Everything You Want

Sean and I spent the rest of the day doing whatever came to mind. We grabbed a quick lunch at a deli that was near the studio, and from there we went all over New York City. So much had changed since I’d been here last, and I was just taking everything in. We took a long walk along the bay, mostly catching up on everything in the past ten years. I told Sean about getting my degree, working at the bar, and how I was recruited for modeling. He told me about the last several films he’s done, and managed to slip in how often Norman asked about me. I was indifferent about Norman, but I was forever content to hear of all the roles Sean played in my absence. They had even made a Boondock Saints 2, and I mentally noted I would have to watch it one night here since Sean was sure to have it. He was a movie hoarder.

Apparently, Sean had dinner reservations for us at 6pm. We arrived back at his apartment around 3:45, so we could both get ready for the dinner. I stared at the clothes I had brought for a good fifteen minutes, before Sean finally decided to help me out a little bit.

“It’s a nice restaurant, and we won’t be alone. Wear something nice,” he said, gently moving me aside and looking through the clothes. He pulled out a soft black dress that fell at its longest point just above my knees in several diamond shapes, and had a spaghetti strap top. It was very simple, yet it had a plain elegance about it.

“Alright, alright. Now, shoo. Lemme get ready,” I said, ushering him out of the room. I slipped into the dress, and smiled into the full-length mirror in front of me. It was one of my favorites, and I was glad Sean picked this one. I had zero work to do with my hair or make-up; before I had left the studio, Tyra had her team wash all the eccentric make up from my face; she had wanted to do my make-up, a soft smoky eye look that accented the gold flecks in my eyes. My hair had too much spray and product to even begin to detangle, so we had left it alone. It looked good, but it definitely screamed ‘model’.

I complimented the solid black dress with a long golden arrow necklace, the point of the arrow reaching almost to my belly, and an ivory claw necklace that rested on my chest. I wore a rose-gold Michael Khors watch on my left wrist, and thin bangles on my right wrist. The heels I picked out had black ribbons around the ankle that melted into black feathers on top of a glittering gold heel.
I knew Sean was going to take his precious time in the shower and getting ready, so I plopped on the couch and rummaged through his movies. Nothing that would be finished before out dinner seemed particularly interesting, so I flipped the flat-screen television on and settled on N.C.I.S., one of my long-time favorite shows, until Sean finally emerged from his bedroom at a quarter till six. He was dressed in dark jeans, a black button-up, and a nice black pea coat over that.

“You ready, woman? We have twenty minutes to get there,” I said teasingly, and he stuck his tongue out at me in response to my next comment. “Are we also going to a funeral?”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re so clever. Now let’s go.”

Sean and I arrived at the Tribeca Grill in Lower Manhattan with three minutes to spare.
“Reservation for Flannery,” he spoke to the host, who smiled and directed us towards a set of stairs and into a private room. The moment we stepped in a pair of arms were thrown around my neck before I knew what was happening. Just as quickly, the girl retreated and stood in front of me with a wide grin on her lips.

“Cleo!” I exclaimed, completely overwhelmed by the joy upon seeing my old best friend. Cleo Westbrook and I had gone through school together since pre-k. We were instant friends upon the realization we both detested the ‘popular’ blonde girl, Grace, who thought she ran the school since she knew how to spread her legs in a cheerleading skirt, and throw colored balls into the air. I hated her more than life itself when she realized who my cousin was and tried to be friends. Sean had been a senor our freshman year, and though he wasn’t your stereotypical popular football player, he was liked by everyone- students and faculty alike. He was the class clown, and had friends belonging to all the high school cliques. During school, we acted more like siblings who lived together and tended to mind our own business, though if anyone was picking on Cleo and I, Sean was sure to find out and even more sure to take care of it.

“Kenzi!” she replied, her grin matching mine perfectly.

Sean chuckled softly, watching as we embraced again.

“Oh my God! What are you doing here?” I asked, holding her at arms length. “I haven’t seen you in ages, what’s new?”

She moved a little closer to Sean, and they glanced at each other for a moment.

“Oh, you sneaky bastard,” I grinned, shoving him. Truth be told, since day one I was on the Cleo-Sean train; I’d never admitted to either of them, but I secretly hoped they would end up together for good. “You did not!”

“You’re going to murder me for not telling you sooner,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and wrapping the other around her waist. “But uh…”

“We’re engaged!” finished Cleo, never one to withhold such beautiful information. Both of them smiling brilliantly, like you saw in cheesy romance movies.

“No fucking way! Since when?”

“About a month ago,” Sean said, glancing down at her with love and adoration. “Been together about six months, but it’s just too fucking perfect. She’s perfect. We've known each other for ages, and when you left we just started to get closer... A lot closer, and then, well, we started dating... And it was like everything coudn't get better.”

“I can’t believe one of you didn’t tell me,” I huffed, but I couldn’t even wipe the smile off my face to pretend being mad at them. “But dear God, that’s fucking amazing.”

“Well, you were so far away! And always so busy! If you knew how to return a fucking phone call once and a while, I would’a told you!”

I couldn’t argue with Sean- he had me there. I would, of course, blame it on our hectic schedules and the seven-hour time difference. I had sorely missed both Cleo and Sean but somehow managed to only remember their calls at horrid times.

“I suppose you’ve a point,” I said, rolling my eyes. I watched Seans expression mold slightly- one of sheer happiness, to one of slight nervousness.

“Also, er, that’s not the only thing you might hate me for…”

My brow furrowed in confusion, but I couldn’t focus on his statement for long. There were light footsteps behind me and a pair of arms wrapped around my hips, catching me entirely off guard. I almost jumped away, but I looked down at the young boy beside me with wide eyes.

He smiled back up at me, and I felt my blood run cold. I would know that blonde hair and blue eyes anywhere.

It was Mingus Reedus. And Seans words immediately clicked.

“And oh, look at you! You’ve grown up so much,” I cooed, brushing some hair from his eyes with a soft smile. Mingus and I used to be total BFFs, complete with full on Call of Duty wars against everyone else online. We were nigh unstoppable, and our domination hadn’t stopped with my move. We played together online rather frequently, the only thing that had changed was the consoles and games.

“So have you!” he giggled in return, and I chuckled at his response. I glanced over at Sean, and he was eyeing me carefully before his gaze flickered behind me. I knew without even looking who was standing in the doorway, and I should have known Sean had this up his sleeve before we even left the apartment. I quickly kissed Mingus’ cheek and stood properly before I slowly turned around.

There, in the doorway, stood Norman Reedus- who, in all his excellence and utter beauty, took my breath straight from my lungs.

I needed a cigarette, or I needed whiskey.