In The Pursuit of Success

Secrets & Success

Merry Christmas, my lovelies!

Final chapter!

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"You think Didi's going to be okay?" Trish asks, taking the eraser end of her pencil out of her mouth, fresh chew marks now coating it. "I mean, settling in and all?"

"Focus, Trish. You've got a test tomorrow." Dez sips his freshly-brewed coffee, reeling back soon after due to the heat. "Ow! I burned my tongue." Trish cackles, any attention she has towards her studies vanishing.

"It's just a quiz, Dez. I'm more worried about your sister." She gets up and takes the hot coffee from her panting boyfriend, setting it down on the nearest table. She continues giggling, shaking her head at him as he tries to settle down. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I guess I should've waited." He shrugs. "Anyway, my sister's going to the University of Miami. She's commuting from home, she'll be fine," he reassures her.

She moves towards him. Her hands travel up his shirt, across the buttons, until they reach his collar. She tugs lightly at it, urging him to lean down. He refuses to oblige.

"Trish, you need to study," he states, a playful smile upon his face.

"What I need is a distraction." She pulls him down to her, as she pushes herself up off the ground on her toes, her lips meeting his in the middle. As much as Dez yearns to fight it, he gives into her and reciprocates almost immediately. His arms wrap around her shoulders, pulling her closer. They maintain this position for a few moments, until Trish's ankles tire from the pressure that she's exerting on them. Upon releasing him, she strides over and takes a seat on Dez's bed. Dez quirks a brow at her.

"I don't think I'm ready to give you that sorta distraction," he squeaks, his voice raising a few octaves. Trish scoffs, shaking her head.

"All I did was sit on your bed – get your mind outta the gutter, you doof," she growls out. Dez reddens in the face, his cheeks looking practically sunburnt. He shifts his eyes around in embarrassment before he focuses his attention back on her.

He finds her smiling at him, which only makes him all the more apprehensive. The smile does not seem malicious, but he could be wrong. She winks at him as she lies herself down on the bed, resting her hands over her stomach and staring at the ceiling of Dez's apartment.

A few unopened boxes are scattered about here and there, as he has only recently moved in. The situation is still uncertain, yet Dez remains hopeful that something grand will soon come his way. He has, indeed, started training under the mentorship of director Ridda Scotts. And – as promised – she has been able to help him find work. A few small projects that pay just enough to cover his bills, sure, but he holds his optimism. The opportunities will grow, he keeps on encouraging himself.

Dez travels over to his bed and lies himself down next to his girlfriend. They lie there quietly, simply enjoying each other's company for some time. Dez lays a hand on top of hers on her stomach.

"Dez…" she utters, turning her head to him. Her eyes hold uncertainty and worry. Dez's apprehension quickly returns to him.

"What's wrong?"

"Well…" she inhales, holding her breath for a few seconds before letting out a thin, steady stream of air. Should I tell him now?, she questions herself. Dez grips onto one of her, now fidgety, hands and pulls it to his chest.

"Babe, you can tell me. It's okay, I won't get mad," he assures her – uncertain of whether or not he can actually keep that promise.

"What do you think about Trent and Kye?" she asks him out of the blue – the topic having nothing to do with the actual subject weighing heavily on her mind. She retracts her hand from his and sits herself up on the bed. She rocks back and forth slightly in her seat, anxiety slowly overcoming her.