In The Unlikely Event [updates begin may 3]

04 | cinderella

a/n i swear roman is coming. i'm just setting him up perfectly for y'all. he's coming. vote, comment, follow and all the fun stuff still. in the meantime, however, enjoy tamara's and addy's friendship. <3

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"Emergency," Tamara said once I finally picked up her third call in the past 20 minutes. My head was buried, quite literally, inside my Advanced Function textbook stained with tears and maybe--definitely-- snot.

I snivelled. "Yeah?"

"I need your help to--" she stopped, and I heard the sewing machine whirring in the background also stop. "Are you okay? What happened? Why are you crying?"

I lifted my head off my textbook, wiping at the remnants of tears that streaked down my face. "I was. But I'm better now. I just--it was building up, and I needed a good cry." I wiped away a stray tear. "What up, though? You said emergency."

The sewing machine started up again. "I don't believe you, but I'ma let it slide because the dress is not puffy enough."

"Not....puffy enough?"

"Mhm," she agreed, "I'm making Cinderella's dress as my project for my Fashion Design class, and the dress is disgustingly flat. The sleeves for the shoulders are slipping past the shoulders so, it looks like she's flashing everyone her tits when she enters the ballroom." The sewing machine stopped again. Then it started back up. I waited on the phone, listening to the humming of the sewing machine in the background before it stopped again. She sighed into the phone. "I need to restart the dress. The sleeves are just...the skirt will never work with the corset. But maybe if I nipped this...took a little off the sides....no, that will never work. I just...."

She was trailing off with her thoughts. "You need me to come over?"

"Maybe I could bring my Advanced Functions textbook, and we could have a crying party."

"No. I'm gonna scrap this. I need you to come and shop for fabrics with me."

I exhaled dramatically. "Yes, I'll be your voice of reason. Give me 30 minutes." I ended the call and gathered my stacks of notes and my textbook that decorated the dining table. My legs stiff, I stretched out my body before making my way up the stairs. Past the stairs, my parents' room and Aunt Yvonne and Uncle Jayson's shared bedroom, the smell of fresh paint and soft murmurs drifted out of my room at the end of the short hallway.

I walked into my room to meet the onslaughter of different shades of bright pink painted on the wall that clashed, aggressively, with my bright orange wallpaper. Parts of the wallpaper, torn off the wall, littered the floor. In the corner of the room, the boxes for the crib sat unopened. Aunt Yvonne sat perched atop my bed, her legs crossed underneath her. She noticed me first at the threshold of my bedroom.

"Addy." She picked up two slips of paper painted with two shades of pink that looked distinctively similar. Uncle Jayson turned around to face me at the call of my name. "Which pink do you think is better?"

I moved into the room, collecting the papers from her hand. I strained my eyes against the colour, trying to pick up on the difference she clearly saw. "Um...they both kinda look the same to me?"

She snatched the papers from my hand and pointed to Uncle Jayson and I. "Y'all are literally the worst at decorating a nursery." She pulled away at her bottom lips and furrowed her brows.

"It's not a nursery yet. It's still my room," I murmured.

She continued without acknowledging my words. "French Rose is the obvious choice." She looked up at her husband. "Right, babe?"