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The movie was just as Bella had remembered, the songs and music bringing back fond memories of her childhood, bundled between her parents with a mug of hot chocolate and a plate of biscuits. She couldn’t help but hum along when One Song started; the Prince was so romantic, even if he was one of the flattest characters ever. Bella wasn’t jealous of Snow White, exactly, but she had to admit that it’d be nice to have someone try and woo her like that.

And just like that, the movie was over, the sound of the credits mixed with Venice brushing her glossy hair - another thing Bella felt a little bit of envy over; Venice’s hair was so lustrous and pretty, whereas her own, although nice, took a bit too much effort for her liking - and Rosemary’s stomach rumbling. The rumble reminded her of the need to actual feed her guests food; they’d been here for awhile, and though the coffee and biscuits had been nice, they were far from filling.

Thankfully, Venice interjected with the suggestion of cutting the cake, which was a pretty good idea. It’d do no good if they feasted on crisps and soda all day and ended up too full to eat the centrepiece of the birthday food. Bella still felt a little guilty over letting her minor disappointment with Venice’s gift show on her face. Venice was such a sweet girl and a really good friend, and Bella didn’t want her to feel unwelcome in her home.

“That’s a great idea, Venice!” She beamed, standing up from the sofa and smoothing out the hem of her carnelian sundress. It was one of her birthday presents, given to her a few days ago by her Aunt Melanie. She’d been eager to try it out, and she suspected that was one of the reasons why her mother had requested formal attire - she would’ve stuck out like a sore thumb if she was all gussied up and everybody was in more causal clothes.

“There’s some sparkling grape juice in the fridge,” she continued, moving into the kitchen. “I’ll go fetch the bottle, so we can have a toast and stuff before cutting it!”

She hurried to the refrigerator to retrieve the bottle, placing it upon the tabletop before returning to her friends. “I hope this hasn’t been too much of a bore,” she said, kneeling to pull five wine wine glasses from beneath the liquor cabinet. “If there’s anything special you wanna do, then don’t be scared to speak up!”

“Voila!” She said, standing up once more. “Now, cake-time!”
Version Seven:
Tristan O’Hara
Dorothea Rodriguez
Ariana Simpson

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Lonely Hearts Club · Memories (The Past)