Morning Worries & Measured Punches
Caitlyn lay sprawled across her bed, the soft morning light creeping in through the curtains. It was 8 AM, and despite her exhaustion, sleep refused to return. She tossed and turned, frustrated by the quiet stillness that seemed to be pressing in on her. With a resigned sigh, she slid her legs off the bed, determined to start the day. Just as she was about to stand, her phone buzzed, jolting her from her thoughts. Confused, Caitlyn glanced down at the screen.
“Why is Aunt Isolde calling me so early?” she quietly wondered, furrowing her brow. But despite her surprise, a warm smile tugged at her lips—Aunt Isolde was always a pleasure to talk to. Always. She swiped the screen and answered, “Hello?”
A raspy cough came through before Isolde’s voice emerged. “Caity, darling, it’s Isolde,” she said, her tone rough but familiar.
“Oh, are you alright?” Caitlyn asked immediately, concern threading her voice.
“I'm fine, love, just this blasted weather,” Isolde replied, coughing again as she tried to brush off the worry. The familiar excuse—blame it on the miserable English weather—hung in the air, and though Caitlyn wasn’t entirely convinced, she let the topic drop.
Caitlyn chuckled softly, brushing off the concern. “Auntie, what’s got you calling so early? You know it’s 8am here? Is everything alright?”.
Isolde’s voice had a playful edge as she retorted, “What? I can’t just call my niece for no reason? 8am is a perfect time for us to call, what better way to start your day than a phone call from your favourite auntie, hmm?”
Caitlyn just laughed in response to her auntie’s antics, She wasn’t wrong though, this was the best way to start her day as she waited for Vi to finish school and come over.
“Caity, dear, I just…I miss you terribly - and I still worry about you, everyday. Are you sure you don’t want to come back to England?”
“I miss you too, Auntie,” Caitlyn replied warmly, exhaling as she paced her room, trying to shake off the nerves building in her chest. “But I really do want to stay here.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line before Isolde’s teasing tone came through. “Anything to do with that 'someone around' in your life?” she quipped, the playful lilt in her voice unmistakable.
Caitlyn chuckled, the sound light and a little embarrassed at her aunt’s inquisitive but endearing prying. The familiar teasing always made her feel safe, even as her heart fluttered with anticipation. Taking a steadying breath, she decided that now was the time. “Actually, Auntie,” she began, her voice softening with genuine affection, “there’s someone…someone very important to me.”
“Her name is Violet,” Caitlyn began hesitantly, her voice soft over the phone.
“Violet? That’s such a beautiful name,” Isolde replied warmly.
“Yeah, but… everyone calls her Vi,” Caitlyn continued, her voice growing more animated, a softness creeping into her words. She paused before continuing, looking out the window as if searching for the right words. “She’s not like anyone I’ve met before, Auntie. Vi’s a caring soul she makes me feel safe, like she sees me not as some princess bound by expectations but as just… me. It’s not easy to explain, but when I’m around her, I feel like I’m seen for who I really am - no masks or obligations. I’ve never had that before.” Caitlyn’s words flowed with an honesty that left her feeling exposed yet lighter, each sentence revealing just how much Vi had come to mean to her.
There was a quiet pause on the line, Isolde’s gentle hum urging Caitlyn to go on. Caitlyn’s tone lightened as a soft giggle escaped her. “Actually, when we first started talking,” she confessed, a note of amusement threading through her words. “Back then, Vi had no idea who I really was - she didn’t know I was a princess or anything like that. We just talked, and it was so genuine, so unfiltered. It felt like I could be whoever I wanted to be without all the pretence.”
Isolde’s warm laughter came through, full of tender pride. “Oh, Caity, that sounds simply wonderful.”
Caitlyn’s smile was audible even over the phone. “It really is, Auntie. With Vi, everything feels real - like I’m finally free.”
“Does Violet know now?” Isolde asked, her tone tentative over the line.
Caitlyn hesitated, puzzled by the question. “What do you mean? Haven’t you seen the videos, Auntie?” Her confusion grew as a light tension crept into her chest.
Isolde seemed to fumble for an excuse, her next words coming out a little too quickly. “Oh, well, you know, I—I've been so busy with other things," she said with a forced chuckle. "And Mel hasn’t kept me in the loop recently."
Caitlyn’s brow furrowed slightly, but she didn’t press. She knew that wasn’t the whole truth, but with a deep breath, she chose not to dive into it. Instead, she answered Isolde’s question.
“I think Mel’s plan is to name Vi as my friend in the next press release from the palace once Mel arrives here," Caitlyn replied lightly, doing her best to finish the topic. There was a long pause on the other end, and when Isolde spoke again, her voice seemed more reserved, notably quieter.
“Ah, I see,” Isolde hummed, though there was a flatness in her tone that Caitlyn couldn’t ignore. Sensing the change, Isolde quickly shifted the topic. “Will you be seeing Violet soon?” she asked, her voice a bit too bright, as if she hoped Caitlyn wouldn’t notice her altered mood.
Caitlyn smiled softly to herself, trying to ease the tension. “Yes, Auntie. Vi’s sleeping over at the estate tonight - with me.”
“Wonderful!” Isolde’s tone immediately brightened. “Can you call me again when she arrives?”
“Uh, why?” Caitlyn asked, puzzled by the sudden request.
Isolde chuckled, though a slight cough interrupted her before she continued, “Because I want to meet her properly. I mean, you’ve given me absolutely no details about what she looks like, and this old gal wants to know everything about the someone special in her favourite niece's life”
Caitlyn rolled her eyes playfully. “I'm your only niece, Auntie.”
“Exactly!” Isolde replied, her tone determined yet teasing.
Caitlyn laughed softly. “Alright, alright. I promise I'll call you when she arrives.”
No sooner had Caitlyn spoken than Isolde was hit by a sudden coughing fit. Between coughs, she managed, “I— I love you, Caity…”
Caitlyn’s voice softened, “Love you too, Auntie.”
Through another bout of coughing, Isolde tried to add, “I'll talk to you soon…”
They exchanged a few more hurried goodbyes before the line went dead, leaving Caitlyn with a mix of warmth and a trace of concern. Caitlyn sat there for a moment, a lingering unease tugging at her heart. She wasn’t sure if it was nerves about introducing Vi to Isolde or something odd about her aunt’s tone that unsettled her. Still, the warmth in her chest—knowing that both Vi and Isolde cared so deeply for her—propelled her forward into the day.
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Vi sat slouched in her seat, her AirPods snug in her ears, the music turned up high. The familiar beat pulsed through her, a steady rhythm that usually drowned out the world. But even through the music, she could still hear the whispers. The stolen glances. The weight of eyes lingered on her as she walked through the halls.
It felt like last year.
Except—strangely—it didn’t.
Last year, the stares had burned, the whispers had cut deep, the isolation had swallowed her whole. Back then, Sarah had been at school too—present, yet completely ignoring her, as if Vi were nothing but a ghost. That silence had been worse than the rumours. It had made her feel like she had no one.
But now, even with Caitlyn nowhere in sight, Vi felt… okay.
Better than okay, even.
She could still feel Caitlyn’s support wrapped around her like armour, steady and unshaken. The difference was stark. Caitlyn saw her, stood by her, wanted her. Vi wasn’t alone this time.
Still, the murmurs persisted as she walked past.
“Woof woof, puppy.”
“ooh watch out here comes the guard dog”
“She’s hopeless if she thinks she has a chance with a literal celebrity”
The words caught her ear more than once, muttered under breaths, exchanged in knowing looks.
Vi smirked. Guard dog? She supposed it wasn’t far off. She wasn’t the type to back down—not then, not now.
The difference was, this time, she didn’t feel like she was fighting alone.
Vi slumped further into her chair, one knee bouncing under the desk as she stared down at her phone, her thumb lazily scrolling through her messages with Caitlyn. They had been going back and forth about random things—memes, half-baked thoughts, a brief rant about how the school hallways smelled different today—until Caitlyn finally put an end to it.
Cait: Vi, focus. You’re in class. Worry about school, not me.
Vi smirked, glancing up at the teacher droning on at the front of the room before typing out her reply.
Vi: Fine, fine. I’ll see you tonight then.
Caitlyn’s response came just a second later.
Cait: Can’t wait©
Vi stared at the screen for a second longer, then locked her phone and shoved it into her pocket. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she leaned back in her chair and, for once, actually started paying attention.
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Lunch sucked.
Vi had been half-expecting Caitlyn to sneak away from the estate and meet her in the attic like she used to before everything went public, but when lunch rolled around, she was still alone. It wasn’t like she needed Caitlyn there, but school felt weirder than usual without the constant schedule, and she wouldn’t have minded the company.
Instead, Vander showed up.
He walked in without knocking, carrying a bowl of cheesy mac—the same way he used to when she was little, back when it was one of her favourite comfort foods. Vi sat up a little straighter, eyeing him as he handed it over.
“Thought you could use something good today,” he said simply.
Vi hesitated for a beat before taking the bowl, stirring the spoon through the thick, gooey mess of nostalgia. “Thanks,” she muttered, though the whole interaction felt a little too sentimental for her liking.
Vander just smiled, leaning against the railing. “I wanted to do a little countdown for your birthday. Thought we could make it special.” He nodded toward the bowl in her hands. “And I know how much you love your food—so what better way to count down than with your favourites?”
Vi blinked, glancing down at the cheesy mac, the steam curling up in familiar, comforting waves. “A food countdown?” she asked, arching a brow.
Vander shrugged. “Every day until your birthday, I bring you something you like to eat. Thought it might make things a little easier.”
Vi shifted uncomfortably, her mind flickering back to the $5,000, but Vander just gave her that knowing look—the one that always told her he wasn’t pushing, just giving her time.
“I can hold onto it until you’re ready,” he said simply.
Vi let out a slow breath, stirring her spoon through the cheesy mac before finally nodding. “Yeah… thanks. I just—I don’t really know what to do with it right now.”
Vander ruffled her hair with a chuckle. “No rush, kid. Just eat.”
And with that, he left, leaving Vi alone with her thoughts, her favourite food, and just a little less weight pressing on her shoulders.
Vi's last two periods of the day were a double PE session—her least favourite way to end the school day. She hated the running, the endless laps around the field, and the way her lungs burned even before the first round was finished. So, instead of bothering, she strolled into the gym, tossed a casual “Hey, Sevika” to her teacher, and made a direct beeline for the punching bag in the little gym off to the side of the stadium.
Sevika barely spared her a glance at first, setting up the rest of the class with a game before making her way over. Vi knew she wouldn’t be left alone for long.
“You know, you actually have to participate in the class exercises for me to pass you,” Sevika drawled as she approached.
Vi didn’t even pause in her warm-up. “Seriously, Sevika, I’m top of the class—don’t make empty threats.”
“It’s Mrs Hegadi to you, and don’t be so fucking cocky,” Sevika snapped, though there was no real heat behind it. She grabbed a pair of sparring mitts from the rack and held them up. “C’mon, hit these instead.”
Vi sighed but adjusted her stance, switching from the bag to Sevika’s hands, her punches landing with practised precision.
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Sevika and Vander had been close - used to be even closer. When Vander’s wife died, Sevika had been there, stepping in where she could, helping with the kids, filling in the gaps. But grief didn’t sit well with either of them. Sevika had turned to alcohol, just like she had years ago when Vi’s mother, Felicia, died.
At first, Vander had let it slide. They were all hurting, and she was still showing up, still helping. Until one night when it became clear she wasn’t just numbing the pain - she was drowning in it. Sevika had been meant to look after the kids, but when Vander came home, he found a disaster.
That was the breaking point. Vander couldn’t forgive himself for trusting her with the kids when she was like that. Couldn’t trust her at all after that. She had been meant to watch them. Meant to be the responsible adult. Instead, she was passed out on the couch, empty bottles on the floor, while Vi tried to keep Powder from crying and Mylo from losing his temper. Claggor was the one who eventually cleaned up the mess, muttering under his breath about how it wasn’t fair. Vi, just a teenager herself, ended up being the one holding everything together.
Vander was furious. Not in the way he usually was when someone messed up - this was different. A cold, quiet kind of anger. Vi had never seen him look at Sevika like that before. He didn’t yell. He just told her to leave. Told her she couldn’t be around the kids anymore if this was how she handled things.
Sevika disappeared after that, only resurfacing when she got herself clean and found work as a teacher. By then, their close-knit connection had been severed. He never stopped looking out for her from a distance, but the closeness they had was long gone. Vi never knew the full truth of what was said between them that night, but she knew it had been enough to cut deep. They hadn’t spoken at all, but Vander never let the kids think badly of her. “She’s got her demons, same as all of us,” was all he ever said about it.
At school, Sevika never acted like she didn’t know Vi - she did. There was no pretending they weren’t familiar. But there was something different in the way she treated her. She was harder on Vi in some ways, pushing her, testing her limits, but she was also the only teacher who ever let Vi get away with shit. She never called Vi out for skipping warm-ups, never actually punished her for mouthing off. The other students figured it was because Vi was top of the class, but Vi wasn’t stupid.
She saw the way Sevika looked at her sometimes - like she felt guilty.
But Vi never brought it up. Never asked about it.
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Sevika let her go for a few minutes before cutting in. “I’ll let you stay in here for this period, but when the second period starts, you’re joining the basketball game, or I’m making you run laps.”
Vi groaned. “You bitch.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m the bitch for actually trying to teach you something,” Sevika shot back, unimpressed.
“Whatever,” Vi muttered, barely believing her.
“I mean it, Vi, or I’m deducting your grade.”
“Psshh.” Vi scoffed but knew she’d probably cave eventually.
Sevika barely had time to respond before Vi’s next punch landed harder than either of them expected. The impact sent a sharp jolt up Sevika’s arm, and she instinctively stepped back, rolling out her shoulder with a grunt. “Damn, Vi,” she muttered, shaking out the lingering tension before giving her a pointed look. “Tryna break my hands or just showing off?” Sevika gestured to the punching bag to the side. “back to the bag.”
Vi smirked but obeyed, shifting her focus back to the punching bag as Sevika pulled off the mitts and tossed them onto the rack.
Sevika turned to leave but hesitated at the door, glancing over her shoulder. “Will we be seeing the princess on school grounds anytime soon?”
Vi frowned, caught off guard. “Uh, why does that matter? And why do you think I would know the princess’s whereabouts?”
Sevika snorted. “Don’t insult me—I keep up with the news, pup.” She smirked as Vi’s eyes widened in realization.
Shit. She’d seen the nickname.
The Guard Dog comments had been circulating ever since the rave incident blew up online, and of course, Sevika would put two and two together instantly.
“Fuck you,” was all Vi could manage in her flustered state.
Sevika laughed, shaking her head. “And secondly, you actually participated when you were trying to impress her.”
Before Vi could fire back, Sevika walked out, throwing one last parting shot over her shoulder. “And put on a damn shirt when you come to participate—I don’t feel like writing up a uniform violation for your sports bra.”
Vi just smiled to herself, shaking her head as she turned back to the bag. She never got a uniform violation. She wouldn’t get one now.
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Vi drove straight to Caitlyn’s house, not bothering to change out of her PE clothes or take a shower. The lingering sweat and chalky feeling of dried exertion didn’t seem important—not when she was finally heading to see Cait.
She took her usual route, parking around the back of the estate, hidden through the trees where the cameras wouldn’t catch her. As she stepped out, she couldn’t help but smile at the sheer size of the place. Wonder what Cait’s been up to,she mused, feeling a rush of excitement at the thought of seeing her.
And then there was Mel and Jayce.
Vi had done a bit of reading up on Jayce’s time in Arizona - more than Cait had told her - and what she found had been rough. The articles painted a messy, chaotic picture, and yet Vi wasn’t one to let scandal speak for someone’s character. She was eager to meet him, to see for herself the man who had clawed his way back from rock bottom.
Slipping through the bushy hedge at the side of the estate, Vi expertly dodged the circus of cameras camped out front. She moved like she belonged there like she had done this a hundred times before. She ducked into the side of the estate, pushing through a side door that had been left slightly ajar.
Inside, the air was cool and crisp, the windows thrown open to let the evening breeze roll through. And there, seated with a glass of wine in her hand, was Elora.
Vi slipped through the side door, barely making a sound, but the moment she stepped inside, Elora didn’t even look up from her glass of wine. “You make that look way too easy,” she mused, swirling the deep red liquid. “Should I be concerned about burglars, or is it just you I have to worry about?”
Vi smirked, kicking the door shut behind her. “Guess that depends on whether your burglars bring gifts.”
Elora let out a quiet laugh, finally standing up and dusting herself off. Without hesitation, she reached for Vi’s bag, plucking it from her hands before Vi could protest. “She’s in the kitchen with the chef,” Elora said smoothly, already turning toward the hallway.
Vi raised a brow. “And you’re just stealing my bag now?”
Elora shot her a knowing look over her shoulder. “Let’s call it an exchange. I take this, you take your sweaty ass to Caitlyn. Fair trade.”
Vi snorted but didn’t argue, rolling her shoulders before heading toward the kitchen, her excitement bubbling back up at the thought of seeing Caitlyn again.
As they reached the grand staircase, Vi and Elora naturally parted ways - Elora heading upstairs toward Caitlyn’s room with Vi’s bag in tow, and Vi beelining for the kitchen.
The moment she stepped inside, she spotted Caitlyn standing by the counter, her back turned as she chatted with the chef. Vi smirked, nodding at the chef - who barely flicked his gaze toward her but said nothing, understanding the silent request. With that, Vi crept forward and, without warning, wrapped her arms around Caitlyn’s waist, pulling her into a warm back hug.
“Hey, Princess. Miss me?”