Chapter 18: Hawthorne Effect.

February 5, 5:30 PM. Château des Rêves, Alex and Kate's room.
Kate finishes her preparations for the date with Brian at the Topanga Canyon Inn. It starts at 7 PM, and the drive from Dreamside takes about an hour, so Brian should arrive at the estate soon.
She stands in front of the large mirror, inspecting her outfit. She wears a minimalistic bright red dress with long sleeves, a fitted bodice, and a flared A-line skirt that ends above the knee. The high neckline features a white pointed collar, and a slim black belt cinches the waist. Her sleeves end neatly at the wrists. On her feet are elegant gray heels with a black polka-dot pattern. Her makeup stays soft—matte rosy lipstick and black mascara. Her hair falls down with a gentle side part, slight waves at the ends, and subtle volume at the roots.
Alex lies on the giant fold-out couch, head propped on a pillow against the wall. He wears loose gray shorts, black socks, and a relaxed white T-shirt. His white sneakers rest on the floor nearby.
He watches her silently, his expression thoughtful rather than negative. Kate catches his reflection in the mirror. She turns, flashing a smile full of affection and nervous energy.
"I look stupid?" she asks, doing a half-turn to show off the dress. "Or cute enough to seduce an up-and-coming rapper?"
Alex snaps out of his thoughts and smiles. "Well… uh…" He runs his fingers through his hair with both hands. "Your line… it's kind of arousing, and it makes me feel a little uncomfortable. Ahem." He studies the dress. "As your old-but-current boyfriend, I like it. And Brian…" He glances at the ceiling. "I don't really know him, but I guess he won't care. He'll probably just want to get it off sooner or later."
Kate laughs softly and steps closer, standing in front of him with her hands on her hips. The red dress swishes as she moves.
"Damn right he will," she says with a playful smirk. She ruffles his hair gently. "But don't worry, I didn't pick this specifically for him. This is just my usual preppy-try-hard look. You know I like being uncomfortable and overdressed sometimes."
Alex lets out a long sigh. "Do you even see how massive our sexodrome is?" He sweeps his hand over the giant fold-out couch like a game show host. "It took you ten seconds just to walk from the mirror to me. Those hotel beds? Tiny. Pathetic. Nothing like this. And your up-and-coming rapper, basketball player, boxer, whatever-the-fuck gladiator of a man… he's built like a tank, Kate!"
His eyes bulge in fake horror as he clutches the pillow. "Fuck, he's gonna flatten you! He'll crush you and the bed in one hit!"
He throws his head back and whisper-shouts with over-the-top despair. "Nooo! Oh God, nooo! Someone call FEMA—this is a natural disaster in the making!"
Kate laughs, still grinning. "And yes, I chose the bed specifically for its epic size. Maybe I just wanted to be prepared for all my future activities here, hm?"
Alex points at her. "You're laughing at me. Right?" He uses a mock-offended tone while fighting back his own laughter. "What 'future activities'? Four years ago, there was no Brian! It was just you and me…"
He pauses, then bursts into laughter. "And a bunch of your friends and their friends, who started shaping the entire staff at Château des Rêves. Anyway, you know what I mean! And we picked this couch together! Yes, it's a couch. Not a bed! A giant fold-out couch…"
He gasps for air, laughing hard. "It doesn't even look like a bed! In English, everything you lie on is called a bed? That's ridiculous!"
Kate watches him, her smile widening. She sits down beside him, one leg curled under herself, the red dress pooling around her thighs. "Oh my God, Alex," she sighs, nudging him with her elbow. "You really think a five-by-seven foot piece of furniture is just a couch? That's like saying the ocean is just a big puddle."
She leans in, resting her chin on his shoulder. "And yes, I chose it specifically for future activities. Activities with lots of people." Her fingers trace patterns on his arm. "Four years ago it was just us, but time marches on, and people change."
Alex rolls his eyes. "Careful, you'll wrinkle your dress. And I know people change." As he speaks, Kate laughs, slides off the couch, and returns to the mirror to take a selfie.
He raises an eyebrow. "Wait… what did you just say, my Goddess? What do you mean by 'activities with lots of people'? Who's going to be here after February 28 besides Brian, when Dana ships me off to Cambria? Does Aria still have any boyfriends at the moment?"
Kate glances over her shoulder, smirking. "Oh, Alex… always so literal." She flips her hair. "Let's just say the guest list is flexible. And who knows? Some surprises keep life interesting." She snaps the selfie, tilts her phone, and winks.
Alex sighs and rolls onto his other side, hugging the pillow over his head. "Your jokes are getting more and more creepy." He groans. "But if you ever decide to 'explore' your 'boundaries,' 'growth,' or whatever with Amy or Madi… now that would actually be good… hehehe…"
Kate lets out a short, sharp laugh—amused and dismissive. She turns from the mirror, phone still in hand. "Oh, please. Amy? Madi? Baby Boy, you're hilarious." Her thumb taps rapidly on the screen. "My 'exploration' is a little more focused than that."
Alex lifts his head. "Oh… I don't doubt that." He rolls his eyes before dropping back onto the pillow. "Are you texting Brian right now? He'll be here soon, won't he? Let's just say I don't walk you out to his car, okay?"
His voice sounds playful and a little tired, but underneath it lingers a faint trace of fear—fear that Kate might actually make him go through with what, in his mind, would be an embarrassing humiliation.
Kate pauses mid-text, her fingers hovering over the screen. She glances at Alex, her smirk softening into something warmer, more playful.
"Baby Boy," she says, her voice teasing but gentle, "you really think I'd make you do that?" She shakes her head, a soft laugh escaping her. "Relax. Brian's a big boy—he can wait by the car. I'll go out to him myself. No need to make a scene."
Alex laughs. "Well, thank God for that!" He rolls around on the giant fold-out couch-bed, weaving between the pillows like a big sleepy cat. "Ugh, I still need to check what's in that pink folder Malu gave me today… probably another invitation to some writers' evening. Then there are my English grammar lessons with Sarah… and this Cambria… I mean, I'll always have something to do during Erodreamarts."
He pauses, lost in thought. "Cambria. Never been there before. I just hope it's not some California backwater…" Alex chuckles at his own words. Over the past few years, Dreamside has become his Eden—a utopian comfort zone he is reluctant to leave, even for Los Angeles.
Kate smiles, tapping her phone screen a few more times before she sets it on the table. "Cambria? Baby Boy, you're so dramatic. It'll be fine." She moves closer to the couch, leans down, and ruffles his hair playfully. "Besides, you'll be too busy thinking about me and Brian to care what Cambria looks like."
Alex lets out a playful groan as he stretches out his hand, fumbling for his phone among the pillows. He glances at the screen. "It's already 5:40 PM. Your date with him is at 7. So he'll be here by 6, right? Topanga's about an hour away…"
He squints at the ceiling. "He's not rushing, is he? Like… one of those rules—keep the girl waiting, marinate her a little before you show up. Classic move. Clearly not a rookie… bastard. Not like me at the start of our relationship, huh?"
He tries to sound wounded, but the playful undertone slips through anyway. Grabbing a pillow, Alex drops it onto his face and cries out in the most over-the-top dramatic voice: "Woe is meee!"
Kate snorts and swats the pillow off his face. "Oh my God, drama queen," she says, rolling her eyes but grinning. "Brian doesn't play those games. He's not some fuckboy with a PowerPoint on How to Keep Her Waiting 101." She grabs his phone before he can react and snaps a quick pic of his faux-tragic expression. "Look at this. My poor Baby Boy, suffering so nobly."
Alex keeps declaiming in a theatrical voice, as if he is in a Shakespearean tragedy. "Oh, behold how she is dressed!" He points a finger at her: her minimalistic and classic dress is a bright red, long-sleeved piece with a fitted bodice and a flared A-line skirt that ends above the knee. A high neckline with a white pointed collar gives it a preppy, school-inspired touch. The waistline is cinched with a slim black belt. The sleeves are straight and slightly fitted, ending at the wrists without cuffs or embellishments.
"Back in my dates with her four years ago, she never dressed like that! And all because of the elephant cock of that damned Moor! Woe is me! Tonight I shall poison myself!"
At the end, he can't hold it anymore and bursts into a chuckle, failing to keep up the act. "Sorry, I'm a writer, not an actor! You're the one who was in The Cathedral, Anomaly Zone, Inspector Supreme. I never even acted in school Shakespeare plays, because in that shithole country I lived in—there were none! You guys don't even realize what an amazing childhood you had, you spoiled, gluttonous so-called native white Americans!"
He tries to grab a pillow with one hand and throw it at Kate, but his wrist cramps up. "Ow, fuck! Almost dislocated it! I'm so pathetic!" Alex laughs, clutching his wrist with his other hand.
Kate rolls her eyes with an exaggerated sigh as she adjusts the waistband of her dress, smoothing out any wrinkles. She looks at him with mock pity. "Ohhh, the tragedy! The struggle! The injustice!" she teases, moving to perch on the edge of the bed beside him and squeezing his hand. "It's not my fault you're not built like a Greek god, hon."
She leans in closer, studying him with playful amusement. "You don't need to poison yourself, babe. Just accept reality—sometimes I like things you can't give me, and that's okay."
Alex doesn't answer. He just silently pulls the pillow over his face. Anyone else might not think much of it—but Kate knows: her last words struck a nerve. If Alex heard something like that from anyone else, he would lash out with curses. But when Kate says it, he falls silent.
A long pause fills the air. Kate knows him too well. His breathing is shallow under the pillow, the rise and fall rapid and uneven. Her hand stays wrapped around his, fingers squeezing gently.
"I don't mean it like that," she says finally, her voice soft, almost an apology. She tugs at the pillow, trying to pry it away from his face, but he resists slightly. "You know that, right? You know me."
He lets out a muffled sound but still doesn't pull the pillow away.
"You don't need to go all Hamlet on me," she teases, nudging him. "I love you, idiot. That hasn't changed."
Alex doesn't move the pillow from his face, but speaks through it in a muffled voice. "Okay. If you've been with me all these four years and haven't left me for Brian—maybe that means something."
He catches himself wanting to say something like, "Maybe I should start doing some 'exploring' with Sarah or Lila too?" But he doesn't.
Kate tugs at the pillow again and finally yanks it away. His eyes are red-rimmed, his hair disheveled. He won't meet her gaze.
"Oh, Baby Boy," she murmurs, sliding closer on the couch. "You're really making this harder than it needs to be." Her fingers brush through his hair, coaxing him to look at her. "Four years, Alex. Of course I know what you're thinking."
Alex glances at her, then shifts his eyes to the ceiling. He is afraid to say anything. In the past, he couldn't even imagine having sex with anyone but Kate. But over the last two days—ever since Saturday morning—that treacherous thought has been creeping into his head again and again. Part of him feels it is unfair that he only sleeps with Kate, while she not only decided to fuck Brian but to basically become his girlfriend too: with real dates and everything. Another part of him fears that if he also starts his own "explorations," it will shatter their relationship.
Finally, he speaks.
"Look, it's fine." Alex says quietly, without looking at her. "It doesn't weigh on me the way it did over the weekend. It's just… I'm different from you, temperament-wise. I'm not some narrow-minded conservative—I'm an erotic writer, I've told you a hundred times this past weekend, it's just…" He shrugs. "It's weird. Saturday and Sunday it was weird and scary, and now—it's just weird and kind of funny… I guess."
He looks straight at Kate, and it is obvious he is mustering his courage.
"Kate, I…" he pauses, then blurts it out. "I love you, but your sense of humor is fucking weird to me sometimes, and it gets to me. I love it, like I love all of you as a whole, but… it does get to me." He shifts his gaze back to the ceiling, his face paling slightly from the tension.
Inside, Alex resolves not to bring up the idea of his own possible explorations with other girls. No. He is a one-woman man. He simply cannot do it. Kate lets the pillow drop to the floor as she studies Alex's face. His confession about loving her weirdness but being unsettled by it hangs between them, raw and unfiltered.
"You think I'm weird?" she asks, tilting her head with that familiar deadpan expression. "I think you're adorable when you're being weird about my weirdness." Alex chuckles and rolls his eyes. "I don't mean it in a bad way, my Goddess!" He grabs her hand and presses it to his cheek, like a little kid holding a stuffed toy. "Let's just call it what it is instead of saying 'things you can't give me'… uh… I'm a physically average white guy, and my dick's, what, five inches hard at best. Nothing I can do about it—what grew, grew. And I get why you'd want some variety with Brian after four years with me. I really do. It's fine. The important thing is that you love me—and that's enough for me."
Alex's words hang in the air, a strange mix of self-deprecation and raw honesty. Kate's expression does not change, but her eyes soften. She squeezes his hand where it rests against his cheek.
"You're an idiot," she says, her voice flat but fond. "A five-star, premium-grade idiot." She leans in and kisses the tip of his nose. "I don't want variety. I want you. Brian is just… a different flavor of ice cream. You're the whole sundae, Baby Boy. With the cherry on top."
Her phone, face-down on the table, buzzes. She gently pries her hand away from his cheek. She approaches the table. It is Brian calling. The time is 5:55 PM. Kate quickly darts to the table and picks up the phone, lifting it to her ear. Brian's voice comes through immediately: "Katy-Cat, you ready? I'm already outside—come on down."
"Brian," she purrs, her voice dripping with amusement and something deeper. "I'll be right there. Just give me a minute to freshen up and grab my things." She hangs up before he can respond, turning back to Alex with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Oh… have fun on your date with your new boyfriend!" Alex exclaims playfully. "And I'll be here, jerking off alone while I work on my book. And not just that. A whole night of jerking off, basically! Didn't used to be like this!"
Lying on the giant fold-out couch-bed, Alex points at Kate as she grabs her purse, getting ready to leave their room and head downstairs to meet Brian for their date at the Topanga Canyon Inn. Kate gives her minimalistic bright red dress one last adjustment in the mirror—a long-sleeved piece with a fitted bodice and a flared A-line skirt ending above the knee, a high neckline accented with a white pointed collar. The waistline is defined with a slim black belt, and the sleeves end at the wrists.
"Do you understand?" he asks playfully. Kate pivots away from the mirror with a wry smile, adjusting the purse strap on her shoulder. "I understand completely, my sweet, sad cuckfriend," she says, her words droll but affectionate. She strides over to the couch-bed where Alex lounges and places both hands on the mattress, leaning down until her face hovers inches from his. Up close, her perfume envelops him—soft floral notes mixed with something warmer, more intimate.
"But let's get one thing straight," she murmurs, her breath warm against his lips. "Brian may have a big dick, but you're still the one who gets my heart." She kisses him lightly, her lips brushing his with delicate precision. As she pulls away, Alex lets out a sigh. "Yeah, your lipstick tastes pretty good…" he chuckles. "Well, go on then. Try not to run into any of the staff… though they'll find out anyway. Especially that omnipresent Shrima…" He throws his hands behind his head. "Not a house with staff, more like a boarding house full of gossip."
Kate straightens up, smirking down at him with that maddeningly self-satisfied expression he adores. "Oh, I'll make sure Shrima sees me," she says, voice dripping with mischief. "Maybe I'll even tell her all about my plans for tonight, if I see her." She leans down again, nipping playfully at his earlobe before whispering, "Don't worry, I'll be in safe hands... And they'll be with me too."
Alex smiles, feeling aroused. He lies on his back, hands behind his head, and hears the door close—Kate leaving their room and heading downstairs to meet Brian in his car.
Left alone in the silence, Alex lets out an excited sigh. He rolls onto his side, places a pillow between his legs, and lowers his loose gray shorts, pressing his bare cock against the fabric. With slow, repetitive movements, Alex humps the pillow, imagining Brian with Kate.
February 5, 6:00 PM. Mimi Vega's room, third floor, Château des Rêves.
Two maids, Mimi Vega and her friend Wickie Koval, lie on the giant bed in Mimi's room on the third floor of Château des Rêves. Mimi wears a white bikini top and loose blue jeans. Wickie wears a loose white T-shirt and baggy blue shorts. They stare at Mimi's open laptop, watching Alex in his room.
"Holy shit, what's he doing… jerking off?" Wickie giggles. She rests her cheeks in her hands as she leans toward the screen. "Damn, Mimi—why didn't you tell me you secretly installed a snake Wi-Fi mini camera in Alex and Kate's room? What kind of friend are you?" Wickie nudges her with an elbow, still giggling. "Has that thing been there for a while? And they haven't noticed yet? Doesn't it make any sound?"
"Shhhh! Not so loud, Wickie!" Mimi glances nervously at the door, then drops her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "It's brand new. Only been there three days. And no, it doesn't make any sound—it's magnetic and super quiet. I hid it in their ceiling lamp fixture where they can't see it."
She turns back to the laptop. Alex now moves his hips faster against the pillow, his breathing heavier.
"God, he's so fucking weird, Wickie! Jerking off right after his girlfriend just left for a date with another guy! What a freak!"
Wickie giggles. "I'm surprised that thing picks up sound so well. You say it's been there three days? So you set it up Friday morning when you were tidying their room?"
Wickie shifts her gaze from the screen to Mimi and twirls a braid of her pink-dyed hair around her finger.
Mimi nods excitedly, her brown eyes gleaming. "Yes! I just had to screw the little camera under the lampshade, and voilà—perfect view of the whole bed! And I can hear everything too!"
Wickie giggles harder, buries her face in the sheets, then pops her head back up. "Damn, girl, you're something else!" She gives Mimi's ass a playful tap with her foot. "We just watched his so-called 'Goddess' head out to bounce on Brian's dick… and he actually looks happy about it!"
She rolls her eyes, laughing. "God, if only the rest of the staff girls could see this…" Then she shoots Mimi a teasing look. "But don't worry, I won't spill a word. As long as you play nice." She gives Mimi's nose a quick, cheeky pinch.
Mimi shivers at the pinch, giggles, and swats Wickie's hand away. She shifts closer to the laptop and adjusts the angle so Alex's body fills the frame. "Oh my God, he's gonna cum!" she squeals in a breathy whisper.
Her fingers dig into the sheets. Alex's movements turn frantic. His hips piston harder against the pillow. Through the laptop speakers, his ragged breathing fills the room.
"Look at him, Wickie! He's fucking a pillow like some pathetic little—"
She cuts herself off with a moan as Alex's body tenses. His back arches off the giant fold-out couch-bed. He cums. A few small drops of thick, cloudy semen shoot onto the blue pillow.
Without bothering to tuck his cock back into his shorts, he pulls another pillow—a white sleeping one—under his head. He drifts off. His limp cock still rests against the blue pillow, now faintly stained with cum.
"His dick's not that big…" Wickie giggles. "Hard or soft, makes no difference." She bends her pinky finger to demonstrate. "No wonder Kate's so hooked on Brian… damn. Is it really that small?"
Wickie leans in close, her nose almost touching the screen. "Hard to tell from here… maybe average… or not?" She turns to Mimi. "Becky doesn't call him 'Short Tail' for nothing, huh? What do you think—did she see it herself, or did Kate tell her?"
Wickie furrows her brows. "I mean, it's not like Kate keeps secrets from her personal assistant-slash-bestie, right?"
Mimi grins, fingers trailing along the edge of her laptop. "I dunno, but Brian's definitely got Kate wrapped around his finger." She angles the screen slightly for a better view as Alex shifts in his sleep, his cock still hanging loosely against his thigh. "God, he's pathetic."
Wickie rolls onto her side on the bed and props her head up with her hand. "And yet..." she drawls, tapping Mimi's knee teasingly, "you're still here watching. Fascinated, aren't you?"
Mimi scoffs but doesn't deny it. Wickie keeps going. "Well, I guess there must be something about that wanker, right? Since Kate fell for him. Or maybe not? Doesn't he write erotica under pen names or something? I wonder which ones…" She fiddles with her braid. "I bet the ‘inner circle' girls like Lila, Becky, or Daria know… but they won't spill shit. I'm sure he just writes some boring crap." Wickie rolls her eyes. "Like, ‘Her eyes were like stars and she… blah blah blah…' You know what I mean."
She plays with the tip of her braid, holding it under her nose like a mustache. "Anyway, you get it… Opposites attract. Hey… if your spy-cam's been in there since Friday, then you've seen them fuck, right?!" Her eyes widen and she shakes Mimi by the shoulder. "Don't you dare tell me you didn't record it! No way I'd believe that! You've got to be recording everything!"
Mimi shifts uncomfortably on the bed, fingers twitching over her laptop keyboard. The screen shows Alex asleep, the mess he made still visible on the pillow. "It's not just that," she mutters, avoiding Wickie's gaze. "They—Kate gets off on calling him her 'baby boy' while she's fucking him. It's—"
Wickie makes a gagging noise. "Ugh, that's fucking disgusting. What is she, his mom or something?" She wrinkles her nose, then grins again. "But okay, fair enough, you've got footage. So what did you see? Come on, spill it. Is he good? Bad?"
Mimi sighs. "Well… he's very gentle. Like, super gentle. The embodiment of gentleness." She tucks her hair behind her ear. "For the most part…" She pauses, catches Wickie's impatient look, and exhales. "He pleasures her a lot, but he rarely has full sex with her. Not in the last three days." She glances at the sleeping Alex on the screen. "It feels like they're romantic teenagers who just started dating."
Wickie snorts. "So he's just some weak little pussy who can't even fuck properly? Damn." She gives Mimi a look of mock pity. "And you call yourself a pervert? You're obsessed with watching some dude who can't even satisfy his girlfriend right. That's pathetic."
Mimi glares. "Hey, I didn't say that. He does fuck her pussy with his dick. They use toys..." She shifts again. "Besides, you're the one who asked. And I told you—he's really gentle with her. He's obsessed with making her feel good."
Wickie rolls her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Some weak-ass romantic who's obsessed with making his girlfriend cum instead of actually fucking her properly. Sounds like he's using his tongue as a dick substitute." She stretches her arms behind her head and yawns loudly. "No wonder they're getting bored. I mean, I know Kate's a romantic, but come on—eventually even she's gonna get tired of being treated like a delicate little flower all the time."
Mimi frowns. "Maybe he just likes to take his time with her. Maybe he likes her too much to rush things."
Wickie snickers. "Uh-huh. Or maybe he's just not confident enough to actually fuck her like a man should." She shifts onto her side, crosses her arms, and smirks at Mimi's defensive posture. "I've seen guys who can't last or don't know what they're doing, but this sounds like he's too scared to do anything with his dick except tease her. Pathetic." She rolls onto her stomach. "You're telling me she's got a boyfriend who can't even fuck her properly? And you're lying here getting all worked up about it?"
Mimi shifts. "I'm not worked up. I'm just... curious."
She pauses, then pokes Wickie with a finger and adds with a sly squint, "And you too, by the way!"
Wickie giggles. "I'm not denying it! But aren't you afraid they'll find the camera? Won't they figure out it's you?" Her tone carries real concern. "It'd be really awkward if you got fired. Renting here's expensive. And who'd take you into another place like Château des Rêves knowing you're a spy? Only Cheryl, maybe, in her fucking estate with ghosts, creepy staff… Seriously—Cheryl and her crew look like the Addams Family in a glam version, with red roses instead of coffins and horny bats in the attics…" She nudges Mimi's shoulder with her forehead. "You get me, bestie."
Mimi sighs dramatically and rolls onto her back, stretching her arms above her head. "I know, I know. I'm being stupid. But... it's just so hot! I can't help watching when I know they're doing it." She bites her lip. "I don't do it all the time. Just sometimes when I get bored."
Wickie snorts. "Oh, I bet. You sit here with your hand down your pants, getting off to them. Pathetic."
Mimi's face burns, but she doesn't deny it. "Shut up! I don't... okay, maybe sometimes. But it's not like I'm obsessed."
Wickie snickers and props herself up on her elbows. "Sure, sure. You just happen to be watching when they fuck or when they're all over each other. And you just happen to keep watching until you come. And you just happen to watch again the next time." She grins wickedly. "You're such a little perv, Mimi. Admit it."
Mimi groans and covers her face with her hands. "Ugh, you're the worst! I can't help it, okay? She's so fucking sexy when she's with him. And he's... he's..."
Wickie rests her chin in her hand. "You like Alex," she says, raising an eyebrow. "Or Kate? Or both?" She giggles and pokes Mimi's shoulder with her fist. "Come on, admit it! If you want to get closer to this couple instead of staying in the background, you'll need to kiss a little ass—Lila, Becky, Amy, or Madi… maybe Daria." Her brown eyes sparkle. "But with Alex, your chances might be better. Especially since his 'Goddess' has discovered a new 'chocolate paradise'…"
Mimi groans again, still covering her face. "I don't know! Maybe both? Is that so weird? They're both gorgeous and..." She trails off, biting her lip. "Kate's so confident and intense, and Alex is... he's just so fucking sweet. The way he looks at her when she's not paying attention—it's..." She shakes her head. "I can't explain it." She peeks through her fingers. "You don't think I'm weird for this, do you?"
Wickie laughs and shakes her head. "Hell no. That's kinda the point of living in this mansion, isn't it?"
February 5, around 5:57 PM. The parking lot near the main building of Château des Rêves.
After saying, "Oh, I'll make sure Shrima sees me… Maybe I'll even tell her all about my plans for tonight, if I see her… Don't worry, I'll be in safe hands… And they'll be in me too. And not just hands…" Kate leaves the room, leaving Alex lying aroused on the giant fold-out couch-bed. A few minutes later, she makes her way downstairs. She decides not to use the elevator, so the descent takes a little longer. She does not want to risk running into any staff members in a confined space—no need for extra gossip right now. Though she knows full well that everyone either already knows, or soon will.
Finally, Kate steps out of the mansion's main building and heads toward the nearby parking lot. Her hair falls down with a gentle side part, slightly wavy at the ends. A stylish black shoulder bag hangs at her side.
The parking lot sits almost empty. By 6 PM on weekdays, most people stay inside Château des Rêves or head out around Dreamside. Among the few scattered cars, Brian waits by a red Acura NSX. Tall and dressed in black suit trousers and a white shirt, his muscular build shows clearly through the fabric. Two young maids pass nearby and cannot help but stare. One nearly twists her neck before both disappear around the corner. Kate approaches with measured steps, her heels clicking against the pavement. Brian watches her, his gaze sliding along her legs, the curve of her hips, the way the dress molds to her body. As she nears, he offers a smirk that looks more appreciative than cocky.
"Damn, you look incredible," he murmurs, opening the front passenger door for her.
Kate moves closer, near enough for him to catch the faint floral notes of her perfume and for her to feel the heat of his body. She meets his eyes, holding them a beat longer than necessary before sliding into the seat. She places her black shoulder bag on the back seat. Brian leans down slightly, one hand on the doorframe. "Thanks," she says, her voice lower than usual, warm with expectation. Her fingers toy with the hem of her red dress as he shuts the door with deliberate care. The car's interior smells of leather and a woodsy cologne.
He rounds the hood and climbs into the driver's seat. For a moment, they simply look at each other—his dark eyes tracing her face, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Tension fills the space between them, charged but not uncomfortable.
"You nervous?" Brian asks.
Kate hesitates for a couple of seconds before answering. Over the past few months, Brian has become almost like a friend to her—ever since Aria introduced them last year at that September 2nd party. Maybe even more than a friend. She has waited eagerly for each weekly party just for the chance to see him. And now, after Aria suggests they start officially dating, and with Alex not against it at all—if anything, it seems to turn him on—Kate feels she can finally give herself over to her feelings completely. "Nervous?" She tilts her head slightly, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. "Maybe a little. Not in a bad way, though." She adjusts the hem of her dress again. "It's new, you know?"
Brian's eyes flick down to her hands for a second before returning to her face. He does not start the car yet. "Yeah, I get that." His voice stays low and smooth. "But I think we both know this ain't exactly starting from scratch, right?" He shifts slightly in his seat, one arm resting on the steering wheel.
Meanwhile, darkness settles in, as it always does around 6 PM in February here. Outside the car windows, the air feels comfortably cool. In the distance, a light shines from one of the staff buildings, and music drifts over—the staff unwinding after another day. Lights glow across all three floors of the main building of Château des Rêves, where Kate lives with Alex and the closest staff. As always in the evenings.
Finally, Kate responds. "Yeah, that's true." Her words come out soft, almost breathless as she watches him. "But there's a difference between knowing something and actually doing it." She fidgets with the hem of her dress again. "You know?"
Brian watches her, his dark eyes flicking across her face. A slow smirk forms on his lips. "I know," he murmurs. "But I'm glad you're not backing out now."
Kate huffs out a small laugh and shakes her head. "Of course not." She shifts in the front passenger seat, turning to face him more directly. "I just..." She pauses, searching for the words. "...I've been waiting for this for a while."
Brian's smirk widens. He reaches over and brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering a second too long. "I know," he says again, voice lower. "I've been waiting too."
Kate's breath catches. Her pulse jumps at the touch. The air between them crackles. She swallows, throat suddenly dry. "So..." She shifts again, pressing her thighs together. "Are we... doing this?"
Brian leans in close. His proximity sends a shiver through her. His cologne—woodsy, subtle, expensive—mingles with the faint scent of his skin. His face hovers just shy of kissing distance.
"You tell me," he murmurs. His fingers slide from her ear to her jaw, tilting her face up. His thumb brushes over her bottom lip. "You know I want to."
Kate's lips part under his touch. Her heart pounds so hard she is sure he can hear it. These feelings feel thrillingly new, almost electric.
"And I want to," she admits softly. Brian's thumb traces the outline of her mouth. His breathing grows slower, heavier. His brown eyes lock onto her blue ones, pupils dilating.
"You're sure?" he asks, though the way his fingers tighten against her jaw makes the answer clear.
Kate nods. Her lips brush his thumb. The contact sends a jolt through her. "Yes," she whispers, voice unsteady.
Brian closes the distance. His lips meet hers in a kiss that is firm, assured, claiming. Kate gasps into his mouth. Her hands fly up to grip his shoulders as he cups the back of her neck. His muscular frame presses against her smaller one as he shifts closer in the driver's seat.
His tongue moves against hers with confident strokes. She moans softly, fingers digging into his white shirt. He tastes like coffee and something uniquely him. She arches into him instinctively. One of his hands slides down from her neck, traces her shoulder, then settles on her hip. He squeezes gently and pulls her closer until she is nearly in his lap.
The kiss turns messier, more desperate. Brian groans low in his throat. Kate whimpers, twisting his shirt as his tongue dominates hers. His hand on her hip moves higher, fingertips brushing her side through the thin fabric of her bright red dress. The minimalistic, classic piece has long sleeves, a fitted bodice, and a flared A-line skirt that ends above the knee. A high neckline with a white pointed collar gives it a preppy touch.
Kate breaks the kiss with a sharp inhale, chest heaving. His fingers pause, waiting. She does not pull away. Instead, she angles her face toward him and parts her lips again, the matte rosy lipstick slightly smudged.
"More," she breathes.
Brian's eyes darken. His thumb traces small circles over her side. His other hand cups the back of her head as he leans in. His mouth crashes into hers with fresh hunger, tongue sweeping past her lips. He nips at her lower lip, then soothes it. She arches her back, pressing into him with a needy sound. Brian growls against her mouth.
"Fuck, you taste good," he murmurs. His hand drifts over the soft fabric of her skirt, following the gentle flare of the A-line folds without lifting the hem.
After several minutes, Kate laughs softly and slides back into her seat. Brian starts the car. They drive off toward the Topanga Canyon Inn.