Aurelie. has a minion!

Mathieu the Reindog

Name Madeleine Magalie Dawson
Nicknames Maddie, Maggie
Age Nineteen
Heritage English-French
Personality Timid, Clumsy, Polite, Everybody's Darling
Occupation Waitress in a Coffee Shop named "Amourette"
Looks

cause the spaces between my fingers...

Basically Madeleine, being born in Paris, the heart of France, is your typical french girl. She loves croissants and red wine, pain au chocolat (people will always be jealous of a girl eating so much but still staying all fragile and thin!), shopping and fashion and usually spends her day in her favourite café or with friends. Okay, probably she's almost your typical French, cause there are two important differences that separate her from her fellow compatriots: One, she is a blonde (which is really not that common in France, believe me!) and two, she is mega super extremely shy and afraid of making conversation with strangers, especially of the other sexe.

That may be because Madeleine is not your full-blood French, but was born to an English father, a serious, sensitive and reserved man who came to France during army and decided to stay there because, who would've guessed!, he fell head over heels in love with a woman - Maddie's mum. She was a quite calm and timid woman herself, an Everybody's darling, but Madeleine's dad actually seemed to love her for her shyness. The three of them lived a happy and harmonical life in a small apartment in Paris - until one night Maggie's mum left in a cloak-and-dagger operation leaving behind only a letter and a confused husband.

At the beginning, Maddie's father seemed to be strong enough to live on without his darling wife. He kept telling the one-year-old Madeleine that "Momma is on a looong vacation" and forced a smile on. But as the years passed, Maddie began doubting her father's affirmations, especially since he had descended into depressions and alcoholism and was all devastated. With a sigh he had to tell Maddie the truth: that his family in England had written a letter to him in which they harassed his wife and advised him to break up because "that frogeater was no good for their lovely son". Her mum had found that letter. Maddie was shocked when hearing the truth and felt enormously sorry for her beloved dad and the wish to enable her dad a happier life again started to grow in her little heart.

Today, Maggie lives in her own small apartment in Lyon, a romantic and quaint penthouse clad in ivy with flower boxes with pink geraniums. Having her own apartment has always been Maddie's biggest wish; being all alone, she can even have her fling there! A few weeks ago, she even managed to snag a job in her favourite café, "Amourette", despite her shyness. But still today, Madeleine cares for her father tenderly, visits him as often as possible and does the house work and purchasing. She encourages him to "start living again", takes him with her to the bowling center and to the mall - or with her to Lyon to secretly check out that loveable blonde boy she'd met in "Amourette" (she'd love to ask him out, but...uh). It already feels like she has known him forever...

~~
It wasn't a day marked on any calender. There would be no announcements on the news, no specials on television, no presents would be exchanged nor any ceremonies observed, but nevertheless for Madeleine it was a very important day. It was the day she was going to shed her insecurities and demure demeanor and take life by the horns. Or at least give it a very firm handshake.
So far, she thought she had been doing rather well. She had woken up bright and early, ate a hearty breakfast of pancakes, bacon, and orange juice (admittedly this wasn't much different than her normal breakfast, but adding the word 'hearty' in front of it made her feel like a go-getter) and then quite deliberately chosen an outfit that had a healthy amount of red in it. And not just any dull sort of red either, a good bright red. Though not too bright, of course, because that could offend people or perhaps even come off as rude, and not overwhelmingly red either because she didn't exactly want to call an abundance of attention to herself or have people looking at her for too long because that would make her quite nervous...but at least it was red. Passionate. Vibrant. Fiery. It made her feel a bit like doing a twirl in the middle of her room, which she did. Vibrantly.
Satisfied that she was suitably equipped with confidence, she grabbed her purse and strode out of her apartment into the world, nearly forgetting to lock her door in the process. The memory lapse made her smile, it felt abysmally dangerous.
For most of her life, Madeleine had suffered from an incurable bout of shyness. There were, of course, worse diseases to have, and she would never dream of referring to her own insecurities as a disease out loud while there were people suffering daily in the world all around her. It wasn't a thought that consumed her life, or even nibbled too terribly much at the edges. She was happy with herself and happy with her life, and thankful for her friends and dad who loved her in spite of her quiet nature. Few did they know about her habit to dance wildly in her apartment, radio playing in the background, or to sit on the ground munching on a croissant and all these other crazy, certainly loveable, habits she displays - when nobody's watching.

The line for the cafe was unusually long, even for a Sunday morning, and the customer at the front was having difficulty deciding whether his day needed to be fueled by a large mocha latte or if a medium would suffice. Jeanette, the girl behind the counter, shot Madeleine a look that could be interpreted as 'save me' or 'shoot me', both being acceptable alternatives to having to listen to the gentleman argue with himself for another second. Madeleine gave her an apologetic smile, feeling the power of confidence slip away just a little at the prospect of trying to gently urge the man to hurry the bleep up (when she was a little girl, her mother, before forever leaving to wherever, always told her that proper ladies didn't curse, so whenever Madeleine felt the need for something stronger than "oh, sugar" she would settle for a nice, scathing 'beep').
"Madaleine, chérie!" Her manager, a squat portly blonde man with a few scraggly hairs on his chin that Madeleine was polite enough to call a beard, "Thank god you're here, start on table 15."
Nodding and trying on her apron Madeleine looked over at table 15. It was seating four university aged boys, laughing and smiling and dressed in tennis uniforms. She took a deep breath, she could do this, she was confident. She was fierce. She was on the clock."Bonjour, messieurs, what can I get you this morning?" She all but sang, forcing what she hoped was an easy smile onto her face as all the eyes turned on her.
"Bon, can I get a double latte s'il vous plaît?"
"I'll take a cappuccino."
"Just a water."
"Large mocha, here."
Madeleine wrote down their orders, well that hadn't gone too bad. She hadn't felt the need to run away once, "They'll be right out, messieurs.""Oh, and uh...ma'am?" The blonde boy who wanted a cappuccino, a really good-looking guy with warm eyes and an accented French, smiled up at her, "You have really pretty eyes.""Ah...uh.." She smiled and felt how her cheeks blushed. Why does it feel like her heart just skipped a beat? Think of something to say, think of something to say, "Ben...that is...merci."
She scurried back behind the counter. Well, that had almost worked.

...are right were yours fit perfectly

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