Chapter Text
It was easy to wake up early for breakfast, wanting to avoid the crowd, Hazel stiffly rose at five in the morning. The sun had barely peaked over the horizon, the waxing moon disappearing behind the window frame. Her heart dropped as she heard a creak beneath her and a groan - Diane conveniently must have noticed Hazel was awake too around the same time. The last thing either of them wanted was to wake the others and arise to Jojo and Gyro's insufferable chatter, so the silent battle of eye contact began as Hazel tiptoed her way down the bunk ladder, communicating with the sneering blondie in impatient frowns.
"What, you're going to the mess hall now?"
Diane hissed. Hazel shot a warning glare as she slipped on a light sweater and gumboots to shield her from the morning frost that hung in the air before the sun had time to thaw. She felt an almost intentional elbow in her side as she pushed past Diane to open the cabin door. Ignoring the ache in her abdomen the two of them trudged toward the mess hall together in the dull light of the creamy orange sunrise. The sun streaked across the sky as if it was swimming through the faint mist, like an egg yolk resting among cotton clouds, dripping fiery golden gooeyness like lava illuminating the picturesque morning.
Hazel wished she could enjoy it more but as fast as she walked that bitch with hair flowing like the sunset as if they were one followed close behind, she could hear her heavy breath as if she was struggling to keep up - only making her more and more pissed off. Diane's boots slipping lightly on the damp muddy grass brought Hazel on the verge of laughter though she held back the intrusive giggle, she wasn't that sadistic. As they closed in on the mess hall's wide doors Hazel could practically smell her cologne before she could see Diane approach her back and thrust an open palm against the handle, before she could have the opportunity to berate her violence the door swung open and Diane confidently strut into the well-lit dining hall.
Her cologne smelt strongly of bergamot and pepper, she was so prissy for wearing such a vein scent as soon as she woke up. Who did she think she was with that ego. The weight of the rosary against Hazel's chest reminded her to remain solitary and keep to herself. The hall was long - long and large with benches that could fit so many people it felt like a prison - differing in the air of relaxation and wafting smell of breakfast being prepared from the kitchens, the catering menu extensive to say the least. A woman in an apron looked surprised to see Hazel and Diane so early and welcomed them with a beaming smile. There were tacks of metal trays infront of the buffet where the woman stood, from the look of her she seemed to be rocking back and forth on her heels, adjusting her pinned-up bun under the net on her head keeping strays hairs in neat order, unable to stop fidgeting. Behind the glass of the buffet were platters of fruit and cereals, yogurts, muffins and waffles.
"Excuse me...if you don't mind, are you really Diane Brando?"
Hazel's attention was drawn to the cook who was shamelessly oogling Diane's build, Hazel was taller than Diane which she saw as embarrassing on behalf of her partner, she too had a similar frame though Diane was undeniably sculpted. Having fangirls even at camp was impressive. Diane, unexpectedly, leaned against the tray bench and smoothed her tone charismatically in response.
"Hm? Yes, it is I, Diane."
The woman practically squealed - it made Hazel cringe hearing that noise come from a woman's mouth - made much worse in answer to Diane of all people. Acting that was over anyone, let alone Diane, was ridiculous to hazel. Things like that made Hazel glad she was raised so conservatively in the nunnery. Hearing women squeak under a few words gave her such an odd sensation - if only that poor woman could see through Diane's facade - this act of suaveness.
"I'm quite a fan...I...uh...I must say I consider myself rather fond of-"
"Do you have any protein powder?"
The woman hesistated after being cut off so abruptly, Hazel crossed her arms at the nerve on Diane. If she was in that woman's shoes Diane would be getting the beating of a lifetime to be punched into place, not just the interuption, but of a confession? hazel's fists yearned to be buried across those smug cheekbones, picturing a big fat swollen bruise across Diane's chisled jawline gave her contentment enoght to wait for her turn to serve herself. After the cook quickly served Diane with ashamed flushed cheeks, she left her alone to serve Hazel.
"H.P, oi."
Hazel looked over her shoulder confused to see Diane tapping the bench infront of where she sat with the bottom of her fork as if beckoning her over like a bird to feast on crumbs. Hazel dropped her tray opposite Diane and sat down, huffing loudly in protest. Diane raised a dark arched eyebrow and stabbed her fork into a chunk of melon on her tray, chewing and swallowing it down with an oddly paired can of instant coffee before speaking, leaving Hazel's unamused eyes lingering.
"You're my partner. We have to discuss the first race."
She almost spat out the strawberry she'd just put in her mouth, pushing a hand through her hair, raking fingers tousling her cerise pink fringe.
"Now? The first competitive race is in weeks, we just train till then."
"I know, and like I said, i'm not willing to tolerate you holding me back. So we'll discuss the first race."
Diane spoke in the same tone she did when talking to that woman, it was mocking. Hazel inhaled deeply and responded calmly.
"I have multiple horses. Young mustangs. 'Gets Up' will be my horse for the first race at least. I intend to ride her and for training the both of us every second day on odd days - even days I will be in the gym. That's the plan. Now you know exactly how to avoid me."
Diane looked uncomfortable at Hazel's organization, no matter what she did it struck a nerve in Diane.
"Silver Bullet is an arab-thoroughbred and cost too bloody much not to ride often. My plan is... similar, works for me."
Works for me?? As if Hazel would let her change her well-anticipated plan anyway.
"Well, we'll do opposite days then?"
Hazel stated the question as set in stone like a law. Diane pouted like a frustrated child.
"That was not my intention."
Diane curled a finger around her ringlet that hung over her forehead between her eyes that reflected the golden hour.
"Then what is."
"We're partners."
"And?"
"And, we will take equal responsibility of eachother."
Those words were the least of Hazel's expectations. She really wanted to work together?
"...Not that you'd be my first option. But here we are."
Diane just had to add her classic passive-aggressive remark before rolling her eyes.
"What's your insta."
Hazel sighed taking out her phone. Diane blinked a few times before taking out her own without resistance and showing Hazel her user to add.
"For emergencies-"
As Hazel leaned in Diane did too, baring her teeth like an animal she spoke in a voice of warning only Hazel could hear.
"You're my partner. I don't care about your fucking schedule, if I am riding you will accompany me. I'm not going to AVOID you, you're going to FOLLOW me."
Diane pushed a finger against Hazel's chest. Hard. Pushing against her rosary digging into her skin. Her breath smelt of strong black coffee and her eyes up close were deranged like a sociopaths. Hazel instinctively brought one hand to her chest to pull Diane away from her rosary that was marking her skin like a hot metal branding beneath her sweater. Before she had a split second to even consider her actions Hazel slapped Diane across the face earning a blank wide-eyed look of surprise from her.
Hazel's lips stammered in apology for the time whilst Diane had frozen up I'm shock, not lasting long as Diane grabbed Hazel's neck with one hand, launching herself over the table full-force grappling her down - the cook watching in horror as the two lone riders fought in the empty hall - Diane knocking the trays off the bench to the cold floor.
Diane pushed Hazel backwards into the concrete and crawled over her body straddling her hips, face furiously red. Hazel grabbed the back of those doll-like curls and yanked Diane's hair down forcing a cry to escape her lips.
"WRYY-"
She pulled back a balled fist, as her weight was off-balanced Hazel twisted her pelvis and toppled Diane onto her back, switching their positions just as a small group of jockeys entered the hall. The cook frantically looked back and forth between the two fighting and the group of confused-looking girls who snuck up to the buffet warily.
Diane pushed Hazel off her and shot a look that could only be interpreted as a mix of humiliation and 'we'll continue this later once I can take you into a forest and bury you beneath the trees.'
"H.P, hey!"
Jojo's voice echoed from the doorway.
"Why are you on the floor?"
She looked slightly amused, she must have woken up on the right side of the bed. With the right partner. Hazel stood up, her spine ached from the impact on the concrete though somehow Diane seemed worse for wear, rubbing her back and shoulders from where Hazel had flipped her over and re-tying her ponytail from where the previous band snapped, eventually letting her long locks fall loose around her shoulders. Maybe fearful of it getting pulled on again if left in a more convenient style to grab.
Out the corner of her eye Hazel could see the cook speaking into a phone quietly against her ear...there was no way this woman was ratting her our to the camp councilors. Maybe she would to Diane though after that messy rejection.
Jojo's crutch clicked against the floor as her and Gyro approached the bench Diane and herself stood brushing themselves off. Gyro curiously picked up the trays on the ground and placed them on the end of the table.
"Damn, you weren't fighting were you? On the first day?"
The two of them silently stood looking away, eyes falling to the floor. Gyro snorted and grinned.
"No wayy holy shit I expected Jojo and Dio but you Hazel? Wow I I didn't picture you as the feisty type patatina."
Hazel was disappointed in herself for her actions though there was no regret in her heart either, she'd fight back again and again even if it meant hours of repenting and prayer, Diane was absolutely the epitome of Satan. The two left the mess hall shortly after the altercation, not by choice, escorted out by camp leader.
...
Diane and Hazel sat in a small makeshift office reception with a rider between them - perhaps to separate them.
"Dio. H.P. Please come in."
A tired man's voice came from a room adjacent to the reception, they solemnly did as he said and entered, sitting down opposite Steven Steel. His hands clasped together with his elbows leaning on his desk. Lucy sat beside him playing some mobile game absent-mindedly, she looked up to meet eyes with Hazel and back down to the screen.
"So, I'm sure you know why you're here."
Steven spoke calmly.
"I was made aware of a small scuffle this morning between two riders who resorted to violence over the breakfast table."
Hazel averted eye contact in shame whereas Diane huffed and met Steven's eyes with a piercing glare, folding her arms in irritation.
"You know the president of the whole association and I have a deal about this. Nobody is hurt and nobody other than us are even involved it was that early in the morning the hall was empty."
"So you confess to being involved."
Diane lunged forward and gripped the edge of his desk with crazed eyes.
"You can't do anything about my race results. No penalties."
"I wasn't intending on it."
Steven directed his attention to Hazel.
"Hazel, were you involved?"
Diane gripped the wooden desk harder and spoke through her teeth to Steven.
"...she started it."
"I DID NOT."
Hazel snapped back. Steven groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"You're not doing well to plead your case...though you both are considered admirable jockeys according those who recommended you to us. It's the first day, if you can control yourselves for the rest of the season there will be no punishments, other than perhaps scouting duty."
The two looked at each other in confusion.
"What..?"
Steven cleared his throat, Lucy looked up as if called to attention, walking to one of the cabinets on the far side of the office and returning with a shotgun in hand.
"Minimum once a week the two of you will scout ahead into the forest and let the staff know of anything that could pose an obstacle - or danger - to the horses."
"Will that not cut into traini-"
"Fallen trees, animals or unregistered properties found should be reported back."
Steven continued, cutting over Diane. If that was the minimum punishment and only option then they couldn't refuse. Diane and Hazel nodded, Steven clasped his hands together and beamed.
"Perfect! I've been searching for staff to get that pesky chore over with for a while, perfect isn't it Lucy? What good fortune."
Lucy nodded silently, her face unmoving like a porcelain doll, perhaps uncomfortable with the idea yet she was a mysterious one.
"Well you two hurry off now, Lucy and I have a meeting with the president."
Steven hurried them out, Ah that must be why Lucy seemed...nervous. Hazel thought to herself; If I was her age I'd look like that if I had to sit through unpleasant meetings too. The office door closed behind them with a soft click. The reception entrance now empty, the other rider already gone. The air was thicker than the blissful morning they had wasted, the sound of conversation flooded from outside as riders grouped and headed to the stables or gym. This forced companionship better start to run smoothly or they'd have worse punishments to deal with. Hazel made the first move, her eyes on the shotgun Diane had been handed briefly before the swift exit.
"So..."
"We're going now. We'll scout around, get this pain in the arse over and done with."
Diane grabbed her by her wrist, Hazel sharply tugged her arm away. She considered Diane's words, hating that she had to agree with her sometimes, after an exaggerated sigh she walked ahead.
"Fine but don't touch me again."