The Royal Scandal | Prince William |

I'm Fine

August 5, 2000

It was an odd sight, Jaclyn Webber, the girl who was all so serious sprawled out with her hands tucked under her chin with a far off look in her eyes.

Okay, so maybe she wasn't sprawled out, her left foot was propped on her desk chair in an over split. Still, she never slacked forward in such a position, always her core was sharp as her razor eyes.

"Has he called you?"

"Has he called you?" Jaclyn asked, turning Natania's question back on her. Of course, he had called her, but the both of them were also very busy training.

The separation gave her reason to believe that the media still circling her head were being ridiculous, and left time for her to remember him answering her questions as she bounded through Westminster Abbey like a hyper child.

Every person in England acted like they were getting engaged tomorrow when in fact they were barely friends. Why couldn't there just be a period of uncertainty, where there really wasn't anything going on?

Zara had scoffed when Javlyn had shared that thought with her when the papers first started to follow her. "Where's the fun in that?" She had said. That had been four weeks ago...

"I'm glad you're not letting the press bother you," Nat continued. She was thankful Zara was running late to their annual movie night. It gave her some time to try and grasp where Jaclyn's mind was at, and Zara only encouraged her to act like it didn't exist.

"Sometimes it's hard, but I'm happy and that's all that matters." Jaclyn fouetted so she was now in a right split with her back leg up. She couldn't imagine going through this if she weren't. "I think he's happy too, there's something familiar about him again."

That made her blush, surely growing up here and around some of his family Natania would know what she was talking about, but the idea that she could make a prince happy still seemed absurd.

"Have you told your family yet?"

"Why would I do that?"

Natania laughed more hysterically than she should have, "maybe because your face is plastered on nearly every paper in this country. I talked to my mom last night, and she said it still hasn't reached Villa Grove yet so you can get a jump on it."

"As long as it's not in that country I'm sure I'm fine." Jaclyn fiddled with the strings of her sweater finally coming down from her stretch to shake out her hallucinating hip flexors. There was no reason to worry her family when nothing was going to come of it. Not when her grandmother had watched and idolized Diana, she would sign Jaclyn's death certificate if she heard.

Plus, bringing it up might just elongate the whole painful process.

Natania gave her that look, and like every other time she pretended to be oblivious. If the pattern continued next she would ask how she felt, but how did she feel?

Her phone rang again most likely a reporter who found her number, and if it weren't for Natania watching her she would have thrown her head against her desk.

"I'm really..." Brriing "... Happy..." Brriing

I'm happy, I'm so so happy, they have to know that just like I do, she thought catching some of the wariness that threatened to consume her voice each time her phone interrupted her. So she put on her best stage smile, one that was kind and not hiding any secrets. A smile for someone beautiful like Raymonda who felt the power to command.

Exhausted, Jaclyn just felt exhausted.

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September 1, 2000

Thomas lifted Jaclyn into air holding her in a well practiced arabesque lift before letting her spiral down into a fish. He plied back on his right leg releasing one arm. Upon looking at the mirror Thomas thought they looked pretty good.

"I look like a dead fish," Jaclyn deadpanned interrupting his thoughts. His head titled to the side, with her still secure against him, to examine what she meant. "Maybe if you stopped hyper extending your arm."

"I just don't think it's working." Her foot found the ground, and Thomas let her step back wiping at some of the sweat on his forehead. "Well good thing Ursula Moreton isn't until February." They always started brainstorming early, but never first day of September early. One look out at the front gate, and he didn't question why.

Jaclyn was a private person, she didn't flaunt her problems, but that meant she inclined to despise people who wouldn't take a hint when it came to sticking their noses somewhere it didn't belong.

"I think you're crazy we look great," Thomas argued. Of course they looked great, they always did, unless Jaclyn neglected to warm up her psoas muscle properly. After tearing it last year she could barely lift her leg to forty-five degrees without properly warming up.

"But it's the same thing we did last year, but in a different order, and it's the same thing everyone else will be doing." She started to roll out her shoulders wanting to keep the tension away from her toughest muscles to tame. "We need something eye catching and fresh," she paused letting her eyes scan the photographs on the walls, "like that-"

"Please don't bring up that American movie again," he sighed.

Her finger flew out defensively, "Center Stage is a work of art and you know it."

"If work of art now means terrible acting-"

"The choreography is superb though, and as artists that's the one thing we should focus on."

"If you think Ms. Lewis will let us imitate sex on stage-"

"Shh!" Jaclyn hissed watching as two girls walked by the open doors shock mixing in with their delight. "I only meant the dancing, but now I'm willing to bet there will be a story somewhere by tomorrow that I'm down for choreographed sex."

At least he had the decency to look sheepish deciding that he would try to convince the two girls, who just had to be first years, into not selling the story. She probably didn't know panic was ripping past her facade, so that was probably what made him yield. They still had several months anyways plenty of time for her to change her mind.

"Okay fine, contemporary, but what's the story?" He asked turning to the mirror to fix his dark hair.

"I don't know yet, something risky but not controversial. Something where we're the only ones that know the true meaning, but everyone else can tell there's a story so they make up their own." She started marking through different ideas with her hands and feet, while he continued fluffing his hair that was drooping over his sweat band across his forehead. "Ahah!"

"What?" he asked noticing the gleam that could be seen through the mirrors. "I just have the most amazing idea," she scurried over to him, "I'm going to do a penche, and your going to be holding my hands on your knee." They placed themselves in this very position, he had to admit it was odd looking but he could see where she was going.

"Then I press up on your hands to spin you in a double coupe turn." She stopped herself back to him. "Now grab around my waist, and I'll back walkover over your shoulder." She breezed over his shoulder, but he definitely had to take an extra second to adjust the weight. Once standing back up she watched bemused as he stretched out his arms.

Catching onto her grinning demeanor he retorted, "Jody's quick changes were ridiculous, you can't change my mind."

-----

The next day Jaclyn stormed in, Thomas noted she was more flustered than angry, a good sign. Then she slid him a magazine the Yellow Headline screaming at him before it even touched his hand.

Tackie Jackie Is All For Stripping Down For An Audience

Obviously his talk did no good.

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So I know where this story is going (I have the big plot details figured out.) But is there anything you guys want to see? I'd love some feedback!