and Cameron protruding over the couch as they watched us with baited breath.

“Hi, Chelsea.” She smiled, sadly.

“I’m really sorry.”

“I know.” Awkward pause.

“Maxine told me.”

“Oh.” Awkward pause.

“I need to talk to you about that.”

“Okay.” Another awkward pause.

“Look, Colton. I love you.” I smiled; no matter how many times I heard it, I loved hearing those words coming out of her mouth. “I love you a lot. I want to spend the rest of my life with you....I think.”

“You think?”

“I think so. And that’s the problem. I need to be completely and utterly sure that you are the
man I want to spend the rest of my life with. I mean, it’s the rest of my life. That’s a really long time.” She paused and her eyes glazed over. “A really long time....” She shook her head.

“What do you want then, Chelse?”

“I want....I want a suspended engagement.”

“A what?” The collective yell came from the men hiding behind the couch.

“A suspended engagement,” She continued, glaring at them, “means that we’ll see other people. So I—we--can figure out what we want or who we want.” I bit my lip. I knew what I wanted. I wanted her, a beautiful cottage, three children and a cat. I wanted to throw a tantrum. “Colton?
Say something!” She begged.

“I don’t know what to say, Chelsea.”

“Do you like the idea? Do you agree to it?” I sighed.

“I don’t like it but I do agree. I want you to marry me because you know in your heart that it’s what you want to do not what you have to do.” She smiled at me, which caused my vision to cloud and my heart to soar.

“Thank you, Colton.” She leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek.

“I love you, Chelsea.” She just smiled again. It was a smile tinged with sadness.

“I guess I love you too, Colt.”


Jackson
“Well, that was an interesting chain of events.” I said to the rest of the group. Colton looked rather depressed and despite my earlier annoyance with him, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the miserable bugger. “Cheer up, Colt. She’s not ending it. She’s postponing it.” I smiled in what I hoped was an encouraging manner. “It won’t be that bad.” He gave me a sour look and plopped down on the couch. So much for encouraging. The door opened and Phoebe and Maxine breezed in. Screw Colton and his problems; it was time for me to make my move.

“Hey, girls.”

“Just here for some food, Jackson. I know you guys keep all the junk. Sasha went on a cleaning spree and my precious stash of chips, dip and everything fatty went out with the trash.” Maxine said.

“I’m here because she made me come.” Phoebe said, shrugging. “I gave up fatty foods a long time ago.”

“Why? You don’t look like you need any sort of diet.” I said. Maxine snorted.

“Worst pick up line ever, Jack.” I glared at her.

“Good morning, one and all.” Adriana waltzed into the room. “Just thought I’d drop and say hi.” Phoebe faded as Adriana traipsed over and sat beside me.

“How’s it going, Jackson?”

“Good...fine...okay. Yeah. I’m good.”

“I’m glad you’re good.” She laughed girlishly and I smiled.

“Pathetic.” Maxine muttered. But Adriana was with me and that was all that really mattered, no matter what Maxine said.


Marshall
I felt rather despondent as I left my apartment with my soccer bag on my shoulder. My heart was heavy since Phoebe hadn’t acknowledged my present of flowers. I hadn’t even seen her. Every time I stepped into the hall I prayed that I would see her. Today, my prayers were answered as Phoebe strolled out of Jackson/Kirk/Preston/Jamie’s apartment.

“Phoebe!” I tried to keep the note of desperation out of my voice. She glanced up and smiled.

“Marshall.”

“Did you get my flowers?” She laughed.

“I did. I was very flattered by your thoughtful gesture. It really was too much. I’d have forgiven you anyway.” I shrugged.

“I didn’t only want your forgiveness.” I sent her a suggestive look to let her know that there were other things that I wanted. She flushed.

“Well, Grant doesn’t like you very much anymore.”

“Why?”

“He’s allergic to flowers; he’s been roaming around the house, sneezing and cursing. But I won’t throw such a sweet gesture out.”

“How about this? You throw those flowers out and then go out with me to make up for it.” She laughed and I smiled as charmingly as I could.

“Sounds like a perfect deal.”

“Great! I’ll pick you up around 7:30 on Friday?” Phoebe nodded and returned to her apartment while I floated down the hall in a state of supreme happiness.


Celeste
“I think we should drape orange and black streamers everywhere.” Maxine was rearranging photos on the counter.

“How can he be such an asshole? He hasn’t even apologized.” Maxine was completely ignoring me but I kept ranting. Kent was a fucking dickhead and I hated him. “Why did I even date him in the first place?”

“A question that I posed multiple times during your relationship; you always glared at me and stormed off. Now, what should I do for the draperies?” I sighed.

“Great help you are, Max.”

“What do you want me to do, Celeste? Coo over you? Embrace you and let you cry away the hours? The best you can do is to forget that whole dastardly relationship ever happened.” The doorbell pealed and I dragged myself to the door.

“Good mornin’, Ms. Ambridge.” Old Mr. History stood before me with a huge bouquet of flowers. Mr. History was an actual florist not like Adriana and her whores. “These are for you.”

“My, they’re beautiful.”

“They have a nice note too.” I gestured for him to enter the house. Maxine smiled at him as she poured him a glass of water. Mr. History was used to our house; he visited often.

“What does it say, Celeste?” I plucked the pink, flowery card out of the chrysanthemums.

“I’ll be your Prince Charming, if you’ll be my Cinderella.” I slammed the flowers on a table.

“That son of a bitch! He’s trying to seduce me!”

“Who?” Mr. History looked mighty confused.

“Kent. My ex-boyfriend! Like I’d go to the Masquerade Ball with him. I’m going to go tell him what a fucker he is. Then I’ll punch him.”

“Atta’girl!” Maxine cheered. “I’m so proud of her.” So with my ego inflated with Maxine’s encouragement, I marched down my hall and hammered on Kent’s apartment door. Alden answered.

“Hey, Celeste.”

“Where the hell is that son of a bitch?”

“Kent, door for you.” Alden replied by yelling into the apartment. Soon, my scumbag ex slithered to the door.

“Oh, hey, Celeste.”

“Don’t ‘Oh, hey, Celeste’ me, you ass. How could you send me those flowers? How could you even entertain the thought that I would have another romantic connection with you?”

“What flowers? What are you talking about? Are you using again?” I slapped him.

“I’m not high.”

“You sound like it.” He snapped, nursing his bruised cheek.

“Why’d you send those bloody flowers?”

“Look, why would I send them? I know you and your psychotic spasms.” I slapped him again.

“Fuck, bitch! Stop it!” I slapped him again.

“Don’t swear at me.”

“I’m sorry! Just stop slapping me.”

“Fine.”

“I didn’t send them.”

“Then who did?”

“How should I know?” I spun on my heel and walked back to my apartment. But if Kent didn’t send those flowers.....who did?


Connor
“That....thing really is ugly.” Phoebe grumbled, eyeing the Venus De Milo statue. “How could he have paid money for it?”

“I really don’t know.” I replied. “We have to get rid of it. I can’t bring people home and have
them see it sitting there. It looks like the centerpiece of a pimp’s house.” She smiled.

“We are all alone tonight.” Andre was out visiting his sister, Spike was sleeping on someone’s (we weren’t sure who) couch and Grant was asleep and nothing would be able to rouse him. “What if we threw it out the window?”

“What?” I cried. “Are you nuts?!”

“No. Think about it. It’s three in the morning; who would be out?”

“What do we tell Andre?”

“Someone broke in; it is a ‘beautiful’ piece of art, after all.”

“It’s a stupid idea.” Yet somehow, I found myself heaving a Venus de Milo statue through our living room window. Phoebe is an extremely convincing woman.

“Why is this so fucking heavy?” She grunted.

“I told you it was a bad idea.”

“Just shut up and lift.” With a final burst of energy, we shoved the infernal thing over the side.
Instead of hearing the satisfied crash of marble shattering, we heard a dull thud. Poking our heads out the window, we saw the mangled body of Stefano Degachi lying underneath it.

“Great idea, Phoebe. Now we’ll get arrested for homicide.”