Chapter 5: Bring the Butler

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worthless freeloader

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...worthless freeloader...

Odile locked eyes with herself in the mirror, fingers gripping the barre. She stretched to a backdrop of mellow jazz and contemplated her circumstance.

It's just such a disgrace. All that hard work, and for what? To become the black swan of the family?

Her Belgravia home boasted its own studio, a once-grand ballroom converted at the whim of current owner and former ballerina, the Honourable Abigail Proctor, CBE. Odile spent most of her time here, now that she no longer had access to Kingsley facilities.

Well, she could have wrangled access, on account of being a Proctor, but using her family privilege in order to escape her family home seemed counterproductive.

You should be grateful that you even have this. Why haven't you joined a dance company yet?

Odile winced at her reflection. She'd been offered plenty of opportunities... by company directors too well-acquainted with her mother for her comfort.

Doesn't mother know best, anyway? She's only looking out for you and wants you to succeed.

"All Abigail wants is to get knighted before she's sixty," Odile mumbled to herself and raised her leg up to her ear.

Don't be mean, you know how much she's suffered. You effectively ended –

Her music came to an abrupt halt, then her phone began to buzz on the grand piano with a call instead.

"Oh, for fuck's sake..."

Huffing and puffing, Odile straightened up from the barre and stomped over. She hated how her furrowed eyebrows relaxed at the sight of caller ID 'Magic Jun' on her screen.

"You won't believe what just came in the mail," he blurted right off the bat. "Or maybe you already got yours?"

She rolled her eyes at her disgruntled mirror self. "Good morning to you, too, Mr Yang. What in bloody hell are you on about?"

Jun chuckled. "I just got a parcel from Vincent Friday. A Phenomenal care package."

"Huh." Unplugging her mobile, Odile wandered out into the hall in search of a maid. "What's in it?"

"Some pretty sweet merch and fancy goodies, but the most important thing of all..."

The ground-floor drawing room stood deserted, so Odile headed downstairs.

"Carry on, then," she urged Jun, deadpan. "The suspense is killing me, mate."

"Oh, yeah, I can hear it!"

Odile finally found one of the maids and, holding the speaker away from her mouth, inquired as to any post that might have arrived for her.

"Oh, looks like I got a parcel, too," she told Jun before he had a chance to spoil the ending. "Let's see."

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