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World's Finest Writer's Corner BB: Tables Turning (C)

Discussion in 'The Story Board' started by SilentBat18, Mar 18, 2012.

  1. SilentBat18

    SilentBat18 Hmm, so, yeah

    Jun 23, 2006
    Likes Received:
    ****So this little snippet has been playing in my head for the past few weeks, and i've decided to finally get it down on paper. My gut has forced me to post it even though i think it may be a little too premature. But, what the hay, i got nothing to lose. Those rooting for a Ter and Jazz pairing might like this and hate me for it ;)****

    Terry is greeted with the sound of soft muttering as he enters the cave. Raising a brow, he learns the unintelligible murmuring is originating from the behind the console, giving him no choice but to follow it. Finding Jazz is the one seated on the plush chair, he watches her scroll through pictures of dresses displayed on the monitor. He leans an arm against the back of the chair, while his eyes study the silky, sparkly, or flowing dresses that go by. She clicks on one to zoom in before muttering to herself, closing the window, and continuing with her search.

    “What about that one?” Terry suddenly asks pointing to a blue, strapless dress.

    “I don’t like blue,” Jazz replies.

    “What’s it for anyway?”

    “Henry has to go to this charity ball the hospital is holding and I’m his date. I need a dress for Saturday night,” she explains, clicking on a teal and white one. Scrunching her face with dislike, she closes the window and moves on.

    “Don’t have something in the closet you can throw on?”

    She raises a suggestive brow at him before returning to the search. “Why do you enjoy patronizing me?”

    “It’s entertaining,” Terry replies with a smirk. “So, what are you looking for anyway?”

    “I don’t know; I’ve never been to a charity ball before,” she sighs. “Henry picked that one,” she says pointing at a red halter-top dress, “but I don’t like it. I’ve been at this for hours with no luck,” she groans, irritably swiping her hand across the track pad and sending the dresses shooting by. “I’m giving up. Screw this whole ball crap; I’m giving Henry the green light for finding some other date.”

    “I wouldn’t do that,” Terry warns as he moves to lean on the console instead. With the track pad within reach, he absent-mindedly continues the search. “Giving some other woman the opportunity to glam up and go out with your guy is the big no-no chicks constantly yack about.” He senses the suspicious look she’s shooting his way. “I hung out with a lot of girls in high school,” he goes on to explain.

    “I trust Henry.”

    “It’s the girl you should be worried about; despite what they say, it’s the woman who tends to put the moves on. Just ask Angelina Jolie.” Jazz rolls her eyes at him. “What about this one?” Terry suddenly asks, clicking on the image.

    What comes up is a chiffon, floor-length dress in a deep shade of purple that swoons elegance. A simple boatneck collar and sleeveless design make it look simple enough, but the plunging back give it the touch of something unforgettable. It’s a dress that befits Jazz’s simple yet dramatic character, making her smile.

    “Wouldn’t you know it,” she says, taking over the mouse and starting the checking out process. “I actually have shoes to go with that.”

    “That so?” Terry quips as he moves away, giving Jazz a chance to finish the transaction.


    “S***, s***, s***, s***, s***,” Jazz curses under her breath as she rummages through her backpack for the third time.

    She promised to meet Henry at the ball by eight o’clock, but unless she can find her phone in the next two seconds, she’s going to be late. She would warn Henry of the delay, but that requires the phone she can’t find. Besides, the address is saved on her phone; so even if she wanted to leave without the damn gadget, she wouldn’t know how to get there.

    “Who the hell thought of the brilliant idea to combine everything into one freakin’ piece of technology anyway?!” Jazz maddeningly asks herself as she impatiently begins searching the study’s desk drawers.

    “People who like convenience,” Terry’s voice answers, making her stop and look up to find him standing in the doorway.

    “Woah,” she quietly gasps when she discovers the young man dressed in a tuxedo and dark hair slicked back to reveal his piercing blue eyes.

    She can’t help but slowly run her eyes over the handsome man casually standing across the room with hands stuffed in his pockets and an amused brow raised at the way her jaw hangs. It’s hard not to notice or even appreciate how well he fits in the suit, the way he stands tall and comfortable in his own skin, or the alert yet docile eyes that seem to focus solely on the person staring into them, as though casting a mesmerizing spell. A tiny flutter in her stomach brings Jazz back to life, reminding her to shut her mouth and stop staring at her partner with wide, cartoon like eyes.

    “Thought you had that charity thing,” he starts once she snaps out of the trance.

    “Uh, yeah,” she stutters, before continuing her search through the drawers. “I lost my phone, and I can’t leave without it,” she explains, keeping her eyes glued on anything that isn’t Terry.

    Moving his gaze away from the woman dressed in the flowing purple gown, he scans the room quietly trying to guess where she might have misplaced the phone. He notices a stack of textbooks sitting on the couch, one in particular catches his attention. Moving towards it, he pushes one textbook away and opens the next one to find the sleek phone wedged between the pages.

    “Found it,” he announces picking it up.

    Relief washes away the anxiety from her face as she hurries to his side. “Thank God,” she breathes. “I owe you one, McGinnis,” she says, taking the phone and quickly typing away a message that would reassure Henry that she’s on her way.

    After noticing the time, the sense of urgency returns and forces her to search the floor for the silver heels she tossed when she was looking for her phone.

    “You okay?” Terry asks as his frazzled friend bends over behind the desk.

    “I am so late; it’s going to take forever for me to get across town at this hour,” she explains, picking up a purple bejeweled clutch and stuffing keys, cards, and lipstick in it.

    “I’ll drive you,” Terry offers, watching her fumbling to undo the shoes’ straps.

    “What? No, you don’t have to; besides aren’t you going somewhere?” She asks, her eyes darting between him and the shoes.

    “Actually, Bruce and I just came back from some fundraiser ballet thing, so I’m done for the night. Come on,” he invites, pulling his keys out of a pocket and leading the way to his car. Looking up at the ceiling, Jazz whispers a very grateful thank you before following him out.

    After climbing in and making sure her dress isn’t hanging out, Jazz closes the door and clicks her seatbelt on. “Now I owe you two,” she says as Terry takes off.

    “Three if you count the dress. So where am I going?” He asks as they leave the manor’s gates.

    After reading the address off to him, Jazz flips the visor down and studies herself in the tiny mirror. She uses her fingers to sweep her bangs to one side and fix any flyaways that were loosened from the delicate French twist her hair is set in. She never notices Terry’s eyes flitting back and forth between the road and her primping hands.

    “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this nervous,” he starts.

    “It took me a freaking hour to figure out this stupid French twist crap,” Jazz irritably replies. Finally satisfied with her hair, she flips the visor back up and focuses on getting her feet in her strappy shoes. “You know I hate getting all glammed up.”

    “Worth it, though,” Terry compliments with a smirk that takes Jazz momentarily by surprise.

    With her shoes finally on and everything in place, she draws a breath to calm herself. “You mind?” She asks pointing at the radio. Terry shakes his head, so she proceeds to scan the stations until she lands on one she likes. Turning to watch the buildings go by, she starts humming along to the song playing in an attempt to get her mind off of things.

    “So,” Terry starts, bringing Jazz’s attention back, “how come Henry didn’t pick you up?”

    “His shift ended right before the ball started, so he didn’t have the time. How come you didn’t tell me about the ballet thing you went to tonight?”

    “Slipped my mind,” he shrugs. “Besides, wasn’t that important; Bruce has to go to charities like it ten times a month.”

    “You’ve never looked this spiffy before, though.”

    A bashful grin spreads on his face. “I was invited this time, so dropping Bruce off and reading a book in the car was out of the question.”

    “Wait, invited?” Jazz asks, raising a brow.

    “Got the e-vite to prove it. Press is getting wind of Bruce handing over the company to someone new, and given I’ve been around him all these years, I guess they figure I’m the one.”

    A moment of silence passes before curiosity finally forces Jazz to ask, “well, are you?”

    Terry looks over at her for a second before bringing his attention back to the road.
    “Maybe,” he shrugs. “Nothing’s been discussed yet.”

    “Yeah, but I mean, you’re expecting it, aren’t you?”

    Terry knows Jazz is right; why else would he allow endless classes of finance and economics to beat him up every semester? But he and Bruce haven’t officially talked about it yet. He knows Batman depends on the money and technology from Wayne Corps, but with Bruce around, he’s never given the takeover much thought, not to mention the subject is too morbid to wonder about.

    So he shrugs in reply. Jazz notices his hesitation and goes on to say, “sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. I was just curious.” An awkward blanket of silence stitched with radio commercials surrounds them, making Jazz uncomfortable and fidget with her dress. “You know,” she suddenly starts, “I’ve never been to a ballet before.”

    The random comment lightens Terry’s face again. “I learned the definition of tough isn’t punching Jokerz every night; it’s dancing on the tips of your toes.”

    “I take it you liked the show?”

    “No, boring as hell, but I appreciated the athleticism.” He sees a smile spread on her face. “If you want, I can take you to one sometime.”

    “Nah, I’d feel bad about putting you through something you don’t like.”

    “You put me through the flexibility training I hate,” he counters with a raised brow, making her scoff with laughter. “Besides, I’d rather take you to a ballet than do a dozen reps of handstand splits.”

    “Not sure if I appreciate that,” Jazz quips, “but I’ll take you up on the offer.”

    “Glad to hear it,” he replies, exiting off the highway and driving up to the hotel where the charity is being held.

    “Thanks, Ter,” she says with warm eyes gazing at the young man beside her, trying to preserve the image of Terry’s smiling profile looking poised yet comfortable as he parks the car by the entrance. He turns to meet her eyes and nods towards the entrance.

    “The ball awaits, your highness,” he teases, making her roll her eyes.
    She groans as she reaches for the door handle. “I’ll call if I need to be rescued,” she says before stepping out.

    He fails at wiping the grin off his face as he watches her walk to the revolving door, not to mention keeping himself from appreciating how the dress exposes her creamy, toned back down to the slight curve before flowing with every sway of her step. After she disappears into the building, Terry breathes a sigh as he undoes the bowtie, and tries to stop himself from hoping to get another chance to choose a dress for her.


    Her shoe straps hang on two fingers while a small twist of chiffon fills her other hand, gently lifting the dress as Jazz makes her way to her living room window. She sets the shoes down on the sill and opens the window to let the cool night breeze blow through the few strands of hair hanging around her shoulders. With a sigh, she leans a hip against the ledge and starts loosening her short wavy hair, ruffling her bangs so they lay back in place shading her eyes. She rests hands on the sill and leans against them as she turns her eyes up to the moonlit sky. It’s too bright to spot any stars in the city, but she’s just as content staring at the full moon hanging in nature’s indigo ceiling.

    She’s glad she no longer has to teeter around in heels as Henry shows her off to colleagues, or try to charm his attendings whenever they were introduced; being a socialite is not a life she’d fit into, a fact she’s happy to accept. She closes her eyes as a stronger breeze tousles her hair before opening them a second later to find a familiar shadow flying across the sky.

    She watches it glide behind a building, losing sight and the small smile that accompanied it. But before she turns away, a silhouette with pointed ears suddenly appears on the rooftop of the building across from her. She watches him lean over, resting elbows on the ledge as the flash of a grin crosses his face. Smiling back, she raises a hand to send a small wave and watches him nod in response, a gesture that connects their bridge of silent communication.

    However, before any more could be said, Henry’s arms suddenly wrap around Jazz’s waist, hugging her from behind as his lips kiss the nape of her neck. Surprised by the intimate gesture, Jazz turns her head to meet his gaze and covers one of his hands with hers. After whispering into her ear, he lets go of her as quickly as he had embraced her and recedes into the apartment, leaving Jazz to turn her eyes back to the skyline; but emptiness is all she finds on the rooftop, her face falling slightly at the discovery.

    They made their choices long ago, and remembering that fact is sometimes hard to swallow, much like right now. She breathes a small sigh, hoping the feelings of regret slowly filling her up will blow away with her breath, before she closes the window and follows the man she still whispers loving words to every night.

  2. aiwac

    aiwac Member

    Aug 1, 2008
    Likes Received:
    Very well done. The dialogue is spot on and I like the foreshadowing about Bruce handing over the company. It clears the way to themes of inheritance and generations, some of which I want to touch on myself. I generally despise love triangles, but you're doing a good job with yours.

    I should ask, though:

    Isn't the Jolie reference a bit dated in Terry's universe (at least 2-3 decades?).
  3. SilentBat18

    SilentBat18 Hmm, so, yeah

    Jun 23, 2006
    Likes Received:
    Aw shucks, you makin me blush :eek:

    Well i figured given the way our generation tends to make the famous infamous and unforgettable overnight thanks to social media, i thought the movie stars of today can easily become immortal. I mean, we still reference marilyn monroe when more than half our generation has never seen a single one of her movies. i thought Jolie is a big enough movie star to be on Monroe's level in the future, if that makes sense.
  4. Theking

    Theking Very cute Lego Babe.

    Feb 4, 2002
    Likes Received:
    Oh that was awesome. Perfect script. Everything spot on.

    Only problem? TOO SHORT he he

    Good going.


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