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word count: 2.8k
[Not Another Cinderella Story Masterlist] • [Membership Stories]
Zoe’s apartment was located in one of the tallest buildings of Tudal. It was in front of one of the few beaches available, its view to the endless stretch of ocean. Miriam rarely came here. Whenever she did, she couldn’t help but feel out of place. She wasn’t rich, she didn’t have a fancy lifestyle. It was easy to get lost in comparing herself to people she would never be. It wasn’t the fact that they were rich that annoyed her.
It was the fact that they always turned a blind eye to people like her, always pretending Tudal was an escapism from everywhere. Here, anyone could be anything they wanted, but only if they were rich enough.
Miriam kept near the buildings to avoid most of the rain as Oscar and Elliot walked behind her. Elliot tried his best to hold an umbrella to protect him and his brother from the heavy rain, but it was useless. He was small, and with the gusts of wind, he was fighting the wind more than he was covering himself.
When they arrived at the lobby of Zoe’s apartment building, Miriam sighed in relief and removed the hood from her jacket, wiping the raindrops from her sleeves and the heavy bag she carried on her shoulder. She couldn’t wait to put it down.
“Give me that.” Oscar grabbed the umbrella from Elliot’s grasp and closed it, shaking it off near the sidewalk to let out most of the water. When he returned inside, he offered the umbrella back to his brother. “There.”
“Are you alright?” Miriam asked, moving closer to her siblings. Most of Oscar’s clothes were soaking wet, not to mention his hair was a mess. “Why didn’t you put on your hood as I told you to? Now you’re going to catch a cold, Oscar.”
“I’m fine,” he said, glancing at Elliot. “Besides, it’s better I’m the one getting sick than Elliot.”
“I don’t want any of you sick,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll ask Zoe if she’ll let you shower at her apartment, but please, don’t stretch her kindness, okay? She’s doing me a favour by letting you stay at her place. I want you to remember you need to behave. This is not our home.”
“Could you imagine if it was?” Elliot said, wiping some of the raindrops from his jacket. “I could have my own room.”
“Keep dreaming about it.” Oscar rolled his eyes and ruffled his brother’s hair before fixing the gym bag on his shoulder. “Until you’re eighteen, you’ll have to share a bedroom with me.”
Elliot tried to tackle his brother as they walked towards the elevators, completely lost in their own world as they chatted with one another. Miriam was happy that Oscar was, at least, on good terms with his younger brother. Whether or not that truce was extended to her was unknown.
“What’s her floor?” Elliot asked as they stepped inside the elevator. “I want to press the button.”
“It’s the top one,” Miriam said, gesturing to the number fourteen on the panel. “Can you reach it?”
“Yes.” Elliot jumped and pressed the button, causing the elevator to shake slightly. He laughed. “It’s not going to fall.”
“I hope not,” Miriam said. “But next time, don’t jump, okay?”
“Okay.” Elliot pouted and leaned on the back of the elevator, next to his brother.
As soon as the elevator reached the top floor, they stepped out and walked to the only door in sight. Miriam took a deep breath and rang the bell.
“Remember to be respectful to Zoe,” Miriam said, warning her siblings. “And don’t destroy anything.”
“I might set her couch on fire, now that you say that.” At Miriam’s wide eyes, Oscar chuckled and patted her shoulder. “Calm down, Miriam. It’s just an idea. And a joke.”
“I hope you never decide to test that idea.” She sighed, facing the door in front of her. “Now, follow Zoe’s rules, okay?”
“Okay, boss!”
“I will behave well,” Elliot said, offering Miriam a thumbs-up. “You’ll be very proud.”
“I look forward to that.” She tapped Elliot’s shoulder. “I look forward to being very proud of you both.”
It didn’t take long for someone to open the front door and for Zoe to greet them with a bright smile.
“Come on in,” she said, stepping aside to allow them to enter her apartment. “Also, take your shoes off and drop them here, and anything you have that is wet from the rain, give it to me so I can put it in the drier.”
“You don’t need to do that,” Miriam said, dropping the bag from her shoulder on the floor. “But can Oscar take a quick shower? His clothes are drenched in rain, and I don’t want him to get sick. They brought pyjamas and a change of clothes, but I understand if you say no.”
Zoe shook her head as she stared at Miriam. “Breathe with me,” she said, placing a hand on each of her friend’s shoulders. She did as her friend suggested. “That’s right. Now, I want you to remember that the three of you are my guests. That’s right. The three of you. And I have a drier that I can use to dry your clothes, and the guest bedroom where Oscar and Elliot will be staying has a bathroom, so he can shower there. And you don’t need to stress. It’s fine. All problems have a solution. Now,” she turned to Oscar and Elliot and smiled, “what kind of pizzas do you want?”
“Extra pepperoni and loads of cheese!” Elliot said, smiling. “Can we also get ice cream?”
“Sure. I think I have some, but if I don’t, I can order some.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Miriam said. “Elliot can survive without ice cream.”
“And I can survive without pizza and ice cream,” Oscar said, earning Zoe’s attention. “Can you tell me where the bedroom is? I want to shower.”
“Sure.” Zoe nodded, giving Miriam a double take. “I’ll show you your bedroom for the evening while your sister prepares the kitchen for her baking evening.”
“Thank you,” Miriam whispered to her best friend.
“The kitchen is yours to use. I’ll meet you in a bit.”
Miriam nodded and waited until her siblings were climbing the stairs after Zoe to take off her shoes and jacket and grab the large bag from the floor. She walked towards the kitchen, defining her game plan for the evening. She would start preparing the recipes that required the dough to rest, then she would work on all the components that needed to stay in the fridge for a while to solidify or gain their shape. Finally, she would work on the ones that could be baked right away, which weren’t a few. Still, she wasn’t used to Zoe’s appliances, so she needed to learn how her oven worked because Miriam was sure it would be a different experience from the oven at Maison du Lavien.
Zoe’s kitchen was Miriam’s dream. The island stretched in the centre of the room, which had an open view of the living room and another passage to the dining room. Most of the appliances were on the wall to Miriam’s right, with the exception of the stove and sink which were on the island. From here, she had a view of the balcony outside of Zoe’s apartment and a wonderful view of Tudal’s downtown and the King’s Palace. From here, with all the lights, Tudal looked like a completely different place.
After taking all of her belongings from the bag and spreading them on the kitchen counter, Miriam twisted her hair in a bun, put on an apron and washed her hands.
As soon as started to work on her recipes, Miriam felt at ease. Nothing like measuring sugar, breaking butter, or watching the eggs blend into the dry ingredients to relax her spirit and mind. On their own, they weren’t anything special, but together, they told a story no one could replace. It was special to have this much power, to be able to create so much goodness seemingly from scratch and share it with people. Part of why Miriam fell in love with baking was because of it. She felt magical whenever she baked. Nothing would ever feel as wonderful as standing in a kitchen working on a recipe while wondering how many people would get to enjoy it. Miriam always made it her mission to give people the best. If she didn’t consider it perfect, then it wasn’t good enough for others.
She just hoped all of these miniature cakes and pastries would turn out as she intended. It had been a while since she baked, but after her dough was covered to rest, Miriam felt confident she would succeed at this. She had to. But she wasn’t pressured by it. Not when she was having this much fun.
As Miriam started to prepare a second batch of dough, she heard Zoe’s voice as she climbed down the stairs talking with someone else with a much deeper voice she didn’t recognise. It took a while for her to understand that they were talking in French, and for a brief moment, Miriam wondered if she wasn’t back in Paris, coming to terms with the fact that her professional life as a baker was only beginning. She was so young and hopeful, so excited about everything ahead of her.
That version of Miriam still lived somewhere inside of her, but it was buried deep within her, replaced by a much more pragmatic version of herself.
“Oh, you’re already baking!” Zoe said as soon as she spotted Miriam in the kitchen. “Will we be able to taste any of your wonderful delicacies tonight?”
Miram pursed her lips as she scanned the counter. “Unlikely. They will be too warm to eat or they won’t be finished. But I’m making extras so I can give you as a thank you for letting me do this.”
“You don’t need to thank me, Miriam. This is what friends are for. We help each other out.” Zoe smiled at her and the man standing next to her cleared his throat, getting Zoe’s attention. “Right. Miriam, this is my older brother, Malcolm. Malcolm, this is my best friend and the best baker in the whole world, Miriam.”
“Hi.” Miriam smiled at him. “Nice to meet you, Malcolm. I didn’t know Zoe had visitors. If I did—”
“Oh, I am more than glad to have you around,” he said, a charming smile greeting his lips. “Zoe has been talking non-stop about you.”
“I have mostly been warning him to not bother you while you’re baking,” she said. “Miriam can get pretty possessive in the kitchen.”
“That’s true.” Miriam let out a small laugh. “Where are Oscar and Elliot?”
“Oh, they’re upstairs in their guest bedroom. Elliot wanted to stay with his brother and get changed into his pyjamas, so I let them stay there. They’re not lost. And I taught them the way back to the lower floor.”
“She also lectured them about not running in the corridor or the stairs,” Malcolm added, earning a glare and a small slap on the shoulder from his sister.
“You did well,” Miriam said. “I hope they behave. If they don’t—”
“They’re kids, Miriam,” Zoe said. “And they seem extremely polite. I mostlylecturedthem because I don’t want them to get hurt. The floor is quite slippery and the stairs are, well, stairs.” She narrowed her eyes on Miriam. “Please, tell me you didn’t fill their ears about being on their best behaviour.”
“I did.” Miriam sighed and grabbed a bowl, moving on with her recipe. “After what happened at Maison du Lavien, I don’t want to risk it.”
“You know that was Levi’s doing. I swear, that man drives me nuts!”
“What isMaison du Lavienand who is Levi?” Malcolm asked, his eyes jumping between Miriam and Zoe.
They exchanged a quick look. “Not versed in Tudal’s history and petty fights?” Miriam asked, smiling at him.
“He knows nothing about this place.” Zoe rolled her eyes and crossed her arms before collapsing on one of the stools on her counter island across from Miriam. “I am pretty sure every single time I spoke to him on the phone about my life here, he chose to not care about it.”
“In all fairness, we rarely speak on the phone. Besides, I never had a chance to visit because of work until now.”
“Are you here for work or taking a vacation?” Miriam asked, measuring her dry ingredients and throwing them into the bowl. She kept a sharp focus on her measurements, attempting to make them as precise as possible.
“I’m working. Kind of.” Malcolm sighed and rubbed the back of his neck before sitting next to his sister. “I am currently on standby.”
When Miriam glanced back at them, it was hard to ignore their similarities. Both siblings had the same set of deep brown eyes, the same nose and charming smile. Even their posture by the counter was similar.
“He’s a journalist,” Zoe said. “Apparently, the news channel he works for is expecting a big announcement from the royal family, but he refuses to tell me what this might be about.”
“Does he even know?” Miriam asked.
“Oh, he knows. I just don’t understand why he doesn’t tell me! It’s not like I can do anything about it.”
“That’s true,” Malcolm said, pursing his lips. After his eyes jumped between Miriam and Zoe for a while, he leaned closer to his sister and whispered, “Rumour has it that, whatever it is, it has to do with Prince Richard.”
“What about him?” Zoe said. “If this is about him becoming the heir to the throne, the world already knows that, Mal.”
“It’s not it.” He shook his head. “My boss believes he is going to announce his engagement.”
“That’s it?” Miriam said, disappointed.
“Were you expecting something else?” Malcolm asked. “Or better, do you know something else?”
“Me?” Miriam chuckled. “No. If I was in charge, I would have abolished this country’s monarchy by now.”
“I thought they were a good thing?” Malcolm asked, his eyes jumping between Zoe and Miriam. “I mean, aren’t tourists always coming here to get a glimpse of the royals?”
“Tourists aren’t Tudalians,” Miriam said. “They can go and return as they please while the rest of us have to deal with the terrible decisions those people take on the behalf of us.”
“What terrible decisions?”
“You’ll see,” Miriam said, dropping her spatula on the kitchen counter. “If you stay long enough, the cracks will start to show. I mean,” she chuckled, “you’re looking at one of them.”
Miriam returned to her baking, trying to abstract herself from her surroundings and this conversation. When her siblings returned to the living room, they were already wearing their pyjamas, talking excitedly about everything around them.
“I guess this is a good time to order pizza?” Zoe asked.
“Sure,” Malcolm said and walked to the couch, sitting next to Elliot and Oscar. “Make sure you ask for a veggie option!”
“I will!” Zoe grabbed her phone and stared at Miriam for a while, her lips turning into a thin line. “Kintsugi,” she said. “Do you know what it is?”
“No.” Miriam shook her head. These conversations were ruining her flow, and she didn’t want to fall behind. “What is it?”
“It’s a traditional Japanese practice used to repair cracked or broken ceramics with gold. The cracks become the highlight, the details that bring everything together again. It’s no longer broken or cracked. It’s reborn.”
“Sounds lovely,” Miriam mindlessly answered, counting her eggs. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you’re cracked. And broken.” Miriam’s eyes met Zoe’s and her friend smiled sadly at her. “And you refuse to let yourself be whole again.”
“I am whole,” Miriam said. “And I don’t need you to fix me.”
“I won’t ever try to fix you, Miriam,” Zoe said. “But if you’re whole, you need to stop referring to yourself as less than that. If you’re whole again, let yourself shine. Stop hiding your cracks. If they’re golden, let them be. You worked hard to mend them together. So own it, Miriam. You owe yourself that. You owe yourself a chance at happiness.”
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