A Red Queen Black Friday

Time is of the Essence

Well people! Here is the fanfic that has been in the works for about two weeks! Thank you for all of your suggestions and support, as always. Ya'll know that I love your comments, so let me know what you think of this. I am debating whether or not I should start a one-shot book that would just include snippets of the Barrows' domesticated life. (eg more Bree/Tramy bullying Cal, fluff between various characters, vacations, home improvement, cooking lessons . . . I'm rattling things off. Let me know in the comments.)

A shout-out to @maraudersreject for being an amazing editor and taking the time this week to help me clean up A Red Queen Black Friday. As always, you are cherished by me. <3

I hope that despite the crazy year we're having, you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving weekend.

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"Time is of the essence."

My feet, clad in red and white-striped socks that I would usually call uncharacteristic of myself, pad from one side of the kitchen counter to the other. I can't help the grin on my face as I look out over my friends and family who all stand or sit around our near-empty living room.

The Barrows' newly-purchased, two-million-dollar house out on Long Island is a miracle in more ways than one.

In the end, I signed the Calore Dance Academy's contract. In exchange for ten years of my service, I'll be receiving three-hundred-thousand dollars a year plus a two-and-half-million-dollar bonus that came in advance. It might at first have felt like selling my soul to the devil, but over time, I realized that it was a better offer than I could've gotten at the American Ballet Theatre or the New York City Ballet. And besides, I get to dance with Cal every day.

But perhaps the crazier, most unbelievable half of the story is that my family of seven people, plus Kilorn, managed to agree upon a house to buy.

Bree and Tramy ended up being pickier than I ever imagined they would be. After living together in the same tiny bedroom together for years on end, they demanded that they each have their own room equipped with a bathroom. Mom pretended not to be particular about anything, but in the end, she showed her passive-aggressive side and demanded a fancy fridge in a kitchen that looked out on a big living room with lots of windows. Dad's only request, to my relief, was agreeing with Mom and saying he wanted a big living room with lots of windows. Gisa, on the other hand, was the worst of them all, dictating that she needed a special room for her seamstress work, a walk-in closet, and a balcony. And Kilorn, despite not actually being related to us, told me he wouldn't live with us unless there was a pool to swim in.

In response, I told him that he was a child and I didn't care if he lived with us anyway.

Still, Kilorn got his pool. Gisa, to her eternal dismay, didn't get her balcony. She was hardly about to argue about that though.

Our new house is on a quiet road that's just a few miles and a couple of turns from one of Long Island's bigger towns. There are plenty of other houses around, but each has a big-enough lawn so that they're not too close for comfort. Half a dozen of our neighbors, exactly the kind of suburban preppy people we were expecting, have already trekked over our circular driveway with gift baskets; Bree and Tramy, meanwhile, are already concocting schemes to mess with their white-picket-fence style lives.

The three-story house itself is a beautiful thing that Mom swoons over every time she sees it. Its siding is this pretty shade of pale green, which will mesh perfectly with the big trees and grass of our property in the summertime. It has a big porch and floor-to-ceiling windows, just like my parents wanted. Inside, among cream-colored walls and polished-wood, wait two living rooms with fireplaces, a dining room that looks out onto the street, and a kitchen. A mudroom, a laundry room, and a big empty room that we have yet to figure out what to do with are also around on the first floor.