Post by Lets_Eat_Paste on Nov 27, 2011 13:38:29 GMT -6
Name: Henry Aloysius Greene
Age: 64
Occupation: Entrepreneur; Henry owns a chain of banks called “Greenback Banks” which earns him millions of pounds a year.
AI: Gregg Henry
Personality: Henry is a shrewd man who’s been turned bitter by his wife’s death. He walks with a constant suspicion, his finger tips and nails dirty from selfish greed. He’s intelligent and ambitious, but incredibly withdrawn, albeit opinionated.
History: Henry was born into a middle class family in London. His father, Peter, owned a barber shop, which they lived above. His mother, Heidi, was a arithmetic teacher. His older brother, Robert, became a geologist and author. His younger brother, Thomas, became a chemist. His younger sister, Mathilde, became a dental hygienist.
Throughout his graduate education at King’s College, he worked in his father’s barber shop and became quite good at cutting hair. He graduated and finally got his first real job as an intern. He worked every day (except the Sundays they were closed), and supported himself through the job ladder. He finally became a bank teller and with his newfound salary, he went for his postgraduate degree, also in Accountancy. While there, he met Jane Perkins, a French undergraduate. She was sleeping in the courtyard grass when Henry, cramming for an exam he had in fifteen minutes, tripped over her.
“Jesus Christ, woman! What are you? Crazy?”
“Maybe a little,” came the blonde woman’s response.
“What were you doing?”
“Sleeping.”
“…But its finals week.”
“Which makes now a good time to catch up on sleep.”
“Don’t you study?”
“Yes, but surely you can’t spend all your time studying. You’ll run yourself into the ground!”
Henry gulped and discreetly closed his book. The blonde woman had a point—studying so much would surely come back to bite him later. He sat next to her in the grass.
“What are you here for?”
“To learn.”
Henry sighed. Good God was she difficult. “Yes, but learn what?”
“French.”
“Where’s that going to get you?”
“Well what are you studying?”
“Accounting. My masters.”
“Why? So you can punch numbers into a calculator and hold people’s money for the rest of your life? Sitting behind a desk?”
“The world needs accountants.”
“No. The world needs people who love what they do. Do you love what you do?”
“… Yes.”
“Then do it. Do your boring job.”
Henry smiled. She had an attitude, but even the grumpy cool of her voice was comforting to him. “Thank you. You have fun with your… French.” He turned to race off to his exam, but stopped to turn back and look to the woman who nestled herself back into the lady-shaped imprint she had made in the ground. “Excuse me,” he said, grabbing a man by the shoulders. “Do you know that sleeping girl?”
“Sort of,” he said. “Her name’s Jane. We take Medieval Studies together.”
It didn’t take long for Henry to pursue her, and it only took one rejection before Jane agreed to go out with him.
They got married a year and a half later on April 16.
The first two years of their marriage were happy. Henry worked at a local bank and Jane jumped from piano gig to piano gig, her job a constant guessing game. At a time when she sat between gigs, she became pregnant with their first daughter, Delilah Ann Greene. When Delilah was born, they moved into their first house. Delilah was a quiet, but incredibly smart child. She and Henry became incredibly close, despite his busy work schedule. When Delilah was four, Ashton Rae Greene, his second and youngest child was born. She was loud and easily distracted and Henry struggled to keep her under control. For the next five years, Henry worked at building his own bank from the ground up. Another year later, Greenback Banks began cropping up everywhere in London. Of course, running such a large business meant spending much of his time locked away at work or in his office at home. Fortunately, Jane was always there as a support for him and to guide their children. She was quick enough for Delilah and energetic enough for Ashton. But Henry hoped he could show his children he cared through gifts and financial security. And for a while, that was enough.
Until Jane came home from a doctor’s appointment.
She had been complaining about a constant smell of burning rubber. Henry thought little of it until she started vomiting, accompanied by migraines and dizzy spells. Henry immediately rushed her to the hospital, where they, after an emergency MRI, told him that she had a series malignant brain tumors, all of which were pressing on different parts of her brain. Surely, there was a cure. Henry put his business to a screeching halt. This was the woman he loved, the mother of his children, the only one who could reel Ashton in and make Delilah speak up. This was his wife and she was dying before his eyes.
“No, really, Henry,” she said, “I’ll be fine. We just won’t tell the girls and I’ll get better.”
“I appreciate your optimism, Jane, but the girls have to know. Ashton’s here with you all the time and Lilah’s at university--”
“Which is why we can’t tell her. We can’t distract her from her studies. She’s literally centimetres away from graduation. She doesn’t need an added burden.”
“I’d hardly call you a burden.” There was a silence. “Jane,” Henry said slowly. “We need to get you treatment.”
Jane stared out the black window. “If I’m going to die, I want to spend the rest of what time I have with you and our children, not weak from surgery and bald from chemo in some hospital.”
“Janey,” Henry said, putting a large hand on her slim shoulder, glowing pale in the glow of streetlamps below them. “Don’t you talk like that. You’re not going to die.”
Jane only rested her forehead to the cool glass, eyes closed. “Go to bed, Henry. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”
But they never did. And Jane refused treatment.
That was, until she was unable to protest any longer, her speech and sight gone, her body weak. She still managed to decline until Henry bribed a surgeon.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t go against your wife’s wishes. I took an oath.”
“So you won’t save her?”
“I can’t.”
“What’s your annual salary?”
“Why do you ask…?”
“Just answer me!” Henry could feel the vein in his neck begin to pulsate.
“30,000 pounds!” the doctor answer, sweat solely trickling down his face, from nerves, no doubt.
“I’ll triple it.”
“Mr. Greene, do you realize what you’re asking me to do? That’s illegal.”
“I don’t care. If that’s the price I pay for my wife, then so be it.”
The three of them, Henry, Delilah and Ashton, gathered around the waiting room, holding tightly to each other with hope and anticipation.
But Jane never woke up from the anesthesia. They never wheeled her out in a wheelchair, telling them she could go home. She never smiled up at them, thankful she came through. She simply said to each of them a personalized version of “I love you. I’ll see in a few hours.”
Henry was heartbroken, as was the rest of the family. He threw himself into his work and Delilah, 20, graduated. Ashton, 16, was now teacherless, her mother having been her primary educator, and she went through tutors as if they were old socks, but never could pay attention and fell behind in her studies.
During this time, Henry had little communication with anyone, not even his own children, being too grief-stricken by the loss of his wife. In fact, the first time he really spoke with Delilah after her graduation was when she brought a boy home to meet him.
“So this boy…” Henry said from the dining room, secluded from the livingroom where Ashton and Delilah’s man friend talked.
“Theodore, Dad. His name his Theodore.”
“Does he have a last name?”
“Chu.”
“Theodore Chu… I like him. He’s immature and awkward, but he’ll grow out of that I hope. At least he’s respectful.”
“Yes,” Delilah flushed pink. “He really is.”
“Do you plan on marrying him?”
“Dad!” Delilah laughed. “We haven’t even talked about that yet… But I hope so.”
“If he doesn’t give me reason to dislike him before then, you have my blessing in advance. Just next time you bring him over, make sure his zipper is zipped and he takes his stupid hat off when he steps inside.”
“Yes, Dad!” Delilah said happily. “…So you like him.”
Henry only smiled, which was yes enough for his eldest.
A mere six months later, Delilah and Theodore were engaged to be married. He was proud of Delilah and the way she was living her life. Ashton on the other hand…
“What is this?”
“What’s what?”
“Ashton, what is that, on your side?” Henry asked, pointing to a black pattern that was sandwiched somewhere between her bikini top and bottoms.
Ashton barely glanced. “Oh, that.” She offered a devious smirk that reminded Henry far too much of her mother. “It’s French.”
“Right, but what is it?”
“Ink. It’s really nothing, Dad.”
“Nothing? I won’t have my daughters walking around like some tattooed punk freaks.”
“It’s beautiful!” Ashton exclaimed back, slipping into the pool. “If you don’t like it, tough. It’s my body, Dad. I can do what I want with it.”
“Christ, you sound like your mother!”
“Good. At least she didn’t ignore me.”
And Ashton disappeared underneath the water and refused to come up until Henry was back inside the house. He didn’t want to admit the truth in Ashton’s words. Since Jane died, communication with his daughters became tertiary priority, right after work and muddling through the day without his wife by his side. Surely they understood. He was still providing for them, showing them his love. He convinced himself it was just Ashton being a teenager, not him being neglectful.
“Dad,” Ashton said that Christmas, poking him awake. “Are you okay? You had, like, your tenth glass of wine and just passed out. Are you okay?”
“Where’s Delilah?”
“She and Theo were spending their first Christmas together alone, remember? It’s… It’s just you and me now that Uncle Robert went home.”
“He went home?”
“Like I said, you passed out.”
“Where did everyone else go?”
“They all left, Dad. You fell.”
Henry glanced around at the toppled tree. “I took the Christmas tree with me, did I?”
Ashton didn’t say anything.
“I’ll help you upstairs… Come on.”
The drinking didn’t stop there. It didn’t go unnoticed by his daughters, but it just wasn’t something you’d want to discuss. Henry was, if anything, a sleepy drunk, but it did alienate himself from his children even further. He did step in, however, when he felt his children needed his guiding hand.
“He’s scum, Ashton.”
“I know! Don’t tell me something I don’t already know.”
“Don’t tell me you love him.”
“I don’t.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“He was… sweet and kind and played guitar. And then the b*stard just left.”
“Don’t say ‘b*stard’, Ashton.” Henry said, disgusted that she considered “guitar playing” a defining quality in a partner.
“But he is!” The was a silence between them before Ashton put her head in her hands. “What am I going to do, Dad?”
“I don’t know what you’re going to do, Ashton, you got in this mess, you can get yourself out. As for me, I’m going to kill that b*stard.”
And for a moment, he was convinced he would. The boy that took the one thing from Ashton that still made a child worked for him, and now his job, and possibly his life was on the line. Ashton was too young, too irresponsible to be a parent, and this man was too much of a piece of dirt to be allowed back into her life. Henry decided it was time Ashton went to school, did something useful with her life. This is, after she convinced him he was irrational and drunk and needed to put down the kitchen knife and exclaiming he would send that man anthrax in the mail. She became a music and dance major, much to Henry’s dismay, but at least she was getting an education. She dated guys on and off and acted like a college student. It was maddening, and Henry wouldn’t stand for it. He looked at Delilah who was happy with her husband and her young son, Calvin and it gave Henry an idea.
“Marriage?” Ashton gasped. “But, Dad, Zak and I are just dating.”
“And shagging, no doubt.”
Ashton went quiet. “That’s none of your business.”
“I don’t like Zak.”
“But I do. That’s why we’re dating.”
“Well, break it off. Find a good man. Settle down.”
“Settle down? I’m only 21.”
“And your sister got married at 22. What’s the problem?”
“She found Theo, and he’s great. She’s lucky. But it sounds to me like your trying to just auction me off to the highest bidder.”
“I just want what’s best for you, and I feel like if you got married, you’d be set.”
“People shouldn’t be defined by their relationships. I’m my own person, Zak’s his own person.”
“Good God, you aren’t marrying Zak.”
“No, I’m not. He’s not… the one. I just don’t feel it. I care about him, yes, but he’s not the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
“Good. I should hope not.”
“He’s not a bad guy, though.”
“His head looks like a stegosaurus.”
“As much as I agree with that, his haircut doesn’t make him a terrible person.”
“Ashton, find someone else.”
So Ashton looked through Falmouth for a “suitable” man, but Henry didn’t approve of any of them. So he took matters into his own hands. He found a suitable man who came from a good family. Damien Michaud was Ashton’s only hope.
“What happened to letting me find someone?”
“He’s a good kid. His family is well respected.”
“I’m not interested. I don’t want to marry a man I don’t love.”
“How do you know you won’t love him? You haven’t met him.”
“And I don’t care to.”
“He’s great. I’ve met his family, and they’re wonderful people.”
“I wouldn’t be marrying his family, I’d be marrying Damien.” Ashton began walking off.
“You’re marrying Damien and that’s final.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’m getting you a desk job at my bank.”
Ashton cringed as if that was the worst thing she could have. “Fine. I’ll marry him. Doesn’t mean I’ll like it.”
With Ashton engaged to Damien, she graduated Falmouth and headed to Paris to get a degree in Political Science. But Henry never imagined “a degree in Political Science” meant sneaking around with Damien’s newly divorced father. That was until Delilah let slip she was going to Ashton’s baby shower.
Now he’s in Paris to sort things out and get Ashton back on track… If only his health could just keep up.
Age: 64
Occupation: Entrepreneur; Henry owns a chain of banks called “Greenback Banks” which earns him millions of pounds a year.
AI: Gregg Henry
Personality: Henry is a shrewd man who’s been turned bitter by his wife’s death. He walks with a constant suspicion, his finger tips and nails dirty from selfish greed. He’s intelligent and ambitious, but incredibly withdrawn, albeit opinionated.
History: Henry was born into a middle class family in London. His father, Peter, owned a barber shop, which they lived above. His mother, Heidi, was a arithmetic teacher. His older brother, Robert, became a geologist and author. His younger brother, Thomas, became a chemist. His younger sister, Mathilde, became a dental hygienist.
Throughout his graduate education at King’s College, he worked in his father’s barber shop and became quite good at cutting hair. He graduated and finally got his first real job as an intern. He worked every day (except the Sundays they were closed), and supported himself through the job ladder. He finally became a bank teller and with his newfound salary, he went for his postgraduate degree, also in Accountancy. While there, he met Jane Perkins, a French undergraduate. She was sleeping in the courtyard grass when Henry, cramming for an exam he had in fifteen minutes, tripped over her.
“Jesus Christ, woman! What are you? Crazy?”
“Maybe a little,” came the blonde woman’s response.
“What were you doing?”
“Sleeping.”
“…But its finals week.”
“Which makes now a good time to catch up on sleep.”
“Don’t you study?”
“Yes, but surely you can’t spend all your time studying. You’ll run yourself into the ground!”
Henry gulped and discreetly closed his book. The blonde woman had a point—studying so much would surely come back to bite him later. He sat next to her in the grass.
“What are you here for?”
“To learn.”
Henry sighed. Good God was she difficult. “Yes, but learn what?”
“French.”
“Where’s that going to get you?”
“Well what are you studying?”
“Accounting. My masters.”
“Why? So you can punch numbers into a calculator and hold people’s money for the rest of your life? Sitting behind a desk?”
“The world needs accountants.”
“No. The world needs people who love what they do. Do you love what you do?”
“… Yes.”
“Then do it. Do your boring job.”
Henry smiled. She had an attitude, but even the grumpy cool of her voice was comforting to him. “Thank you. You have fun with your… French.” He turned to race off to his exam, but stopped to turn back and look to the woman who nestled herself back into the lady-shaped imprint she had made in the ground. “Excuse me,” he said, grabbing a man by the shoulders. “Do you know that sleeping girl?”
“Sort of,” he said. “Her name’s Jane. We take Medieval Studies together.”
It didn’t take long for Henry to pursue her, and it only took one rejection before Jane agreed to go out with him.
They got married a year and a half later on April 16.
The first two years of their marriage were happy. Henry worked at a local bank and Jane jumped from piano gig to piano gig, her job a constant guessing game. At a time when she sat between gigs, she became pregnant with their first daughter, Delilah Ann Greene. When Delilah was born, they moved into their first house. Delilah was a quiet, but incredibly smart child. She and Henry became incredibly close, despite his busy work schedule. When Delilah was four, Ashton Rae Greene, his second and youngest child was born. She was loud and easily distracted and Henry struggled to keep her under control. For the next five years, Henry worked at building his own bank from the ground up. Another year later, Greenback Banks began cropping up everywhere in London. Of course, running such a large business meant spending much of his time locked away at work or in his office at home. Fortunately, Jane was always there as a support for him and to guide their children. She was quick enough for Delilah and energetic enough for Ashton. But Henry hoped he could show his children he cared through gifts and financial security. And for a while, that was enough.
Until Jane came home from a doctor’s appointment.
She had been complaining about a constant smell of burning rubber. Henry thought little of it until she started vomiting, accompanied by migraines and dizzy spells. Henry immediately rushed her to the hospital, where they, after an emergency MRI, told him that she had a series malignant brain tumors, all of which were pressing on different parts of her brain. Surely, there was a cure. Henry put his business to a screeching halt. This was the woman he loved, the mother of his children, the only one who could reel Ashton in and make Delilah speak up. This was his wife and she was dying before his eyes.
“No, really, Henry,” she said, “I’ll be fine. We just won’t tell the girls and I’ll get better.”
“I appreciate your optimism, Jane, but the girls have to know. Ashton’s here with you all the time and Lilah’s at university--”
“Which is why we can’t tell her. We can’t distract her from her studies. She’s literally centimetres away from graduation. She doesn’t need an added burden.”
“I’d hardly call you a burden.” There was a silence. “Jane,” Henry said slowly. “We need to get you treatment.”
Jane stared out the black window. “If I’m going to die, I want to spend the rest of what time I have with you and our children, not weak from surgery and bald from chemo in some hospital.”
“Janey,” Henry said, putting a large hand on her slim shoulder, glowing pale in the glow of streetlamps below them. “Don’t you talk like that. You’re not going to die.”
Jane only rested her forehead to the cool glass, eyes closed. “Go to bed, Henry. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”
But they never did. And Jane refused treatment.
That was, until she was unable to protest any longer, her speech and sight gone, her body weak. She still managed to decline until Henry bribed a surgeon.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t go against your wife’s wishes. I took an oath.”
“So you won’t save her?”
“I can’t.”
“What’s your annual salary?”
“Why do you ask…?”
“Just answer me!” Henry could feel the vein in his neck begin to pulsate.
“30,000 pounds!” the doctor answer, sweat solely trickling down his face, from nerves, no doubt.
“I’ll triple it.”
“Mr. Greene, do you realize what you’re asking me to do? That’s illegal.”
“I don’t care. If that’s the price I pay for my wife, then so be it.”
The three of them, Henry, Delilah and Ashton, gathered around the waiting room, holding tightly to each other with hope and anticipation.
But Jane never woke up from the anesthesia. They never wheeled her out in a wheelchair, telling them she could go home. She never smiled up at them, thankful she came through. She simply said to each of them a personalized version of “I love you. I’ll see in a few hours.”
Henry was heartbroken, as was the rest of the family. He threw himself into his work and Delilah, 20, graduated. Ashton, 16, was now teacherless, her mother having been her primary educator, and she went through tutors as if they were old socks, but never could pay attention and fell behind in her studies.
During this time, Henry had little communication with anyone, not even his own children, being too grief-stricken by the loss of his wife. In fact, the first time he really spoke with Delilah after her graduation was when she brought a boy home to meet him.
“So this boy…” Henry said from the dining room, secluded from the livingroom where Ashton and Delilah’s man friend talked.
“Theodore, Dad. His name his Theodore.”
“Does he have a last name?”
“Chu.”
“Theodore Chu… I like him. He’s immature and awkward, but he’ll grow out of that I hope. At least he’s respectful.”
“Yes,” Delilah flushed pink. “He really is.”
“Do you plan on marrying him?”
“Dad!” Delilah laughed. “We haven’t even talked about that yet… But I hope so.”
“If he doesn’t give me reason to dislike him before then, you have my blessing in advance. Just next time you bring him over, make sure his zipper is zipped and he takes his stupid hat off when he steps inside.”
“Yes, Dad!” Delilah said happily. “…So you like him.”
Henry only smiled, which was yes enough for his eldest.
A mere six months later, Delilah and Theodore were engaged to be married. He was proud of Delilah and the way she was living her life. Ashton on the other hand…
“What is this?”
“What’s what?”
“Ashton, what is that, on your side?” Henry asked, pointing to a black pattern that was sandwiched somewhere between her bikini top and bottoms.
Ashton barely glanced. “Oh, that.” She offered a devious smirk that reminded Henry far too much of her mother. “It’s French.”
“Right, but what is it?”
“Ink. It’s really nothing, Dad.”
“Nothing? I won’t have my daughters walking around like some tattooed punk freaks.”
“It’s beautiful!” Ashton exclaimed back, slipping into the pool. “If you don’t like it, tough. It’s my body, Dad. I can do what I want with it.”
“Christ, you sound like your mother!”
“Good. At least she didn’t ignore me.”
And Ashton disappeared underneath the water and refused to come up until Henry was back inside the house. He didn’t want to admit the truth in Ashton’s words. Since Jane died, communication with his daughters became tertiary priority, right after work and muddling through the day without his wife by his side. Surely they understood. He was still providing for them, showing them his love. He convinced himself it was just Ashton being a teenager, not him being neglectful.
“Dad,” Ashton said that Christmas, poking him awake. “Are you okay? You had, like, your tenth glass of wine and just passed out. Are you okay?”
“Where’s Delilah?”
“She and Theo were spending their first Christmas together alone, remember? It’s… It’s just you and me now that Uncle Robert went home.”
“He went home?”
“Like I said, you passed out.”
“Where did everyone else go?”
“They all left, Dad. You fell.”
Henry glanced around at the toppled tree. “I took the Christmas tree with me, did I?”
Ashton didn’t say anything.
“I’ll help you upstairs… Come on.”
The drinking didn’t stop there. It didn’t go unnoticed by his daughters, but it just wasn’t something you’d want to discuss. Henry was, if anything, a sleepy drunk, but it did alienate himself from his children even further. He did step in, however, when he felt his children needed his guiding hand.
“He’s scum, Ashton.”
“I know! Don’t tell me something I don’t already know.”
“Don’t tell me you love him.”
“I don’t.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“He was… sweet and kind and played guitar. And then the b*stard just left.”
“Don’t say ‘b*stard’, Ashton.” Henry said, disgusted that she considered “guitar playing” a defining quality in a partner.
“But he is!” The was a silence between them before Ashton put her head in her hands. “What am I going to do, Dad?”
“I don’t know what you’re going to do, Ashton, you got in this mess, you can get yourself out. As for me, I’m going to kill that b*stard.”
And for a moment, he was convinced he would. The boy that took the one thing from Ashton that still made a child worked for him, and now his job, and possibly his life was on the line. Ashton was too young, too irresponsible to be a parent, and this man was too much of a piece of dirt to be allowed back into her life. Henry decided it was time Ashton went to school, did something useful with her life. This is, after she convinced him he was irrational and drunk and needed to put down the kitchen knife and exclaiming he would send that man anthrax in the mail. She became a music and dance major, much to Henry’s dismay, but at least she was getting an education. She dated guys on and off and acted like a college student. It was maddening, and Henry wouldn’t stand for it. He looked at Delilah who was happy with her husband and her young son, Calvin and it gave Henry an idea.
“Marriage?” Ashton gasped. “But, Dad, Zak and I are just dating.”
“And shagging, no doubt.”
Ashton went quiet. “That’s none of your business.”
“I don’t like Zak.”
“But I do. That’s why we’re dating.”
“Well, break it off. Find a good man. Settle down.”
“Settle down? I’m only 21.”
“And your sister got married at 22. What’s the problem?”
“She found Theo, and he’s great. She’s lucky. But it sounds to me like your trying to just auction me off to the highest bidder.”
“I just want what’s best for you, and I feel like if you got married, you’d be set.”
“People shouldn’t be defined by their relationships. I’m my own person, Zak’s his own person.”
“Good God, you aren’t marrying Zak.”
“No, I’m not. He’s not… the one. I just don’t feel it. I care about him, yes, but he’s not the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
“Good. I should hope not.”
“He’s not a bad guy, though.”
“His head looks like a stegosaurus.”
“As much as I agree with that, his haircut doesn’t make him a terrible person.”
“Ashton, find someone else.”
So Ashton looked through Falmouth for a “suitable” man, but Henry didn’t approve of any of them. So he took matters into his own hands. He found a suitable man who came from a good family. Damien Michaud was Ashton’s only hope.
“What happened to letting me find someone?”
“He’s a good kid. His family is well respected.”
“I’m not interested. I don’t want to marry a man I don’t love.”
“How do you know you won’t love him? You haven’t met him.”
“And I don’t care to.”
“He’s great. I’ve met his family, and they’re wonderful people.”
“I wouldn’t be marrying his family, I’d be marrying Damien.” Ashton began walking off.
“You’re marrying Damien and that’s final.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’m getting you a desk job at my bank.”
Ashton cringed as if that was the worst thing she could have. “Fine. I’ll marry him. Doesn’t mean I’ll like it.”
With Ashton engaged to Damien, she graduated Falmouth and headed to Paris to get a degree in Political Science. But Henry never imagined “a degree in Political Science” meant sneaking around with Damien’s newly divorced father. That was until Delilah let slip she was going to Ashton’s baby shower.
Now he’s in Paris to sort things out and get Ashton back on track… If only his health could just keep up.
