Song: The King // Conan Gray

I know the past few chapters have been boring, so I really hope you enjoy this one!

•••

THREE WEEKS LATER

I woke up at three in the morning from another fucking nightmare. This time, it wasn't about the robber. There was no man, no Adam, and no gun. The dream started off with me entering a modern office. The chair's back was facing me and there seemed to be someone sitting on it. I hesitantly took a seat on the chair in front of the desk and waited for the figure to show itself.

I leaned forward to try and peer behind the chair, "Hello? Ms. Krawford?"

The sound of a malicious laugh filled the atmosphere. The person sitting behind the desk turned around to face me. Her lips were tugged up into a sinful grin, her white teeth shining in the dim room. Her fingers were spread across the armrests, and her purple acrylic nails made me feel uncomfortable.

"Did you really think I'd actually hire you?" She sneered, tilting her head mockingly. "Your entire life has been a pathetic attempt at perfection, Amber. Your resume was laughable– you barely have enough experience to be a receptionist. What makes you think you have it in you to replace me– to become editor-in-chief?"

The scene changed from the dimly lit office to an apartment. I could see myself, swaying a baby in my arms. I had bags and dark circles under my eyes, my hair was a mess and so was the entire apartment. I looked dead– there was no light in my eyes and my behavior was borderline apathetic.

I wasn't myself anymore, and the thought alone made me wake up with a cold sweat.

A few hours after I woke up, I started feeling nauseous and threw up whatever I had for dinner last night. I crawled back into bed and urged my headache to magically disappear, but if anything, it became worse as the hours passed.

At seven, I heard the bedroom door creak open. My back was facing the entrance, so I couldn't tell who'd come in. Seconds later, someone ran into my room and jumped onto my bed. They crawled towards me and ripped the blankets off my body.

"Tata! Come on, it's time for breakfast!" Antoine squealed, shaking my shoulder with his tiny hands.

I winced at his high-pitched voice mixed with the shaking– my headache was practically migrating to my eyes now. I flipped myself over and smiled at the sight of my nephew in his school uniform. His curly hair was unruly, just like his mother's, and his lips were tugged up to a teeth-bearing grin.

"Bonjour, tata!"

I reached over and wrapped my arms around his small figure, pulling him down to me. I tightened my hold on him and peppered kisses on his forehead, making him squirm and giggle.

"Bonjour, mon chouchou," I replied into his head of hair.

"Papa is making waffles today!" He exclaimed excitedly, and I had to refrain from scrunching up my face at how my headache managed to intensify because of his yell.

"That sounds delicious," I said softly, tilting my head to the door. "Allons-y à la cuisine." 

I stood up from the mattress, and Antoine took that as an invitation to jump onto my back. I stumbled forward at the impact, a small 'oof' escaping my lips, and looked over my shoulder to find him looking at me with a smile.

"Piggy-back ride!" He said, pointing at the direction of the bedroom door.

I sighed and shook my head playfully, "D'accord."

I readjusted my hold on him and wrapped his arms around my neck so he had a good grip on me. With my arms hooked under his knees, I made my way out of my bedroom. I'd occasionally jump, which made him giggle uncontrollably as he bounced on my back. Ignoring my headache, I carefully made my way down the stairs.

As we neared the kitchen, the scent of waffles became stronger, which worsened my nausea. The twins were strapped into the stroller, which sat outside the kitchen by the counter. Rose was preparing her coffee while Dylan was distributing the waffles onto plates.

"Mama, papa, look!" Antoine exclaimed from my back, effectively grasping the attention of both his parents. "Tata is like a horsie."

Rose chuckled as Dylan moved out of the kitchen to pluck his son off of my back, "We don't call our aunts horsies, Tony." Rose reprimanded, her eyes shining with amusement.

"We also don't make them carry us when they're pregnant," Dylan added, but, for some reason, he directed the comment at me. My brother placed Antoine on the stool and pulled a plate of waffles with Nutella in his direction.

I walked into the kitchen and rummaged through the cupboards until I found a pack of Panadol. I took two out of the package and got a glass of water to help wash down the pills. After swallowing them, I closed my eyes and hoped that it would do something to stop the pounding of my head.

I opened my eyes when I felt somebody rub my back, "Are you feeling alright, sweetheart?" Rose asked softly.

"It's a stick-up, sweetheart."

I hated that Rose couldn't call me that without my brain automatically thinking of the guys that robbed me. Could things just go back to normal? I wanted to live my life without the fear of being held at gunpoint; without thinking of him whenever Rose called me 'sweetheart'.

"Yeah," I forced out, plastering a smile onto my face. "Just a headache."

Dylan walked up to us and stood by Rose, who was looking at me worryingly. Dylan studied my features before frowning, "You've been getting a lot of headaches lately, Bee. Are you sure you don't want to go to the doctor?"

I waved my hand dismissively, "It's just a headache, you guys. Don't worry about it."

Rose pursed her lips, "Amber, honey, you don't look well either. I think we should go to Doctor Otieno." She was referring to my obstetrician. The same obstetrician who gave me a list of symptoms to look out for a couple of weeks ago. Two of them being headaches and nausea.

I nodded reassuringly, "I'll go, but I've got plans today."

"And you can't cancel them?" Dylan asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Nope," I replied with a shake of my head. "Guys, seriously, I'm fine." I made my way past them to open the fridge. I pulled the container of sliced fruits Rose always prepared and scooped the salad into the bowl.

"You're not going to eat your waffles, tata?" Antoine asked, his eyes wide with awe.

I shook my head, "Non, mon cher." Before Dylan could say anything, I looked over my shoulder and gave him an explanation. "I just can't stomach it right now. Maybe I'll be able to eat it later."

Dylan nodded in understanding, "Alright, Bee." Then he looked at his son who had chocolate smeared across his face and grimaced. "Tony, go wipe your face down. We're leaving in a bit."

Antoine nodded enthusiastically and jumped off the stool, running in the direction of the washroom. I took a bite out of my pineapple, shaking my head in a questioning manner when I caught my brother staring at me.

He sighed, his shoulders sagging, "Having consistent headaches isn't normal Bee."

"Dylan, I promise I'll go to Doctor Otieno tomorrow, okay?"

He nodded his head, "I'm coming with you."

Rose placed a reassuring hand on her husband's shoulder and squeezed it before looking at me, "We're still on for today, right?"

Rose, Dylan, and I were going shopping for baby things. I'm talking about maternity clothes, baby toys, and other shit they'd help me figure out. It was supposed to be me and Rose, but Dylan somehow found out and invited himself.

"Yeah," I replied, picking up an orange with the fork. "My plans end right before it."

Dylan narrowed his eyes as Antoine ran into the kitchen with his backpack, "Are you going to tell us what these plans are?"

I shook my head in amusement, "Maybe," I said, getting up from the stool. "Maybe not."

I ruffled my nephew's hair before walking straight out of the kitchen. I needed to do two things: plan an outfit and figure out a way to get rid of my headache before my interview.

•••

At first, choosing an outfit was therapeutic for me. After locking the closet's door, I played my music and bopped my head to the beat as I danced around the room trying to put something together. Everything was going splendid until I went to put my pants on.

They didn't fit. I sucked in my stomach, bent forward, and tried my best to button it up, but it just wouldn't budge. The minute I glanced at the mirror, my eyes widened once I realized why they didn't fit.

My belly was beginning to show.

It wasn't anything big– it just looked like I've overstuffed myself when I had breakfast. But now, it was permanent; I wouldn't be able to get rid of this until I gave birth. I studied myself in the mirror, angling my body differently to see what it looked like from different perspectives.

I groaned and chucked my pants on the floor out of frustration.

Normally, the only factors I considered when I got dressed were the weather and where I was going. Now, I'd also have to consider the fact that my belly would only continue to grow. Inhaling a deep breath, I tried to calm myself down.

The fact that most of my pants wouldn't fit wasn't a problem. It wasn't like this would be the most important interview of my life. The way I looked mattered– it was a fashion magazine for fuck's sake, and my outfits always helped me feel confident.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I closed my eyes and tried to mentally put together an outfit– this time, I considered my pregnancy. After five minutes, I finally figured something out and went to work putting it together.

Satisfied with the way it looked, I put it on and sat on the chair in front of the vanity. I went to work trying to conceal the dark circles under my eyes. I didn't usually wear make-up, but when I did, it was only to hide things I didn't want to be seen. I styled my curly hair by putting oils into it and braiding it into a half-up crown braid.

I studied myself in the mirror for a while before deciding I was happy with the way I looked. I texted Isaac, informing him I was ready, and he replied saying that he just passed by security. I grabbed my purse and hurried downstairs, grabbing the waffle from this morning and wrapping it in a paper towel.

Once I opened the front door, I found Isaac pulling into the driveway. I locked the door behind me and went down the steps before stepping into his car.

"Good morning, my love," Isaac greeted with a wink as he stepped down on the gas.

I chuckled and buckled in my seatbelt. I handed him the waffle as I replied with a, "Thank you for picking me up, Isaac."

He gasped at the sight of the waffle and placed a palm on his chest. He glanced at me from the corner of his eye, "Did I tell you that you look absolutely gorgeous today?"

I flipped my hair over my shoulder and shot him a smug smile, "I always do."

He shrugged one shoulder, "Eh," He replied playfully before taking a bite out of the breakfast food. "You nervous for the interview?"

"As shit," I replied shakily. I rolled my shoulders to try and loosen them. I leaned my head against the headrest and closed my eyes to attempt to rid myself of the headache that wasn't going away or worsening.

"They'd be stupid to not hire you," He told me as he reached a hand over to grasp my hand in his. He squeezed it once, "Maybe if you get her a waffle, she'll hire you on the spot."

I laughed at his attempt to make me feel better. The faint sound of pop music streaming from the radio station filled the car and it was enough to relax me a bit. I inhaled a deep breath and released it, before repeating the action.

"Amber," Isaac started, his grip on my hand loosening slightly. "Everything will go smoothly, alright? I don't know anybody more qualified for this position than you."

"Yeah, but that's because I'm your only friend," I said through a breathy laugh.

"How many friends I have is none of your business," He snapped defensively. I opened an eye and glanced at him. He replied by rolling his eyes and retracting his hand from mine. "If it does go to shit, which it will not, just wreak the-old-fashioned Amber-style havoc. I'm talking telling them why they're wrong, cursing them out, and potentially– but probably– insulting them."

"Classic Amber?" 

"Classic Amber." He confirmed with a nod. "Remember when you went ballistic on me when I told you that since Nick paid for your nuggets they were also mine because he's my brother?"

My eyes fluttered open at the memory and a smile tugged at my lips. Isaac did a doubletake when he saw my grin, "You're smiling now, but I can assure you that I wasn't when you fucking kicked me in the nuts."

"That's because you were still eating them as I yelled at you! You ate six of my nine nuggets, Zac!" I defended before choosing to add, "I was like ten anyways."

"Your age does not excuse your unnecessary hostility and stupidity," He harumphed as he flicked his blinkers on to signal a turn. "I still stand by my logic; my brother, his money, my food."

"My nuggets, my food," I corrected with a fake scowl. The car slowed down into a drop-off zone in front of an intimidatingly tall skyscraper. I glanced out the door and gulped. 

"Well, this is it I guess."

"You're going to do great, my love," Isaac reassured me in a soft voice. He cocked his head in the direction of the entrance as his features softened. "But if you don't, remember, it's their loss, not yours. You can accomplish great things with or without them."

I leaned over the console and gave him a kiss on the cheek, "Thanks, Zachy."

With a shaky breath, I threw open the car's door and stepped out. He winked at me before giving me a thumbs up. The corner of my lip tugged up at his support and, with a wave good-bye, I turned around and walked in through the revolving glass doors.

The skyscraper's lobby was decorated as simply, yet elegantly, as possible. The walls and floors were made of beige ceramic tiles that spanned the width and height of the room. The walls that faced the outside of the tower were replaced by floor-to-ceiling windows. Black seats and coffee tables were stationed inside the lobby, right next to the windows. The receptionist's desk was a simple, white, counter that held a computer and business cards.

You can do this. You're Amber fucking Amity and this job was made for you.

I repeated those words in my head as I walked up to the receptionist's table with a straightened back, head held high, and squared shoulders– confidence, confidence, confidence. The receptionist smiled once she caught sight of me.

She folded her hands atop the desk, "Hello, welcome to Fashionistique. How can I help you?"

I cleared my throat, "Hi. I'm Amber Amity and I've got an interview with Kelly Krawford."

The receptionist nodded and picked up the phone to make a call. I tuned her out as I glanced down at my outfit. My pregnancy belly barely showed since the blazer drowned it out. My heart was beginning to hammer against my chest and I could feel my headache resurfacing.

Nobody is more qualified for this position than you, I recited Isaac's words in an attempt to calm my anxiety.

"Ms. Amity?" The receptionist called out, effectively snapping me out of my thoughts. With a smile, she pointed at the elevators with an open palm. "Ms. Krawford is ready for you."

I thanked her and walked towards the lifts as I tried to regulate my breathing.

Nobody is more qualified for this position than you.

•••

I rolled my eyes as I pocketed my phone. Isaac was in the driver's seat, humming along to a pop song playing as he drove me towards the mall where I planned to meet Rose, Dylan, and my niece and nephews.

Isaac glanced at me from the corner of his eyes before snickering, "Dylan takes first place when it comes to being an unnecessarily worried older-brother-slash-ex-legal-guardian."

"I swear," I agreed, leaning back against the seat. My eyes flickered from the radio to the driver, "Your taste in music is shit by the way."

He rolled his eyes, "I'm sorry I don't like your emo shit. Your music makes me depressed and gives me a headache."

"Fuck you," I replied defensively as I crossed my arms under my chest. 

"I'm not into you like that," He retorted cheekily as he toyed with the knob to change the radio station. It was now on a channel that played classical music. "Remember when you made me listen to that band? The Polar Bears–"

I cut him off, "The Arctic Monkeys," I corrected with a snap. I narrowed my eyes at him. "If you're going to claim to be my best friend, you might as well know who my favorite musicians are."

He clicked his tongue, "Maybe if you had a good taste, I would."

I gasped, completely offended by his statement, "I'm not going to take shit from somebody who enjoys listening to DJ Khaled."

His face contorted to express a mix of confusion and bafflement, "The fuck's wrong with him?" He asked incredulously as he pulled into the parking lot.

I waited for him to park the car before throwing it open, "The man does nothing but make false claims through his music." I replied before slamming the door shut and making my way towards the mall entrance.

I heard the car's engine shut off before a door opened and closed, "He does no such thing!" Isaac yelled as he ran to catch up with me.

I snorted, "'We the best music'? I think the fuck not." I imitated the producer with a deep voice before snarkily commenting, pulling my phone out from my blazer to text Dylan to ask him where the fuck he was.

Isaac started patting his pockets as a look of confusion overtook his face. I furrowed my eyebrows, "What are you looking for?" I asked.

He paused as he rummaged through his pocket. Then, with an emotionless face, he looked me in the eye and said, "For who asked for your opinion." He deadpanned.

My jaw dropped and he poked his tongue out. I made a move to kick him, and he yelped, jumping away from my foot to dodge it. My phone buzzed in my hand, and I rolled my eyes at the sight of the location. Why wouldn't Dylan be at the fast-food place?

Without informing Isaac of where we were going, I left him behind as I made my way towards the food court. He started calling for me, but I ignored him and continued walking. I heard the faint sound of footsteps before an arm was flung across my shoulder. Not making a move to push it off, I tuned his questions out as I followed the path to the food court I'd memorized.

Three minutes later, we were standing in front of a sea of tables, chairs, and fast-food places. I scanned the area for the sight of my family, and I found them sitting by a wall. Antoine was in his school uniform, munching on a Happy Meal while the two parents spoon-fed their newborns. Rose was in her nurse scrubs and Dylan was wearing his usual suit sans the tie and blazer.

Isaac and I maneuvered around the chairs before we reached them. Antoine was the first to notice me, and his eyes widened when he saw me, "Tata!" He exclaimed before his eyes fell on the idiot beside me. "Zac!"

"Hey, little man," Isaac greeted, ruffling his hair before taking in my brother and Rose. "Hey, guys."

Dylan narrowed his eyes, "Where were the both of you?"

I pulled out a seat beside Rose and sat down, "The proper, and polite, response is 'Hi, Isaac. How are you?'." I quipped as I tickled Cody's sides as a form of greeting.

Isaac took a seat beside Dylan and nodded in agreement, "You need to set a good example for your children, Dill Pickle."

My brother scowled at the nickname while Rose giggled at our exchange. She reached for a wrap on Antoine's messy tray of McDonald's food and handed it to me. She glanced at Isaac before frowning, "I'm sorry, hun, we didn't know you were coming so we didn't think to get something else."

He flapped his hand, clearly unworried, and leaned back into the plastic chair, crossing a leg over the other, "Don't worry about it, Rose. I can't eat anything from here anyways. I'm on a strict diet, and if I don't follow it, coach will end me and my career."

"So, are you guys just going to ignore my question?" Dylan asked, his gaze flickering from me to Isaac. He was bouncing his leg, making Céline jump up and down, which made her erupt in a fit of giggles. "Were you guys on a date or something?"

I paused, my wrap hovering inches around from my mouth. A laugh threatened to escape my lips, but I caught Isaac's eye and he winked before looking at Dylan, "I believe that that is none of your business."

I snorted as I watched my brother's ears turn red. He glared at Isaac, "If I didn't have a baby in my arms, I would've found a way to personally end your career as a football player." He hissed.

Isaac's eyes widened in alarm and he shot me a panicked look. I took a bite out of my wrap and rolled my eyes, "He's all bark and no bite." I assured him after swallowing the food.

"In other words, a major softie," He reiterated with a nod of understanding. Rose laughed at his comment, which made her husband frown. "If you must know, I was busy playing chauffeur."

"Oh?" Rose chirped, raising both of her eyebrows questioningly. She glanced at me and tilted her head, "Where did you go?"

"Somewhere," I replied vaguely, taking another bite of my sandwich as Isaac snorted.

Dylan leaned over to wipe his son's mouth with a napkin, but he was looking right at me when he said, "Can you never answer a question coherently?" He sounded exasperated which made me smile.

"I was signing a contract," I informed him before looking at Antoine with a pout. "Would you like to give your favorite tata some of your frites?"

Antoine beamed as he picked up his pack of fries to give to me. I grabbed a small amount before blowing him a kiss as a form of gratitude. Dylan and Rose were both staring at me in confusion while Isaac eyed the wrap in my hand with mild interest.

"A contract? Why?" Rose asked.

"Isn't that what you do when you're hired for a new job?" I asked rhetorically, a smile tugging up at my lips. Rose and Dylan blinked before the former squealed, catching the attention of her oldest son, who was staring at her with horror. I don't think he has ever heard her make that kind of noise.

"You got the job?" Dylan questioned, but by the grin on my face, he clearly knew the answer. 

Isaac waved his hand in the air, "Yeah, yeah, old news," He interrupted as he stared at me pleadingly. He cocked his chin towards the wrap in my hands, "Can I have a bite of that?"

Dylan slapped him upside the head, but I gave him the sandwich anyways. He grinned happily before taking a bite out of the chicken escalop wrap. My brother stood up from his seat and wade his way over to me. His hand wrapped around my forearm and he pulled me up before engulfing me in a hug.

"I'm super proud of you, Bee," He murmured into my hair while Céline gurgled in his hold. "I told you that you were going to get the position."

I stepped back from his arms and grinned, "You're looking at the new editor for Fashionistique." I exclaimed with glee, glancing between him and Rose, who was looking up at me with a proud look.

"I'm so happy for you, hun," Rose said, her words dripping with sincerity. Dylan kissed the top of my head before returning to his seat. I leaned over to retrieve my wrap from the hands of Isaac. The man was devouring it like he hasn't eaten in days. "So, Paris, huh?"

"Not for a while," I informed her before glancing at Dylan. "I told her about my pregnancy and she agreed to let me start three months after giving birth. My new position will be temporarily assigned to someone else."

Dylan grinned at the news, "So you're not leaving?" He asked, just to make sure.

My eyes darted around the table, taking in my family, and I shook my head with a fond smile, "Looks like I'm going to be stuck with you guys for a bit longer."

Rose clapped in excitement, and reached out to give me a side hug.

"Tata?" Antoine called out from the head of the table. I glanced at him and furrowed my eyebrows questioningly. "What does pregnancy mean?"

Isaac and I laughed at the question and at the sight of Dylan and Rose's pale faces.

•••

– 03/07/20

Happy July Y'all!

I'm going off to uni in a while and I'm fucking pumped.

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Things are going to start speeding up from here on out.