꧁ Feelings ꧂

Confidence is something that is often taken for granted by those who possess it, but for those who struggle with it, it can be a constant battle. It's not just about feeling good about one's appearance, but it's also about feeling worthy of love and respect, and being able to assert oneself in the world.

Hazel knew she was pretty, but she didn't have the model body that society seemed to demand; as a woman, that was a heavy burden to carry. It was hard to feel beautiful and powerful when she was constantly comparing herself to others and feeling like she didn't measure up. It was hard fighting against the voices — his voice — in her head that told her she was not good enough, not beautiful enough, not thin enough.
As she gazed at herself in the mirror, Hazel couldn't help but feel a sense of inadequacy wash over her. She longed for the kind of confidence that came effortlessly to some people, but it felt as though she was constantly struggling to find it within herself.

"Dearest?" Ivankov's kind voice called her as she appeared behind her in the mirror. "What is taking you so long?"

"Iva, I don't think I'm skinny enough to wear this. Don't you have anything else?" Hazel sighed, her eyes scrutinising every inch of her body in the tight black dress.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Maybe something less tight, and that covers up a bit more than this."

The drag queen moved closer and gently grabbed her by the shoulders, smiling at her in the mirror. "Why do you wish to hide your body, love?"

Hazel slowly turned around to face her. "It's not a body worth putting on display," she claimed.

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Ivankov, turning her around and forcing her to look back in the mirror. "Now, tell me what you see."

"A sack of potatoes in a pretty dress."

"Then look again."

"Iva I-"

"Hazel, my dear, I want you to listen very carefully to what I am about to tell you," Ivankov said, moving to stand in front of her. "People often say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but let me tell you a most liberating truth: you are the beholder. You define beauty yourself. Dearest, you have spent years criticizing yourself to no avail, try approving of yourself for once and see what happens."

As usual, Ivankov was right. Living in a world that bombards us with images of idealized bodies and beauty standards can be a daunting task for anyone, especially for those who don't fit the mould. However, it's important to remember that beauty comes in all shapes and sizes, for a woman cannot and must not be defined by her body. Her worth is not determined by how she looks, but by who she is as a person.

Hazel smiled and nodded, a warmth spreading in her chest at her words. She would have walked into the club with her head high and with her stilettos ready to pierce whoever thought it would be a good idea to make an unasked comment.

✵✵✵✵

Despite the frightening expectations, working as a waitress at the Lotus was proving not to be such a nightmare after all. The clientele was varied, from the most sophisticated drug lords to the leaders of the small gangs who crowded the streets of New York; but no one was so brazen — or perhaps brave — to go beyond heartfelt praises and quick, light touches. Being the only woman in the Newgate family, Hazel had naturally achieved some notoriety over the years, and no one in their right mind would have ever gone against the man who ruled the city in everything but name. Of course, the fact that all five of his sons were present and were throwing fiery glances at anyone who appeared to be a little too bold with her contributed a lot. And it wasn't just the Newgates who were being extremely protective, it was also all the family friends and close co-workers they had brought along. All in all, the woman was certain she could work in peace while surrounded by some sort of personal army.

It was a shame, however, that her many knights in shining armour were totally useless when it came to her coworkers, especially one in particular. Boa Hancock was what Hazel could only describe as the human version of a headache. A body of a Victoria Secret's angel, an ego that could rival that of Narcissus — and perhaps even that of Cavendish — and a very unhealthy obsession for younger boys, that was the woman who owned not one, but two of the most luxurious brands of lingerie, sex toys and all and any erotic tools one could think of in America. And that same woman enjoyed dancing half-naked for all the big fishes of the Underworld.

As much as she tried to ignore her presence, the sixth time Hazel caught the self-nominated goddess shamelessly trying to seduce a very confused Luffy, she decided to do something about it. Therefore, she offered Crocodile a sweet smile as he thanked her for his drink, then walked straight towards Hancock and pulled her into a corner.

"Are you hitting on my brother?" she asked as an emotionless mask came down to cover her face.

"Is there any reason why I shouldn't?" Hancock bit back, clearly annoyed by the situation. "He's so cute and-"

"I can think of dozens of reasons why you shouldn't, starting with 'he is my brother,' and ending with 'he's just a kid.' And then perhaps circling back to 'he is my brother'."

"He's of age," she stated as she put both hands on her hips and looked down at her.

"Barely. And certainly not ready to take on someone like you," Hazel replied, unfazed by her behaviour.

Hancock chuckled, "You're just jealous you don't have his full attention anymore."

"The attention my brother gives you is not the kind of attention you wish for, Boa. I'm surprised that a woman as smart as you hasn't realized that yet," Hazel smirked. "But I guess I overestimated you."

After taking a moment to enjoy the shocked expression on Boa Hancock's face, Hazel walked away, ready to resume her work. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Nami giving her a grateful smile while Zoro was grinning proudly. She chuckled and shook her head as she took a new tray of drinks from the counter.

"Hey, Bentham!" she called above the music. "Where are these going?"

"Table 13 darling!" he shouted back, before flashing one of his charming smiles.

"Got it," she nodded.

Hazel took a moment to compose herself, plastered a grin on her lips and headed towards the said table. To say she didn't feel intimidated by the customers she was about to serve would have been a lie, but the woman could feel her twin's eyes on her, and that was enough of a reassurance.

"Gentlemen," she politely greeted them, placing the drinks on the table.

"I know you," an assertive, deep voice spoke, immediately grabbing her attention. "You're Eleanor's friend, aren't you."

"I am," she replied with confidence. "It's a pleasure to meet you again, Mr Donquixote."

"Doffy, please," he grinned. "May I say, you look absolutely ravishing tonight, dear."

The woman simply smiled and murmured a quick "thank you."

"I must agree," said the man sitting next to him.

As hard as she tried, Hazel couldn't recognise him, which scared her even more than his lustful gaze.

"May I ask if you're free after your shift? I'd love to get to know you better."

Before she had a chance to reply, a familiar pair of strong arms circled her waist, pulling her against a warm, hard chest.

"She isn't. And I'd suggest you stay away from her, 'cause if you so much as lay a finger on her, I'll cut your hands off and shove them down your throat," Ace threatened. "Do I make myself clear, Lucci?"

"Crystal," the man smiled and nodded.

"Good," Ace grinned back, before leading his sister away from the table, leaving the sound of Doflamingo's laugh behind them.

"Thank you," Hazel breathed. "But I could have handled it myself."

"I know you could have. Doesn't mean you had to," Ace told her with a serious look on his face — a rare occurrence which never lasted long. "Oh, by the way, what on earth did you say to Hancock? She never came back with our drinks."

"I guess I indirectly called her an idiot," Hazel replied.

"You called Boa Hancock an idiot?"

"Indirectly."

Ace burst into laughter as he let her go. "Right, good job twin."

"Why thank you, twin," she replied sarcastically.

"Also, I don't know if you've noticed — you probably haven't — but Marco didn't take his eyes off you for the entire night," he smirked.

Hazel's eyes widened as her mouth opened slightly. She hadn't talked to Marco since the night before, not that she hadn't tried to, but life got in the way.

"I had to stop him from coming to your rescue at least ten times already," he added.

"Is he alright?" she blurted out without thinking. "Is he mad?"

Ace chuckled and shook his head, "He's fine. He won't be fine tomorrow, though," he replied. His sister furrowed her eyebrows, confused, and looked up at him. "It seems he has decided to drink away his sorrows," he thus added.

Hazel sighed and shook her head. "And let me guess, I'm on babysitting duties tonight?"

"Yep! He's all yours, sis. And don't you dare complain, 'cause I got Luffy to handle."

"Luffy doesn't drink."

"He doesn't need to."

The two siblings look at each other knowingly and burst into laughter.

✵✵✵✵

Jealousy is a beast that lurks within all of us, waiting for the perfect opportunity to rear its ugly head; an emotion so powerful that can consume a person, turning rational thoughts into a chaotic mess. Marco had always prided himself on being a level-headed individual, but as he stood there in the crowded club, watching her smile to each and every client as they complimented her looks, cracked a few jokes and let their eyes linger on her body, often even stealing a quick touch, he felt something inside him snap. It was like a switch had been flipped, and suddenly a deep sense of jealousy began to fester within him. At first, Marco tried to brush it off, took deep breaths to calm himself down and focused on his friend and their problems, but it was no use. A fire raged inside him, burning hotter and hotter with every passing moment. He downed a few more drinks, hoping that it would help to numb the feeling, but it only seemed to make it worse.

"Marco, you're gonna burn holes into her back if you keep this up," a warm, deep voice and the pressure of a hand on his shoulder brought Marco back to reality.

He sighed, passing a hand through his blond locks. Jozu was right, he couldn't act on his feelings and let the jealousy consume him, not like this. So he took a deep breath, steadied himself and offered him a small smile, before glaring at a snickering Thatch.

"You know, you can be such a worry wart sometimes, my friend. She is a strong woman and she is handling this night wonderfully," Vista reassured him, a huge grin on his lips.

"And Ace's with her now, so stop stressing out," Izo added.

Jozu, Vista and Izo had known the Newgates since they were kids, they were a part of the family in everything but name and, since a few years, trusted business partners. All three of them were aware of Marco's feelings for Hazel, and they had been for quite some time, but they always kept their mouths shut to let them figure out things on their own.

"Oi, Marco! Isn't that hot waitress Hazel?" A familiar rough voice caught their attention.

"Yes," the blond simply answered, his eyes void of any emotion as he threw a glance at the only person he had prayed not to see that night.

Marshall D. Teach was nothing more than a bottom feeder. A man of ambition, some might have said, but those who truly knew him thought of him as the embodiment of greed, a victim of his own need for power and luxury, someone who had no loyalty to anyone but himself. Edward Newgate had been a kind and wise mentor to him, he had taught him everything he knew about life and business, but being grateful was never in his nature. As soon as he saw an opportunity for success, he took it, betraying everything he had stood for and the people who he had considered family. Somewhere along the way, Newgate had decided to forgive him and accept to work with him again; so there he was, five years later, acting as if nothing had ever happened.

"Well, I have to say it, she has grown in quite the woman," Teach added, a smirk forming on his lips.

"That doesn't even make sense," Izo murmured, shaking his head as Thatch walked up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder, probably to calm himself and refrain from punching the newcomer.

"I mean, just look at her! She's drop-dead gorgeous! Whoever gets her is one lucky bastard," the man laughed.

"And no one here has ever denied that, Teach, but I fear that you might be getting too interested in her." Vista intervened, hoping to defuse the situation.

"Can you blame me? Who wouldn't want to get a piece of -"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, yoi." Marco cut him off.

He felt as he had never done before. Something inside of him had been triggered and he was powerless to stop it. He found himself struggling to keep his emotions in check, his normally calm and rational demeanour had been replaced by a sense of blind rage. He wanted nothing more than to lash out at his old partner, to make him pay for daring to speak about the woman he loved in such a vulgar manner. His hands were shaking and he could feel his heart racing in his chest. He knew he needed to leave before he did something he would regret, but he couldn't think clearly. At that moment, Marco felt like a prisoner in his own body. He was trapped by his own emotions, unable to escape the overwhelming sense of anger and jealousy that had taken hold of him.

"Sorry, sorry," Teach chuckled. "I didn't mean to offend your sister, Marco. I just meant to say that, if she gives me a chance, I'll treat her like a queen."

"Watch it, Teach. That's -"

"That's never going to happen, yoi. Get it out of that depraved head of yours, you sick bastard." Marco retorted, cutting off his brother, as a surge of anger coursed through him, so strong and overwhelming that he could hardly contain it.

"Whoa, there's no need to -"

Before Teach had the chance to explain himself, Marco had already grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him towards himself.

"If you care about your pathetic existence, listen to me carefully, Teach. Stay away from Hazel. Don't talk to her, don't look at her, don't even so much as think about her, because if you do, I will hunt you down and skin you alive." He spoke in a low, assertive voice, one that could put the fear of god into the most avowed of atheists.

Teach's eyes widened and he gulped, nodding. That was the first time he had seen Marco truly angry, and he preferred not to do it again. He always prided himself to be a man without fear, but that deadly glare, that rage, that emotion, scared him more than he wanted to admit. After that realisation hit him, he was quick to call it a night and leave the club.

Marco sighed before downing another glass of bourbon. Nobody dared to comment on what had just happened, and everybody opted to quickly change the subject to a lighter, happier one.

"Exactly how drunk are you?" Thatch eventually asked him, never leaving Izo's side.

"Not enough, yoi."