I Trust You

The Party

Hey Luvies,

Check out the image above.

-----------------------------------------

"Are you sure you're okay?" Vic asks, the smell of burnt pancakes wafting in Grace's kitchen.

"Yes, I am," Grace groans, tucking in her white shirt.

"Are you sure because John and I were so worried about you?" Vic says, her mouth pursed as she flips over the blackened pancakes. "We couldn't even sleep."

"I'm fine, I swear." Grace mumbles, her eyes on her the small kitchen mirror. "Just irritated because somebody decided to wake me up a whole 2 hours earlier."

Vic shoots her a playful glare as she lifts the pan and slides the two pancakes onto the plates with a loud clank.

"Is that sound normal?" She asks, poking the food with a fork. "I don't think that's normal."

"It's not and why did you cook?" Grace groans, holding the black hairpin between her lips. "You know you suck at it."

"Thanks, friend."

Grace rolls her eyes, a small smile on her lips.

"Where is John anyway?" Grace asks, unscrewing the jar of coconut oil and grabbing a handful before quickly smearing her hands together and slowly rubbing it up her hair; attempting to smooth down the rebelling hairs.

"You know him and his dumb meetings." Vic mumbles, her body behind the cupboard door. "We were eating my crumpets, you know the one I showed you on that cooking magazine, and out of nowhere he runs out saying he has some big, important meeting with some old guy from the finance department. He didn't even finish his food."

Grace snorts as she pushes in the last bobby pin on her head.

"Done." Grace says, placing her hand on her hips and posing for Vic. "How do I look?"

"You look work chic." Vic admires, her gaze flicking over her outfit.

"That's not a thing, I think."

"Well, you just made it one." She answers, popping open the apple syrup. "And I love the little poof."

"I like it too." Grace grins, playing with her small, curly ponytail.

Glancing at her wrist, Grace grimaces as she picks her bag off the counter.

"I'm so late." She rushes, walking towards her phone and sliding it into her Chanel bag.

"How do you know you're late? Mr. Hot Stuff didn't say you should be there at exactly 9a.m." Vic pouts.

"Yeah but I assume that they might need my help setting up..." Grace trails off, her tongue drying up as she eyes the black pancakes smeared with sticky syrup. "Mr.Hot stuff?"

"Yeah, it's my new name for him." Vic teases, leaning against the counter. "And I doubt they need help setting up a party that's meant for you?"

"Well," Grace nods, lifting her head up. "I think they do."

Vic glares at Grace before sighing and reaching for a lunchbox.

"At least take your breakfast to go."

"Oh, thanks." Grace groans, shifting uncomfortably as she takes the blue tupperware. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Yeah, see you!" Vic shouts.

Grace quickly shuts her apartment door before rushing off towards the elevator only to freeze and run back to her apartment. Pushing up her laptop bag, Grace whips open her front door.