Kvetch

Hazel walked down the stairs only to see someone wearing a black, short, clingy dress. A slit went high up the thigh and a pair of legs clad in high-heeled Cinderella shoes was fully exposed from the thigh. A black jacket hung limp on her arm.

She descended the stairs, asking skeptically in the dark, "Jasmine?"

"Mum." Jasmine turned.

Hazel let out a breath, glancing at the clock, "it's 5:00am, Jasmine. What are you doing here by this time..." She trailed off, realizing what she just asked. "Wait, don't tell me. You are just coming back from work."

She pursed her lips in feigned ignorance, languidly hanging her Jacket on the arm of a couch. "What?"

"Don't what me now, Dear, I know very well when you lie."

"I never said anything that was a lie." Jasmine shrugged and bothered to explain, "this place is the closest, I possibly wouldn't stress myself in driving all the way home when I have a comfortable cocoon to stay in." She walked to the kitchen to make coffee, but glanced over her shoulder to check the clock again. "You're awake by 5."

"Just woke up." Hazel said between yawns. "A cup for me too." She added, but before she realized what she said it was already out her mouth. She put a hand over it in dismay.

The mistake of the century, she thought with a shake of her head. So trying to divert attention, she resulted to chiding Jasmine, "I've told you, stop stressing yourself. Stress is not good for the body and reading piles and piles of paper is not good for your eyes. All these won't affect you until...."

"I'm not ready for your lectures, Mother Dear," Jasmine drawled lazily from the Kitchen, "this is the nth time I'm hearing those. Seriously, stop!"

Her voice bounced off the walls and echoed subtly, since the Servants had exited the House.

Hazel shook her head again.

Jasmine emerged from the Kitchen, holding a tray with two mugs on it. Hazel helped herself to one, gulping.

If there was anything Jasmine, her Daughter, was bad at, being in the Kitchen was one of them. The girl simply was horrible at cooking! It just wasn't for her!

She didn't learn. Never tried to learn. Not after she had almost burnt Baxter on a cooking experiment in Kimberly's Mansion. After that, everyone did everything possible to take her away from the Kitchen before she destroyed something else. One more time. Probably a bigger damage in which she would fully succeed.

But unfortunately, she had wanted something to drink so bad, it slipped from her mouth without her realizing it on time.

She was even surprised Jasmine had nothing damaged.

It didn't make her cooking any more abysmal than before just because she didn't burn anything, however.

Hazel took the cup from her and started staring into it. She was left to only think of how not to drink it.

"I never knew my Daughter dressed like she's going to the Gala Night Awards just to work." She suddenly said, looking up eagerly at Jasmine's stoic face.

Jasmine could only think that was one bad way to avoid something.

Deciding not to reply to that, she asked instead, "where's dad?"

"Upstairs. Sleeping."

"Hmm."

The silence stretched and Jasmine wasn't ready to break it. She slowly sipped her coffee, enjoying the tingly burning sensation it had on her tongue.

Hazel had started stirring the coffee, making sounds of metal hitting glass, a bit unpleasant.

She made another try, "you don't talk much about Beryl, lately, Jasmine." She stopped stirring the coffee. Jasmine put a lot of effort to stop herself from telling her to continue. Though the noise was unpleasant, she had grown used to hearing it for that period of time.

She looked away, bringing the mug to her lips. "Never talked about her often."

"Yeah, but she usually called you all the time, to kvetch about this or the other." She smiled a little at the memory.

Reaching out to caress the top of the Counter in abandon, Jasmine raised a shoulder as she said, dryly, "we have our own lives. And if you don't want to drink that, get it out my sight."

"Fine, fine." Hazel surrendered. Bringing the cup to her lips, she took a mouthful with her eyes half closed. When she gulped it down, she opened her eyes fully and took another mouthful. She looked at her Daughter in disbelief. "Who taught...." Before she could finish, Jasmine picked up her phone and waved it at her.

Hazel's brows shot up. "Don't tell me you browsed how to make coffee."

"Fine, I won't tell." Jasmine had that wicked glint in her eyes. She chugged the last drop of coffee and set the cup on the table. "I'm tired." She got up, dragging her own body up the stairs lazily.

"Hey, no goodnight hug?!" Hazel shouted after her.

"Tired. Go to bed."

"You're tired and you just drank coffee." No response. "Silly girl." She mumbled with a satisfied smile on her lips.

-----

Jasmine opened the door to her room.

She walked to the bed slowly. She was drained, physically and mentally, but those were the least of her problems. Something else was.

She sat on her bed and all the muscles in her body screamed at her to, at least, feel the softness of the bed, but no. If she did, she wouldn't be able to get up, she still had to go to the company in less than 40 minutes.

Stifling a yawn made her remember she needed to brush. She removed her shoes, tossed it to the side and wiggled her toes, stretching the tensed muscles.

She walked to the bathroom, feeling finally freed from the shoes. It was good she had some of her stuff here.

When she was done brushing her teeth, she needed someone to fix her bath... Where were the Worker? Shouldn't they be awake 24/7? She walked out of the bathroom, but immediately she opened her door, she saw one of them.

"Young miss!" The young servant exclaimed involuntarily in shock. They had not heard someone come in, then how was the Young Miss here... She shook herself to professionality immediately. "I hope you had a goodnight sleep."

"Your name?"

Her head shot up instantly, thinking why the Young Miss would ask for her name. She supplied it anyways, "Mira, Miss."

"Fix my bath."

"Right away, My Lady." She walked off hurriedly and Jasmine saw her shoulders sagging out of relief.

She smirked. Was she such a monster? Wait till they saw the real her.

No sooner had she turned her back to go inside, had Mirabel got back with a couple other maids behind her.

"Good Morning...."

"Shut up and just do your work."

"Sorry, ma'am." Mira apologized on behalf of others. Looked like she led them.

Jasmine walked into the room, leaving the door to close behind her and Mira almost bumped her nose.

She was seriously drained, she walked to her dressing table and sagged into it, and while waiting for them to fix her bath, she picked up her phone.

'Everything going good?' Jasmine.

'Excellent.' Gemma.

'The pilots?' Jasmine.

'Set and ready for tomorrow.' Gemma.

'After this, go on a nice, long leave.' Jasmine.

'Seriously?' Gemma.

'Sorry, thank you so much.' Gemma.

'Inform Norma before you leave.' Jasmine.

'Okay, Ma'am. Thank you so much, Ma'am. I'll leave after the shooting, Ma'am.' Gemma.

Too much Ma'aming. Jasmine clicked her tongue.

'Your choice.' Jasmine.

'Thank you.' Gemma.

She heard feet shuffling, then someone behind her and incoherent murmur.

When she turned, the girl looked down immediately. She appeared naïve, curious, but afraid for her age. And was that a tinge of bravery?

She narrowed her eyes, getting interested. "Name?"

"Pamela, ma'am."

"Age?"

"24, My Lady."

"Still, you behave stupidly."

She bent lower. "Sorry, Ma'am." And here she was thinking the Miss wanted to say something good.

Jasmine, tired of making the girl nervous, got up and walked lackadaisically to the bathroom with Pamela behind her.

She just didn't like people murmuring incoherently behind her.

It was creepy.

As if someone was muttering a Spell.

She got into the bathtub after the dress was taken off her, and her skin was being scrubbed, gentle-hard.

She rested her head at the edge of the tub and closed her eyes savoring the feel of Pamela's hand massaging her head.

"Can I say something?"

A voice floated to her ears and she smirked, "you seem to be brave, Pamela."

"You're...."

"Shhh. Did she tell you to speak yet?" Someone chided her.

"Your name, Chider."

Her eyes widened. What trouble had she created for herself? "M-Miral, My Lady."

"Stop stammering." Another whispered.

"And I'm sure your name will be Miraline?" Jasmine said to her.

They giggled.

"No, My Lady, it's Kara."

They lapsed into silence.

"You're beautiful, My Lady." Pamela broke it. She expected a smile or something, but,

Jasmine opened her eyes slightly, "too much talk." She closed it.

"Sorry, My Lady."

Minutes later

Jasmine was done dressing. She was wearing a white, handless jumpsuit. It had large straight slits at the side and a circle slit filled with laces from the hips to the feet, which were tied into beautiful ribbons. Her height was complimented by 6 inch, black, transparent-heeled Ego heels and a black Louis Vuitton bag. Her appearance screamed wealth as her heels thudded down the stairs. Hazel was still awake.

"Off to work, Mum."

She got up. "Are you seriously serious Jasmine? You just got back..."

"So?" She grabbed her sunglasses. Hazel sighed in resignation as she pinned her down with a stare. "I'm a busy Woman, try to understand. You were once in my shoes. Your worries only make me feel like I'm doing something wrong."

Hazel didn't know what to say. She just took Jasmine by the hand and pressed a kiss to her fore-head. "It's not wrong, but I just can't help worry for my Daughter." Jasmine looked away. "I was once in your shoes, you will be in mine when you become a Mother."

Jasmine looked out the window of her Car as her Anthony drove, feeling something move in her Chest. She rubbed to ease the discomfort.

It remained.