My Online Cinderella

Ella

The next morning brought in no new news of Kit's mystery lady. That fueled up his determination. He left home at the crack of dawn and boarded the first train to Yorkshire. His heart was literally jumping in his throat. He was going after a girl he knew nothing about, but his gut instincts told him that whoever it was on the other end of that Instagram handle really needed help.

As the cool morning air blew on his face, Kit imagined himself riding on a horse, galloping over the hills and rescuing his Cinderella, sweeping her up into his arms. He slapped himself awake from his daydreams. His Cinderella might not even want to talk to him in real life, let alone be swept into his arms.

After an agonizing wait of three hours and a hundred something missed calls, Kit alighted at Yorkshire and flagged down a taxi. As the taxi bumped along the cobbled roads and passed busy chattering market streets, Kit was trying to form a mental image of his Cinderella. Honey golden hair and beautiful blue eyes, dressed in simple jeans and tee, hair tied into a messy bun...the taxi skidded to a halt.

He handed the money to the cab and turned around. He was facing a row of Victorian terraced houses with brick-lined walls and tiled roofs. It was an empty cobbled street, and each house looked almost the same, like a stash of cards. There was a rustic feel to the entire place. This heightened the fairytale expectations of him.

He studied the brass number plates and stopped at 105. He knocked lightly on the door and immediately straightened his coat and adjusted his hair.

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The door screeched open, and a face peeped out of the dark. Kit was suddenly lost in a pair of beautiful sea-green eyes with the texture of mighty waves that sparkled with the morning sun hitting it.

"May I help you?" A voice asked unsurely.

"Ah, yes I..." Kit stammered. All the carefully built up speeches in his head got jumbled up. The person opened the door wider and stepped out into the light. He was a guy about Kit's age in checkered flannel pyjamas. A mop of tousled blond hair sat on his head like a bird's nest. And Kit stared unabashedly at him.

"Beautiful," Kit said to himself, remembering the conversation with his dream girl again. "He's what you call a beautiful man."

The guy gave a small amused smile and Kit's face flamed anew and his heart started racing faster than it would have if one of his secretaries were standing in front of me with exposed cleavage.

"You must be the stepbrother," Kit said unsurely, holding out his hand. "I am Kit Silverstein."

The young man raised his eyebrows but shook his hand warmly. "Ell..." he paused, as if debating whether to reveal his name to a stranger. "Eleanor, you can call me Eleanor."

"Well, Eleanor, is your sister at home?" Kit asked, trying to peer over his shoulders.

"Stepsister precisely, but how do you know her?" he asked.

"Long history," Kit breathed, "Can I meet her, please?"

Eleanor narrowed his eyes at him.

"Ana...there's a Kit here to meet you..." he called into the house.

"Who is Kit?" A girl with coppery curls and a freckled face came and stood beside Eleanor. Then she narrowed her eyes at her stepbrother. "What are you doing here? Didn't mum tell you to stay in and not to talk to anyone? We have a reputation to keep."

"I...umm." Dark grey clouds started fogging Eleanor's breathtaking eyes.

"Actually, I called him out. I didn't mean to inconvenience anyone." Kit glanced between the siblings, suddenly wondering if that rude sister was the one who had spoken to him that night. Identifying true faces online was a monstrous job.

"So nice to finally meet the girl in the glass slippers." Kit tried a warm smile. Ana frowned. Kit shot a glance at Eleanor, who was staring at him unblinkingly as if he had seen a ghost.

"Here's another of those loonies that don't know what they are doing." Ana rolled her eyes. "Listen here, mister. I am Anastasia and I have no darn idea whom you are talking about."

"But I am the clicking prince. You don't remember?" Kit protested. Eleanor shifted slightly.

"No, I don't. And you better leave before I call the cops..."

"What is going on here?" The coarse voice of a lady made Kit jumped. A lady in a deep green dressing gown promptly grabbed Eleanor and roughly pushed him back.

"I told you not to come out of your room," she hissed at him. Eleanor shot a strange, emotionless look at Kit before retreating.

"I am Tremaine Hoover. May I help you, sir?" Her voice was suddenly honey and gold.

"This is a loony talking about some girl in glass slippers," Anastasia spat,

Tremaine's eyebrows frowned. Kit could see recognition dawning in her eyes. But she quickly put on a neutral mask.

"I'm sorry, you've got the wrong address," she said politely, "Now if you'll excuse us."

"But..." Kit's words were drowned out as the door slammed in his face. He stood spellbound for a second, staring at the closed door, wondering what just happened. His mind churned over the conversations of the earlier night. Where had he gone wrong?

Something hit his head and rolled on the pavement. It was a rolled-up piece of paper. He looked up quickly to find a blond head disappear and the window being shut quickly.

Still dazed, Kit picked up the crumpled paper and smoothened it.

A few words were scribbled on it.

@thegirlinglassslippers

Password- imella101

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