Francis Harter (or; Sketchballing)
Jan 3, 2017 21:27:58 GMT -5
Post by The Mason on Jan 3, 2017 21:27:58 GMT -5
October 2, 2016
He leans out of bed to try and silence that infernal racket. The shrill ringing sound coming from his cell phone signifying a message from Facebook.
“What the…” Francis Harter grumbles beneath his breath, groaning as he reaches across to grab his phone.
‘Jenny Knite has sent you a Friend Request’
In his slumber Francis didn’t quite know how to respond to that; he was fairly sure he didn’t know a Jenny Knite but yet the name sounded familiar. It’s there somewhere, deep down in the recesses of his mind, he just has to remember…
Preferably not at 2:07am, but time differences make for some awkward moments. Francis wipes the sleep from his eyes as he creeps on her profile, trying to figure out if and/or where he knows a Jenny Knite. As he browsed her photos, however, something stuck out to him. A photo from 2014 where his son, Dominic, was wrestling. And against Jenny Knite - that’s where he recognized the name from!
Why does she want to be friends with Francis? They’ve never even spoken before, have they? Maybe a casual hello that time Dom let his parents go backstage, but even then Francis hasn’t spoken much to his own son in the last year - not since he cheated on his ex-wife, Elizabeth - let alone any of his friends. Are Dom and Jenny even friends? They were bitter rivals last he can recall, what with him drugging her and her spiking his wine with ipecac. Maybe its for the best if he doesn’t accept a random friend request from one of his son’s wrestling rivals … But she’s cute.
Which is why at 2:09am EST on October 2nd, Francis Harter and Jenny Knite became Facebook friends.
And why at 2:09 am EST on October 2nd, Francis Harter received a message from Jenny Knite that simply read “Hi
”
December 28, 2016
”WIIITH AAAAARMMMS WIIIIDE OPEN… UUNNNDDDERRR THE SUNLIGHT! WELC--!”
Jenny sits upright in the bed, disoriented from sleep and from the half-dozen or so drinks from the night before. Even before she was fully awake she'd recognized the obnoxious alarm as her own. She feels blindly over the mattress for it-- but stops, seeing that Francis had located it first, leaning over the edge of the bed to silence it.
"Whoops,” she mutters.
“Was that Creed?”
“No.” Jenny shakes her head vigorously. “You’re just tired.” Some things, one may never confess.
They awaken in the Jenny's darkened bedroom in the Los Angeles duplex she shared with Elena Dragomirov-- more popularly (or as Jenny would state "more annoyingly") known as Ellie Los Angeles. Her mother had insisted that Jenny fly back after her Thursday Night Challenge appearance. She'd told Jenny to come back with "her boyfriend." ("I know there's someone. I can see it." Blah blah, mother chatter.) Even during the week-and-a-half Jenny stayed in Ocean City, Jenny stayed at the Bella Vista condos, miles from their house. Mrs. Knight had done everything in her power to sway her daughter but Jenny insisted she was trying to avoid crowding the house, which was already full of family.
In reality, despite the coy jokes dropped on Twitter, it was because Jenny didn't know what to say when Francis dropped by. She didn't know how to introduce him to her family. Or hardly anyone. She didn't even know the specifics; were they boyfriend and girlfriend, or was it not yet that serious? It’s been nearly three months now, but they’ve never really sat down and discussed exactly where they are in their relationship. And then there’s the age difference - how would Jeremy and Julianna react to their sister dating a man in his forties? More troublingly, what would come out of her parents’ mouth? Both of them were only a couple of years his senior. She bites her lip a bit, pondering the possibilities nervously, even now, days and hundreds of miles later.
“I may be tired,” Francis laughs, “but my son’s a rock fan, and I can tell that’s Creed.” But his laughter fades when he notices Jenny isn’t doing the same. Maybe it was the mention of Dom, maybe it was just her realizing the age difference between them. Or maybe the joke just wasn’t that funny. “Don’t tell Dom I told you that.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Jenny quips; she’s right though, she hasn’t even told Dom that she’s dating his dad, so knowing he used to listen to Creed isn’t that high on the list of things to tell him.
“Attagirl,” he replies, smiling to himself all the while.
She runs a hand through her hair, turning to swing her legs out from under the blankets and slide her feet into the slippers that sit next to the bed. “Can I ask you something?”
She can hear Francis turn, gazing at her even as she sits with her back turned. She sighs, hesitant to even ask the same question she’d already asked a half-dozen times already, but asks anyway:
“When is the right time?”
“The right time for what?” Francis asks, oblivious to the situation at hand.
Jenny turns to look back at him over her shoulder. Perhaps it wasn’t fair to ask him, since she was the one keeping secrets-- at least the important ones. Her face must have cycled through a bunch of different expressions before she found the words to say.
“Would Dom, like-- hate me, if he knew?” Jenny asks it hesitantly, knowing that she’d already dropped hints to Dom over the months, but whether he believed them, or even bothered to read into them, is another story entirely. “I mean… I know things aren’t really…” Sugarcoat. “...awesome with you guys at the moment, but like--” She sighs, rubbing at her eyes a bit. “I’m sorry. That’s stupid. I don’t know why I’m bringing this up right now.”
There’s a moment of silence as Francis contemplates the question, with thoughts and feelings running through his mind. Jenny truly did sugarcoat it when she said things weren’t awesome; the pair have hardly spoken since Francis and Elizabeth got divorced, and even the Christmas text message went unanswered. Francis had hoped that hearing Elizabeth has got engaged to another man may help Dom get over his resentment towards his father - but so far there’s been no luck.
“Lets just-” he runs a hand through his hair as he tries to put his thoughts into words, “-we don’t have to rush anything, baby.”
“I know we don’t…” Jenny replies, “...it’s just--”
“No, just,” Francis cuts her off, “the only thing we need to worry about right now is what we’re having for breakfast, ok.”
He doesn’t look back over at Jenny as he says it and eventually her gaze drifts away too. She nods, raising up a hand, almost defensively. “Okay.” She pushes herself up to her feet, making her way over to Francis’ side of the bed to kneel down and pick up her phone. As she stands up, standing in front of the man in silence for a moment, she says ever-
so-quietly, “sorry.” Jenny leans forward, kissing the top of his head before turning and making her way out of the room, stepping through the adjacent bathroom doorway in the hall.
Placing the phone down behind the sink, Jenny ran the faucet, leaning down to splash water onto her face, preparing to wipe off whatever makeup she’d forgotten to take off the night before.
BZZT!
Jenny pauses, reaching over to wipe her hand off on a towel before picking up the phone, which-- among other notifications that had been ignored throughout the night, including her Creed alarm-- displayed the Twitter push, Dom Harter just liked your photo! Jenny laughs a bit under her breath, sliding the notification over to jump to Dom’s profile and send him a direct message.
She sits the phone down, using a cloth now to finish scrubbing the previous evening’s makeup off of her skin.
>>It did!
>>Why are you always so suspicous?
>>Suspicious*
>>SKETCHBALL?!
>>And I’m sure sketchballing isn’t a real verb
Jenny allows the faucet to run for the sake of sound as she hears Francis finally pushing himself out of the bed in the next room. She gently pushes the door all the way shut, as if afraid Dom would be able to look out and see his father through the Twitter DM.
>>I’m meeting my future ex-wife on thursday night, thank you very much.
>>Jaelynn ia the future Mrs Harter
>>is*
Jenny can’t help but stifle a giggle at the last comment.
>>and Xmas was better than Thanksgiving. and I’m gaining a new step sister in a few months, so theres that. you?
Jenny curses silently as the giant red “!” signifies that her Creed message failed to send.
>>she knows! >_>
>>and that means you need LFPSC’s EP, right?
He leans out of bed to try and silence that infernal racket. The shrill ringing sound coming from his cell phone signifying a message from Facebook.
“What the…” Francis Harter grumbles beneath his breath, groaning as he reaches across to grab his phone.
‘Jenny Knite has sent you a Friend Request’
In his slumber Francis didn’t quite know how to respond to that; he was fairly sure he didn’t know a Jenny Knite but yet the name sounded familiar. It’s there somewhere, deep down in the recesses of his mind, he just has to remember…
Preferably not at 2:07am, but time differences make for some awkward moments. Francis wipes the sleep from his eyes as he creeps on her profile, trying to figure out if and/or where he knows a Jenny Knite. As he browsed her photos, however, something stuck out to him. A photo from 2014 where his son, Dominic, was wrestling. And against Jenny Knite - that’s where he recognized the name from!
Why does she want to be friends with Francis? They’ve never even spoken before, have they? Maybe a casual hello that time Dom let his parents go backstage, but even then Francis hasn’t spoken much to his own son in the last year - not since he cheated on his ex-wife, Elizabeth - let alone any of his friends. Are Dom and Jenny even friends? They were bitter rivals last he can recall, what with him drugging her and her spiking his wine with ipecac. Maybe its for the best if he doesn’t accept a random friend request from one of his son’s wrestling rivals … But she’s cute.
Which is why at 2:09am EST on October 2nd, Francis Harter and Jenny Knite became Facebook friends.
And why at 2:09 am EST on October 2nd, Francis Harter received a message from Jenny Knite that simply read “Hi
”December 28, 2016
”WIIITH AAAAARMMMS WIIIIDE OPEN… UUNNNDDDERRR THE SUNLIGHT! WELC--!”
Jenny sits upright in the bed, disoriented from sleep and from the half-dozen or so drinks from the night before. Even before she was fully awake she'd recognized the obnoxious alarm as her own. She feels blindly over the mattress for it-- but stops, seeing that Francis had located it first, leaning over the edge of the bed to silence it.
"Whoops,” she mutters.
“Was that Creed?”
“No.” Jenny shakes her head vigorously. “You’re just tired.” Some things, one may never confess.
They awaken in the Jenny's darkened bedroom in the Los Angeles duplex she shared with Elena Dragomirov-- more popularly (or as Jenny would state "more annoyingly") known as Ellie Los Angeles. Her mother had insisted that Jenny fly back after her Thursday Night Challenge appearance. She'd told Jenny to come back with "her boyfriend." ("I know there's someone. I can see it." Blah blah, mother chatter.) Even during the week-and-a-half Jenny stayed in Ocean City, Jenny stayed at the Bella Vista condos, miles from their house. Mrs. Knight had done everything in her power to sway her daughter but Jenny insisted she was trying to avoid crowding the house, which was already full of family.
In reality, despite the coy jokes dropped on Twitter, it was because Jenny didn't know what to say when Francis dropped by. She didn't know how to introduce him to her family. Or hardly anyone. She didn't even know the specifics; were they boyfriend and girlfriend, or was it not yet that serious? It’s been nearly three months now, but they’ve never really sat down and discussed exactly where they are in their relationship. And then there’s the age difference - how would Jeremy and Julianna react to their sister dating a man in his forties? More troublingly, what would come out of her parents’ mouth? Both of them were only a couple of years his senior. She bites her lip a bit, pondering the possibilities nervously, even now, days and hundreds of miles later.
“I may be tired,” Francis laughs, “but my son’s a rock fan, and I can tell that’s Creed.” But his laughter fades when he notices Jenny isn’t doing the same. Maybe it was the mention of Dom, maybe it was just her realizing the age difference between them. Or maybe the joke just wasn’t that funny. “Don’t tell Dom I told you that.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Jenny quips; she’s right though, she hasn’t even told Dom that she’s dating his dad, so knowing he used to listen to Creed isn’t that high on the list of things to tell him.
“Attagirl,” he replies, smiling to himself all the while.
She runs a hand through her hair, turning to swing her legs out from under the blankets and slide her feet into the slippers that sit next to the bed. “Can I ask you something?”
She can hear Francis turn, gazing at her even as she sits with her back turned. She sighs, hesitant to even ask the same question she’d already asked a half-dozen times already, but asks anyway:
“When is the right time?”
“The right time for what?” Francis asks, oblivious to the situation at hand.
Jenny turns to look back at him over her shoulder. Perhaps it wasn’t fair to ask him, since she was the one keeping secrets-- at least the important ones. Her face must have cycled through a bunch of different expressions before she found the words to say.
“Would Dom, like-- hate me, if he knew?” Jenny asks it hesitantly, knowing that she’d already dropped hints to Dom over the months, but whether he believed them, or even bothered to read into them, is another story entirely. “I mean… I know things aren’t really…” Sugarcoat. “...awesome with you guys at the moment, but like--” She sighs, rubbing at her eyes a bit. “I’m sorry. That’s stupid. I don’t know why I’m bringing this up right now.”
There’s a moment of silence as Francis contemplates the question, with thoughts and feelings running through his mind. Jenny truly did sugarcoat it when she said things weren’t awesome; the pair have hardly spoken since Francis and Elizabeth got divorced, and even the Christmas text message went unanswered. Francis had hoped that hearing Elizabeth has got engaged to another man may help Dom get over his resentment towards his father - but so far there’s been no luck.
“Lets just-” he runs a hand through his hair as he tries to put his thoughts into words, “-we don’t have to rush anything, baby.”
“I know we don’t…” Jenny replies, “...it’s just--”
“No, just,” Francis cuts her off, “the only thing we need to worry about right now is what we’re having for breakfast, ok.”
He doesn’t look back over at Jenny as he says it and eventually her gaze drifts away too. She nods, raising up a hand, almost defensively. “Okay.” She pushes herself up to her feet, making her way over to Francis’ side of the bed to kneel down and pick up her phone. As she stands up, standing in front of the man in silence for a moment, she says ever-
so-quietly, “sorry.” Jenny leans forward, kissing the top of his head before turning and making her way out of the room, stepping through the adjacent bathroom doorway in the hall.
Placing the phone down behind the sink, Jenny ran the faucet, leaning down to splash water onto her face, preparing to wipe off whatever makeup she’d forgotten to take off the night before.
BZZT!
Jenny pauses, reaching over to wipe her hand off on a towel before picking up the phone, which-- among other notifications that had been ignored throughout the night, including her Creed alarm-- displayed the Twitter push, Dom Harter just liked your photo! Jenny laughs a bit under her breath, sliding the notification over to jump to Dom’s profile and send him a direct message.
>>Finger slipped?
She sits the phone down, using a cloth now to finish scrubbing the previous evening’s makeup off of her skin.
>>It did!
>>Why are you always so suspicous?
>>Suspicious*
>>Because!
>>You’re a sketchball, Mr. Harter. and it has to be addressed.
>>cease sketchballing! immejately
>>Passing on some life advice. <3
>>You’re a sketchball, Mr. Harter. and it has to be addressed.
>>cease sketchballing! immejately
>>Passing on some life advice. <3
>>SKETCHBALL?!
>>And I’m sure sketchballing isn’t a real verb
>>it gets the point across. You’ll thank me for my advice whenever you meet a nice young lady.
>>
>>was your christmas awesome :0
>>
>>was your christmas awesome :0
Jenny allows the faucet to run for the sake of sound as she hears Francis finally pushing himself out of the bed in the next room. She gently pushes the door all the way shut, as if afraid Dom would be able to look out and see his father through the Twitter DM.
>>I’m meeting my future ex-wife on thursday night, thank you very much.
>>Jaelynn ia the future Mrs Harter
>>is*
Jenny can’t help but stifle a giggle at the last comment.
>>and Xmas was better than Thanksgiving. and I’m gaining a new step sister in a few months, so theres that. you?
>>poor Jaelynn. Does she know any better?
>>lol jk. Glad your Christmas wasn’t shitty then. <3
>>and it was good. Relaxing. Wasn’t expecting much. My parents got me a record player. That was pretty cool.
>>got me Human Clay by Creed on vinyl. Who woulda thought. [!]
>>lol jk. Glad your Christmas wasn’t shitty then. <3
>>and it was good. Relaxing. Wasn’t expecting much. My parents got me a record player. That was pretty cool.
>>got me Human Clay by Creed on vinyl. Who woulda thought. [!]
Jenny curses silently as the giant red “!” signifies that her Creed message failed to send.
>>she knows! >_>
>>and that means you need LFPSC’s EP, right?
>>lol obviously. Why do i not already have like 5 signed copies!!
>>
>>sooo does this mean you’ll be in LA tomorrow afternoon?
>>
>>sooo does this mean you’ll be in LA tomorrow afternoon?
>>I will be! Got to watch her whoop that Saylors ass!
>>just saw your msg about the step sister. Lol ew don’t be weird around your stepsister 
>>pls.
>>lolll AND we should catch up for a little bit thursday then! You can finally see my place!
>>pls.
>>lolll AND we should catch up for a little bit thursday then! You can finally see my place!
>>i’ll see what time allows but sounds good!
Jenny finishes washing her face in the sink, putting the cloth aside and grabbing her phone as she steps out into the hallway. Francis stands in front of a neatly made-up bed, pulling his t-shirt on over his head. Jenny leans against the doorway, giving him a smirk. “So! You decide what you’re making me yet?”
Francis smiles at his girlfriend, “French toast, just how you like it.” He rustles her hair as he brushes past her, moving toward the kitchen.
Jenny glances down at her phone once more out of habit before making her way toward her closet to start the day, putting the heaviest issues off perhaps one day more.
fin.
Credit to Benny for Dom and Francis' parts!
Jenny glances down at her phone once more out of habit before making her way toward her closet to start the day, putting the heaviest issues off perhaps one day more.
fin.
Credit to Benny for Dom and Francis' parts!