✫✫✫

"Hannibal."

"Yes babe?"

"Why in the heck did you spout nonsense to the press?"

"Nonsense? I'm hurt. I was doing my very best to be sincere, you know."

"Don't you dare talk about sincerity with me when we both know you're just doing this for a paycheck!"

"Babe, calm down."

"Calm down?! CALM DOWN?! How am I supposed to calm down when I freakin' told you that I didn't wanna be part of your shenanigans and yet you still made a freakin' move?!"

"In my defense, I was going to tell you that I'd be making my confession on the day of the interview but you weren't answering any of my messages. So technically, it's not my fault you didn't know."

I threw my phone to the couch and groaned in frustration, covering my face with my hands. I could hear faint noises outside, probably fans and paparazzi waiting outside the agency, eagerly wanting to know my response to Hannibal's disgusting confession. Damn that guy.

"Okay, so things look a little bad right now. But look on the bright side! This might mean that we really should team up with Hannibal! Look at the overwhelming response!" I rolled my eyes at Paul's statement as he entered the room, seemingly unperturbed. It was a stark contrast to the sound of his voice when he called me. He was probably worried that Hannibal was gonna say something bad about me—which he definitely could've done. AND WHICH I DEFINITELY WOULD HAVE PREFERRED.

"No. We are not going to team up with Hannibal. Have you seen his history? It's even darker than his own eyeliner collection. No, Gigi, I suggest we refrain from making any hasty moves and just refuse to speak about the matter." Meredith sat in front of me with her legs crossed, giving Paul the side-eye.

He sat next to her and crossed his arms. "Shut up, Meredith. You don't know anything. This is worth millions, Gigi! Think about all the endorsements and the publicity we could gain. If we just allow this opportunity to pass by, we might never get another one again!"

"Opportunities? Excuse me, but Gigi Vloski has plenty of opportunities lined up for her in the future. All she needs to do is maintain a clear image that does not involve playboys chasing her for money. Besides, she's too busy getting into shape, right Gi—"

Paul cut her off. "Shut up!"

"No, you shut up!" Meredith snapped.

"I'm her brother!"

"And I'm her manager!"

"And I get to say the last word, because I'm Gigi Vloski! So both of you, shut up!" I shouted. I'm seriously tired of this.

"Where are you going?" Paul asked as he watched me pack my stuff up. "We still have a recording session, Gigi."

"Gigi, we'll get behind time if you don't record now. Put your stuff back." Meredith said.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and opened the door. I glared at them. "No. You know what? I don't have the energy to deal with Hannibal, and I don't have the energy to deal with both of you. So forgive me if I can't fulfill your greed today, but I'm going home."

I slammed the door.

✫✫✫

"Gimelle, you're home early!" I lit up at the sound of my dad's voice, seeing him lying on the couch again. He had a towel on his forehead and he was wrapped in a blanket like a burrito. It was like seeing Chipotle in the Sahara Desert.

I dropped everything and embraced him, burying my head over his shoulder. Tears started spilling down my cheeks. I breathed in my dad's scent and assured myself that everything was gonna be okay as long as he was with me. "Dad, code red."

I felt him go still for a moment before he rubbed my back comfortingly. "Got it."

Code red. That was my dad's cue to hug me, an agreement we made when I was five years old. We both mutually decided that whenever I felt sad, all I had to do was say those words. It was because I didn't like to show my vulnerable side to Paul, who always made fun of me when I cried. My dad knew how difficult it was for me, especially after mom died, so he would just give me a big hug. After that, I'd immediately feel better.

"Code red! Code red!" Seven year old me wailed to my dad, falling into his open arms.

"Mayday, mayday, officer has been attacked! She needs backup!" He joked, hugging me tightly.

I wailed even harder. "Daddy! Be quiet! Paul might hear you!"

"Okay, okay. It's okay, I got you." He said, carrying me and sitting me onto the counter. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"No!" I cried. I ended up telling him anyway. "I just wanna hug daddy because Paul was being mean! He called me ugly!"

"Don't worry, daddy will talk to Paul, okay? You're not ugly, Gimelle. You're the most beautiful daughter ever and no guy can ever call you anything else, alright?"

I smiled upon remembering that memory. However, after a few minutes of cuddling with my dad, I noticed how warm he was. I sat up and frowned at him. "Dad, you're sick again?"

His eyes were bloodshot, with dark circles underneath. His lips were pale, and he had pools of sweat at the sides of his face. Despite his appearance, he still smiled. "It's nothing, dear. Just the seasonal flu."

Seasonal flu, my butt. He looks like a zombie already. "Have you been drinking medicine?"

"Of course, don't worry about it." He ruffled my hair. "Now, do you want to talk about it? How are you feeling?"

"Just.. meh." I said. "I'm just feeling pressured right now about everything."

"Is this about that boy, Hannibal?" He asked. My eyes widened. How did he know?

My dad probably saw the look on my face, because he sniggered uncontrollably. He nudged me. "I'm not that outdated, dear. I saw the news awhile ago. He confessed about his feelings for you, right?"

I looked away and swallowed the lump in my throat. "Maybe."

"Is that why you're so troubled?" He asked, smoothening the back of my hair. "You don't know how to respond to his confession?"

As if. It's an obvious no from me, guys. The only problem I have is the millions of people who expect me to say yes.

I didn't tell my dad that though. Instead, I just gave out a big sigh.

Upon hearing me, my dad held my shoulders to face me. His eyes are so understanding, so kind. It made me want to tell him everything, but at the same time, I didn't want to burden him with my problems. He was already sick and he didn't deserve another weight on his shoulders.

He smiled at me. "Dear, if you're feeling confused, I just wanna tell you that you don't have to feel pressured by what other people may say. If you like him, go for it. If you don't, that's also fine. You can do whatever it is that you want, but what's important is that you make a decision that you won't regret. Okay?"

I nodded. A simple, but meaningful piece of advice.

"I remember when I first confessed to your mom." My dad began, looking far away. I pressed myself next to him, eager to hear about his story. It's rare for him to talk about mom these days. "I was a barista and she was the nightly singer at the cafe I was working in. I spent three years just watching her from afar until one day I decided to muster up the courage to talk to her."

"Did she reject you?" I asked.

"Surprisingly, she said she was interested in me too. We hung out a lot after work and after awhile, we sealed the deal. Of course, we had a few arguments along the way because I couldn't sustain her at the time, but I proved to her that we could make things work." He said. I noticed that he kept playing with the ring on his finger.

"Still, I regret a lot of things." He looked down. "I regret not working hard enough to supply us financially, not being there for her when she needed me most, and not fighting for her when she started to distance herself."

"I regret allowing her to just slip between my fingers."

"The thing about love, dear, is that it takes a lot of effort." He put his arm around me and took a deep breath. "Both of you should be helping each other grow. If one of you knows that something is wrong, you have to communicate about it. Not just watch them slowly burn to flames. That's not love."

"That's why I'm doing my best to treat Tracy the way I should've treated Gloria. With much of my time and commitment. I don't want things to end the same way with your mom."

Somehow, my heart clenched at my dad's words. I know how hard it is for him to talk about mom, but he still tries so hard to make me understand.

"That's why, Gimelle, you should make sure that when you get into a relationship, you're prepared to put in all your effort. Don't just accept someone who loves you. Accept someone you love, and who makes it easy for you to give your all. Make no regrets." He gave me a soft smile.

"I promise I'll try, dad." I said.

We just sat there, smiling at each other, before the moment was utterly broken by the evil witch.

"Hello!—Oh, Gigi, you're here." I secretly wished for all the elements of the world to come and burst through the door that the witch just came through. She was holding a bunch of groceries and was struggling to close the door.

Ha. Serves her right. She should try using her tentacles underneath the human getup.

"Go and help her." My dad whispered. Ugh.

Obediently, I walked across the room and shut the door with my foot and proceeded back to the couch, allowing Tracy to continue struggling with the bags in her hands.

She smiled sweetly at dad. Gross. "How are you feeling, love?"

"Still sick, but I think I'm getting better with the medicine you gave me." He also exchanged a sweet smile. I felt a little goosebumps. It's so unnatural.

"By the way! Did you hear about the popular singer who confessed to Gigi? I'm so surprised!" I scoffed at Tracy's remark. Bet she thought I was so unlikeable—which I am, honestly, but still.

"Yeah, I already told Gigi what she should do about it." Dad said. "It's always important to make decisions you won't regret."

"True!" Tracy giggled horrendously, before suddenly calling me. "Oh, Gigi! Would you be a dear and help me out in sorting the groceries?"

Dad nudged me. Gosh man, I know he's trying to make her feel loved and all, but the feeling isn't mutual for me!

It took my dad a few more nudges before I begrudgingly walked towards the table. However, my indignant behavior may have caused the table to shake and caused the groceries to fall down the table. "Oops."

I bent down to pick up the stuff and squinted when I saw a small cylindrical bottle with dark liquid inside just lying on the floor. I was going to pick it up but Tracy beat me to it.

"What's that?" I asked.

She hid the bottle in her back pocket and rolled her eyes at me. "Grown up stuff that you wouldn't understand."

Funny. I've heard that before.

When she looked away, I mocked her gestures and continued picking up the stuff. However, the witch called me again. "Gigi, can you come here for a moment?"

Ugh. Seriously?

I approached her and crossed my arms. "What?"

My stony demeanor changed when I saw how scary she looked. Her red lips were turned up in a smirk, and her eyes held something that I felt like I needed to know.

She leaned in close to my ear.

"If I were you," She whispered, just enough for me to hear. "I'd make a decision I wouldn't regret in the future. Just like your dad said."

My eyebrows furled at her words. What?

"Say yes to Hannibal, or else."

✫✫✫

Ooh snap, things are getting serious.

I put in a few little winkie dinks/hints in there, so if you think you know what's going on, feel free to comment your theories!

I know I labeled this as humor, but I also intended for some drama to go on, so don't be surprised if the tone of the story suddenly becomes different.

Thanks for reading!