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chapter seventeen. woman on the verge
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In our modern age, when you call someone and can't find them, you can pretty much be sure they'll get the message. But if they don't call you back, it usually means they don't wanna be found.
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VICTORIA HAD BEEN deeply thinking about the encounter she had with Anne Archibald. She didn't understand why it loomed over her mind so much. Maybe it had something to do with wanting to leave a good impression? But the thing was, the Humphrey had no idea what she had done so wrong to receive a cold greeting from the mother of the boy she particularly liked. What made her fearful was that Nate hadn't texted her since the encounter she experienced with his mother. Now, Victoria was fearful because she wasn't too sure if Anne had scared Nate off of her and he had suddenly felt it was for the better to keep his distance.
Those were the thoughts that plagued Victoria's mind, and she hated it. She was silly to have thought that with a new relationship it could possibly pass by smoothly, but instead it had suddenly felt like it was to end in a disaster like her last relationship with Carter Baizen.
The fear dedicated towards where her and Nate stood wasn't exactly ideal as she was to dedicate her Saturday to aiding her father and his band, Lincoln Hawk, with preparation of performing on television as part of Rolling Stone's Top Ten Bands Forgotten of the 90s. She was pleased to be his roadie once again, and she was more so excited to be granted the opportunity to watch it, as last time she had found herself missing it to rescue her little sister from Chuck Bass.
The moment her eyes fluttered open from her slumber that took her through the night, even with the anxiety of Nate Archibald playing on her mind, se was prepared to spend her day lugging around cases and bags in aide to her father. When she made herself presentable, knowing she wasn't going to have the opportunity to change before the start of the show, due to be streamed on television, she made sure her outfit was appropriate for the concert, too.
The dark green top with sheer tight sleeves hugged onto her petit figure and was tucked into the straight dark black jeans she wore. For the time being her shoes were off as she walked up and down the loft. She had been grabbing her father's collection of guitars, sitting them in her lap and tuning them whilst listening to her father debate what song was to be played before or after another.
Victoria donated her suggestions, and yet her father remained hesitant in following her thoughts, though he asked for her opinion. While strumming the strings of his guitar as Victoria tuned the other guitars, the door to Dan's room had swung open and the boy emerged. He didn't quite understand the collection of guitars sitting on the dining table, or the cables that were due to be plugged into the side of them.
