Lasunny's Character Sheet:

{.Trenton Beau Russel.}

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

Personality:

Wren is a whirlwind of color and chaos, the kind of woman who dances barefoot in the rain and paints long past midnight with music blasting and her soul wide open. She thrives in spontaneity, rarely planning and often leaping headfirst into new adventures with a wild spark in her eye. Conformity has never appealed to her, instead, she finds beauty in the bizarre, magic in the mundane, and inspiration in the strangest corners of the world. Her creativity runs deep and unfiltered, manifesting not only in her work but in the way she speaks, dresses, and lives: unapologetically and vibrantly herself.

Yet beneath that bright, untamed surface lies a fierce personality that refuses to be controlled. Wren is as sassy as she is passionate, quick with a witty comeback and unafraid to speak her mind. She meets challenges with stubborn determination and often resists being told what to do—even when it would serve her better to listen. Her emotions burn hot, and when she feels something, she throws herself into it with everything she has. This fire inside her can make her difficult at times, but it also makes her unforgettable. She's not the type to be tamed—only understood.

Despite her boldness and sometimes brash demeanor, Wren has a deeply nurturing heart. She craves meaningful connection, aching to share her love with someone who will see past her chaos and embrace her for it. When she loves, she does so fiercely and selflessly, offering her whole self without hesitation. Her loyalty is unwavering, and she takes joy in caring for others, whether that’s through a hand-painted gift, a spontaneous road trip, a cup of coffee, or simply sitting beside someone in silence when they need it most. To be loved by Wren is to be seen, celebrated, and held with a rare, wild kind of devotion

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

Only about a dozen of people were left in the office when Trenton finally decided it was time to head home. The office closed at 5:00 PM sharp, and there were few employed to the company that would want to stay even a minute over that; but for Trenton, he waited until six every night to pack his things away. It offered him a peaceful space in his head to think about the day that had just ocurred. He had access to his coworkers' portfolios and desk tops, and so sometimes he did progress reports on random to keep the buisiness monitored and in check. But really, Trenton was just a rather suspicous person. He always believed that some evil plan was being schemed under his nose as CEO, and he would rather walk on hot coals than let that happen. Partly it was his ego that kept him so strung-up, but another factor to it was that the businesses asssets had been greatly strained the past years. He refused to allow something like the last accounts manager to occur again - partly for the company, and partly for himself. He wished to prove to himself he was infact capable of protecting something dear to him.

. . . . .

It was about the second stoplight he had passed, when his phone began to ring again. Without hesitation, he clicked the hands-free call button on his steering wheel as the light turned green, but didn't care to look at who had been calling.

"Hello?" His voice was stale from the exhaustion of the day.

"Good Evening, Mr. Russel," Trenton recognized that voice anywhere. It was his boss, Vice President of Russel Corp; and also his father.

"You can call me son, ya' know,"

"It more or less unprofessional, Sir," His father barked through the phone, before clearing his throat and continuing without a response from Trenton,

"As you know, I am approaching the age of retirement,"

Trenton let out a chuckle at this. He found it funny, his father acknowledging his elderly age. Although it didn't seem or look like it, he was almost 72 years old, and had postponed even thinking of retirement for almost 10 years straight.

"I know of the such," Trenton replied with a tone that heavily implied he had the widest grin plasted across his face right then.

"..and you're my heir to the company name and assets," His father seemed to ignore Trenton's amusement and continued,

"But, you've been deemed unfit by the board to be frank. Men of your unwedded denomination present.." His father trailed off for a moment before finally finished, "Undesirable results within the company's decision-making," This was the last way Trenton had expected that sentence to end.

"You're meaning to tell me the board deemed me unworthy of ownership because I'm not married?" Trenton's voice bounced upon the walls of his skull. How could him being single have anything to do with inheriting his family business? That's bizzare.

"Well, statistically we have examined that men who live with a woman tend to make increasingly more analyzed movements on the play field of fianancial decisions when consulting a female homebody prior-to,"

His father wasn't even trying to beat around the bush at that point - he was stating that since Trenton was unmarried, he was at risk of making bias, and therefore dangerous decisions in the name of the corporation.

"So what, I just don't get the company now?" Trenton hissed through the phone.

"Son, to be plain with you; yes. Unless you're planning to get married before my retirement send-away in three weeks, I suggest you make peace with the thought of being second in command to Dr. Paisley,"

Dr. Paisley was the Head of the Board Coucil, and second-in-command to Trenton's father, owner of the corps. The Dr. always had something to say about the way Trenton worked. "You're too stingy, boy.", or, "You missed a comma, kid," He never seemed to remember that although Trenton was decades younger than him, he had been working within his family company since his 16th birthday, and by no means did he believe he was capable of making a mistake that would potentially jeopardize the company.

"Okay, I have to let you go. I have a dinner to be at," Trenton announced abruptly, allowing not a second to go by before clicking the end call button on the inside of his steering wheel. He had turned into his neighborhood and was itching to find a way from that phone call. There was no way in hell that his father could just give away his birth right to the company so simply. Not be married? What booze was the Board drinking to make them think a man such as himself should be married to run things around there? It made absolutely no sense.

. . . . . .

Trenton had slipped into a dark grey pair of loose-fitting jeans being held up by a black leather belt, and a light blue addidas t-shirt before making his way to his Aunt Marissa's. She was swinging on her suspended porch chair when he pulled into the gravel driveway of her newly-boght farm house. It was made of a certain type of tin on the outside, but on the inside it was perfectly smooth-looking and polished, as if it was placed in the dead center of Las Angeles, rather than a rural town in the middle of no and where. Her face practically lit up from ear to ear when she caught sight of Trenton, but he took a few moments longer to turn off his car and gather his things before stepping out. He wasn't necessarily ready to face the crowd of people that were gathered just inside the screen door of his Auntie Marr's new house, but he supposed he had already been spotted, so there was no real escape now.

The café stayed open well past dark, often until 10:00pm, giving the night life time to receive their fix of coffee and free wifi. Wren had once tried convincing her manager there to give her more hours, but there wasn't much room for her on the night shift. After all, the boom of customers always faded off around 5:00pm, right when the 9-to-5's got off work and headed home to their families. Wren didn't mind, of course. It was like a breath of fresh air in her day full of dread. The stress had impacted her work, and her coworkers had even noticed, urging her to talk to them about whatever troubled her.

Wren was fixing herself a cup of steaming hot coffee before she left when Sarah slid up beside her, bumping her hip into Wren's. "You sure you'll be alright? You've been so tense all day," she questioned, offering the older woman a smile and look of encouragement. Wren sighed and shook her head, giving her a wry smile in return. "Just finances and the never ending bills. Nothing to worry about," she told her, not wanting the girl to worry. The little red head truly did have a big heart. Too big. Sarah could tell that Wren was more troubled than that, but she just chose to smile and crack a joke for both of their sake's before things got awkward. "You just need a husband! Or maybe a sugar daddy!" Sarah teased, making Wren truly laugh as she popped the lid onto her to-go cup of coffee. "Yeah, right! Now I just need to find one who doesn't want any sugar," she teased back, shaking her head. "Thanks, Sar. I needed that," she added, patting the young girl's shoulder before bidding her goodbye and leaving the shop. She didn't want to be late to the dinner and disappoint her mother, afterall.

...

Hyped up on what was way too much espresso, Wren arrived outside the brand new farm house right alongside her parents. They had traveled inside with the rest of the guests, her parents chatting up as if nothing in the world could ever be wrong. Perhaps for them it couldn't. After all, they'd had their lives figured out when they were her age. She had worn a white sundress with a little, sparkling necklace laying daintily at the base of her neck. She'd even worn heels— God save her— but at least they were comfortable even after a long day on her feet. The smell of coffee still followed her, even after a quick shower with all of her favorite vanilla smelling products. The other guests were people she was vaguely familiar with, many of them from her childhood. They asked personal questions about her life, none of which she was too thrilled to answer, and she was asked countless times when she'd finally settle down and get married like her mother so desperately wanted. Being the only child and daughter was not for the weak.

Just as a pair of headlights hit the drive way, she glanced over, figuring another guest must've arrived. Wren cared not who, her attention turning back to the conversation at hand even though she was mere bystander within it. She tried minding her face as she lost herself in thought, her brain constantly reminding her that she should have been looking for another job right then, not mingling with people who hadn't the slightest clue what she was going through. She sighed and shifted her weight from one foot to the other just as her mother gasped, her sights set on a figure some distance from the door. "I can't believe my eyes! Come on, Wren," she giggled quietly, dragging her daughter out of the screen door to stand on the porch.

"Ma, come on, I can walk by myself," Wren whined in protest, gently pulling her arm from the woman's grasp. What had gotten into her anyways? She never got this excited over things! Was there something she wanted to speak to Marissa about? She twisted and pulled at one of her curls as usual, becoming rather dreading of this dinner party. Wren was just about to ask what was going on when she laid eyes upon the figure that had been approaching, immediately identifying the man belonging to such stature and face. No freaking way. Not him. Wren stood there dumbfounded, almost having half a mind to turn around and go back into the house to hide. But of course Trenton would be there. It was his Aunt's house after all. She could hear her mother greeting him and talking to Marissa, but Wren was silent, staring down the figure she hadn't seen in years. Of all nights, did it have to be him to show up? Would he torture her like the times of their childhood? Could she even be nice? She didn't know, but good heavens she hadn't expected this when she agreed to dinner.