joygreenaway

[joygreenaway]

"William my dearest, you look less than yourself than yourself." Joy said with a worried frown on her features - "That disguise is not doing you any good either." She admitted her worry seeking through her lips. "Anything you wanna tell little Miss Joy?"

William had just landed back in New York three hours ago and he hadn't slept in as many years it felt like. Things were going from bad to worse. He was in his dad's old MIT sweatshit, baseball cap and sunglasses on, sporting a few new bruises. This was such bullshit. He was exhausted by the time he carefully sunk into the seat beside them, desparately grasping at keeping a low profile. @tfrstarters

[joygreenaway]

"Not you alone, Zachy," Joy said with a stunning smile that could light up any room, her voice carrying the warmth of someone who was always in control of the moment. She was dressed to the nines, as usual, in fashionable clothes that seemed to perfectly balance trendiness and timeless elegance. A pair of oversized sunglasses perched on her nose, partially hiding her face, but not quite enough to make her unrecognizable. Joy had that kind of presence—a magnetic aura that drew people in, making her the center of attention no matter where she went. The sunglasses might have shielded her eyes, but they couldn’t mask the confident grace with which she carried herself.

As she approached, her smile widened, showing off a set of perfect white teeth, and she extended her arms slightly as if to embrace the entire scene around her. There was something effortlessly glamorous about the way she moved, as if she belonged on a red carpet rather than just out on the street. Even in casual settings, Joy had a knack for making everything feel a little more special, a little more electric.

"How ya doin’, babe?" she asked, her voice laced with that familiar blend of playfulness and affection that made it impossible not to smile back. It was the kind of greeting that felt like a warm hug, even from a distance. Joy had a way of making everyone around her feel important, like they were the only person in the world who mattered in that moment. It was part of what made her so irresistible, so captivating.

As she stood there, waiting for his response, she tilted her head slightly, her sunglasses slipping just enough to reveal a glimpse of her bright, curious eyes beneath. The sun glinted off her accessories—gold bracelets that jingled softly with her movements, a delicate necklace that caught the light just so—and it was clear that every detail of her outfit had been meticulously chosen, as if even a simple greeting required the perfect ensemble. But despite all the glamour, there was something genuine in the way she asked the question, a real interest in how Zachy was doing that went beyond just pleasantries.

Joy was the kind of person who could effortlessly juggle multiple conversations, handle a crisis with grace, and still make time to check in on her friends with sincere care. Even in the midst of whatever whirlwind her life might be, she always had a moment to spare for those she cared about, and it was this blend of style and substance that made her so beloved by everyone who knew her.

"Someone tell Gossip Girl there's finally something to fucking talk about around here again-," Zach announced. "I'm back."

[joygreenaway]

Joy found herself smiling at the sight of her friend, though if she was being honest with herself, the term “friend” felt a bit murky when it came to Hunky Huntzberger. Sure, they shared a bond, but there was a time when Joy had been more than a little attracted to him, even if she would never dare to admit it. It wasn’t something she’d ever share with anyone, especially not him. After all, the guy had an ego that could fill a room, and she wasn’t about to inflate it further. As charming and flirtatious as he could be, there was no denying that Huntzberger was also incredibly self-assured, maybe a bit too much for his own good.

Joy took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she approached the counter. There was a time when just being near him would have set her heart racing, but she liked to think she’d moved past that now. Still, there was something about the way he looked at her, that playful glint in his eye, that made her wonder if he knew more than she let on. But she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of showing any sign of fluster.

"Caramel macchiato, with extra caramel drizzle," she said simply, keeping her voice steady and her expression neutral. She wasn’t going to let him get under her skin, not today. As she waited for her drink, she could feel his eyes on her, but she refused to look up. Instead, she focused on the steady hum of the coffee shop, the soft chatter of other customers, anything to keep herself grounded.

She couldn’t help but wonder, though, if he ever thought about the fact that they could have been something more. But then again, that was just wishful thinking, wasn’t it? Joy had long ago convinced herself that whatever fleeting feelings she might have had for Huntzberger were just that—fleeting. She’d moved on, or at least that’s what she kept telling herself. But as she stood there, waiting for her order, she couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there was still a part of her that hadn’t quite let go.

"What are you up to William?"

William had been making his way back from a tedious yet necessary meeting. The agenda of which he wasn't at liberty to disclose and definitely did not include talks on how to get back at that bastard Slater. Anyway, he was in good enough spirits when he noticed her through the window. William had known Joy Greenaway all of his life. The big sunglasses were fooling no one.

With a small smile to himself, William opened the door just in time to hear her chastise the person in front. Oh, to lose it over a skinny latte. William wished he had such problems.

"Well, well. I didn't know the people's princess was here," he teased as ways of greeting. "Joy Greenaway, saviour of the underpaid. They'll have to add that to your profile in Kouture magazine."

He looked her over a moment, hesitating briefly. It had been a while since he last saw her. "What are you having, my dear? My treat. I'll even leave a tip on your behalf."

[joygreenaway]

Joy stepped out of the hospital, her footsteps light but her heart heavy with uncertainty. The cool breeze brushed against her face, a welcome contrast to the sterile, suffocating air inside. She took a deep breath, savoring the freedom of being outside again, even if it was laced with the lingering anxiety that had settled in her chest. The doctors had run every test imaginable, yet they still had no answers for her persistent sickness. She felt a pang of frustration mixed with fear—what if they never found out what was wrong with her?

She adjusted the oversized sunglasses perched on her nose and pulled her hat lower, hoping it would be enough to shield her from the prying eyes of the paparazzi who seemed to lurk around every corner.

The last thing she needed was a headline about her mysterious illness.

Slipping into a nearby café, she exhaled in relief as the door closed behind her, shutting out the outside world. The warm aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries wrapped around her like a comforting blanket, offering a momentary escape from her worries. She ordered a simple black coffee, craving something strong to shake off the fatigue that clung to her.

As she waited at the counter, she noticed a commotion at one of the tables near the window. A tall, well-dressed person was standing, their face twisted in anger as they leaned over the barista, who looked pale and frightened. The person's voice was rising, their words sharp and cutting, dripping with entitlement.

"Do you know who I am?" they hissed, their tone laced with fury, as if their very identity should exempt them from any inconvenience.

Joy felt a surge of irritation rise within her, eclipsing the weariness that had been dragging her down all day. She wasn’t in the mood to witness someone taking out their frustrations on a service worker, especially someone who was clearly in the wrong.

"Hey," she called out, stepping forward without hesitation, her voice firm but calm. "Don’t talk to the staff like that."

@tfrstarters