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Well we all have a face that we hide away forever
And we take them out and show ourselves when everyone has gone
Lacey laid in her bed and stared at her ceiling. The whole room was bathed in darkness, even despite the brightness outside. Her curtains adequately blocked out the sun, and without the light, her room seemed dulled and desaturated, tinting everything gray.
A harsh ring sounded from her bedside table, and she winced. Keith, probably. No, Keith, definitely. She let the phone ring a little longer, and then finally roused herself. With great effort, she rose in her bed, letting her comforter fall from her chest. Scrambling for the phone now, she picked up just before it would’ve stopped ringing.
“What took you so long?” Keith asked, voice rough and frustrated. Lacey fluffed her feathered hair, trying not to visibly scrunch her face, even if no one would see. It felt like he was always nagging her to pick up faster, even when she answered on the first ring.
“I was still asleep,” she offered. Keith’s humming response was noncommittal - and perhaps unbelieving.
“Well, we’re going to the record store today. Wear something nice. I’ll pick you up in an hour.”
Before Lacey could protest, there was a click and a tone, and Keith was gone.
By the time Keith’s car pulled to a stop in front of Lacey’s apartment, she had already pushed down her annoyance, instead doing as she was told. If anything, she could at least enjoy dressing nicely; she was proud of her sense of fashion, of her ability to keep up with each change in trend. She had been among the first of her friends to put away her Mary Janes and platform shoes, trading them for spike-heeled sandals and ankle boots.
Lacey had barely even sat in the car and Keith’s narrowed eyes were already on her, judging her. He flicked his lit cigarette, letting ash fall to the floor, and scoffed. “Good enough, I guess.” A sting of frustration, and a resurgence of her annoyance, sparked. Without anything more said, though, the car was back in motion, and they were on their way. The radio quietly played, and Lacey hummed along even quieter. Eyes fixed on the streets outside, she kept her arms tight against her body and waited for the car to stop.
Some are satin some are steel, some are silk and some are leather
They're the faces of the stranger, but we love to try them on
None of Lacey’s friends knew why she was with Keith. Truth told, Lacey herself didn’t know why she was with Keith some days. Something about going through high school alone, something about moving to New York for college, and something about a man a few years older than her who wanted her . She had never been wanted before.
Some days, Lacey still didn’t feel wanted. It was hard for Keith to show his emotions to her. He said that his way of showing he cared was different, was more reserved, because he had been played by too many girls before - girls who wanted a boyfriend their moms would disapprove of, girls who wanted a boyfriend who could buy their cigarettes, girls who simply wanted to prove they could have a boyfriend. Whenever Lacey doubted their relationship, she thought about that. She would wonder ‘ Am I one of those girls?’
Whenever she had those thoughts, Lacey would recommit to being a better girlfriend. She would wear the outfits she knew Keith liked more, she would do her makeup the way he preferred, she would listen to the music he liked, even if it was all a little too old school for her taste. She would give up her own desires and be more thoughtful of Keith’s, selflessly, the way a girlfriend should.
Sometimes, Lacey wondered just how much Keith really knew about her. How much she had shown that was her versus how much she had performed for him. But those thoughts tended to cause another spiral about whether or not she was a good girlfriend.
Their whole relationship felt like a carousel, with each cycle bumpier than the last. Each cycle, she told her friends less and less - they already disliked Keith enough, no need to make them hate him more. Because Lacey knew in the end she would recommit to being a better girlfriend, and one of those times it would stick. One of those times, she would be enough for Keith, and his eyes and his lips would stop wandering. One of those times, she would look at Keith and not wish he were someone else - see him and be happy with him, instead of seeing him and wishing for softer skin and longer hair, and…
One of those times, she would want the right type of person.
Well we all fall in love, but we disregard the danger
Though we share so many secrets, there are some we never tell
Lacey was looking through the cassette tapes, pondering her wallet and the price tag on The Stranger , when she heard a pointed cough. On instinct, she shoved the cassette down. Billy Joel was not Keith’s taste, and she wouldn’t want him being forced to listen to music he didn’t like. Even if the cough wasn’t Keith’s. “Sorry, sorry, let me get out of your way,” she said. Only then did she look up.
Her eyebrows rose like a rocket. Doc Martens, leather pants, leather jacket decked with chains, black turtleneck - and the prettiest girl Lacey had ever seen. She was tall, and had blonde shoulder length hair. The fringe fell just short of touching her eyebrows, and her makeup - it was dark, more dramatic than Lacey was used to. Lacey was speechless.
“Um… excuse me,” the girl said before squeezing past, rolling a cart full of vinyl records and cassettes further down the aisle. Lacey watched her leave for a desperate moment, and then quickly walked after her.
What am I doing? she thought as they ended in the miniscule punk section. The girl glanced over at her, confused, but then looked back at the vinyls and cassettes, not saying a word. Her fingernails were painted black, Lacey realized with a painful swallow as she watched the girl flip through the cases, slipping more in at irregular intervals.
“Uh, what bands would you, uh, recommend? I’ve been really interested in trying… punk…” Lacey was awkward. Horribly, horribly awkward. But she couldn’t help it.
“You have?” the girl asked. Her tone made it clear - she could see right through Lacey, but she wasn’t going to call her out. “The Ramones might be a good place to start. They have a pretty new album- Leave Home , they released it in January. Or you could try Horses by Patti Smith.”
The girl turned and offered two cassettes. Lacey smiled, glancing at the girl’s name tag as she grabbed the recommended albums. “Thanks, Jacqueline.”
“Yeah, of course,” Jacqueline replied, hesitant and faint. The sentence sounded so timid that Lacey had a hard time reconciling it with her otherwise fierce exterior. “Sorry, what’s your name?”
“Lacey,” she answered, giving the brightest smile she could as she shook Jacqueline’s hand.
Why were you so surprised that you never saw the stranger?
Did you ever let your lover see the stranger in yourself?
Lacey had lied to herself for so long that she almost began to believe it. She did know why she was with Keith. She had been forcibly reminded why at the record store. Years of dodging the few guys interested in dating her connected to years trying to convince herself that it was normal to look at other girls like that . That the way she looked at girls was the way girls looked at their friends, and she didn’t wish after boys the way her friends did because she hadn’t met the right one yet.
She never thought that Keith was the right guy.
She dated him because of a night she spent with her friends and their boyfriends. Keith was friends with Persephone’s boyfriend - he had been the one to provide their gathering’s alcohol. He spent the night flirting with Lacey, much to her drunk friends’ amusement. She could remember them saying to Keith all types of things to dissuade him. Don’t bother with that one. She’s saving herself, or something. Nobody’s gotten anywhere with her in the five years I’ve known her.
It was mostly to shut them up, but partly to shut up the part of her saying you’re a lesbian , that she grabbed Keith and kissed him.
Most nights, she really wished she never did that. Some nights, she pretended that she was glad she did.
Meeting that girl at the record store, though. Jacqueline. It broke down all sorts of walls she had built between herself and the knowledge that her feelings towards women were not what they should be.
Lacey could still feel Jacqueline’s hand from when they shook. Calloused fingertips (did she play an instrument?), soft grip. And her eyes. Lacey had peered up into her gorgeous, startling blue eyes, and they were unlike any other she had seen before. Her stomach was all tied up in knots just thinking about that moment. She had never felt that way about anyone before, not even - especially not - Keith.
There was plenty Lacey wasn’t sure about when it came to going forward after this realization. But one thing was certain: she would keep going back to that record shop to see Jacqueline.
Don't be afraid to try again
Everyone goes south every now and then
Breaking up with Keith was easier said than done. It took a couple of days of ignoring his calls and telling her friends to ignore his calls for Lacey to finally feel like she was out of the relationship. And it wasn’t until then that she finally could breathe a breath of fresh air.
A week or two passed before Lacey returned to the records shop. When she did, though, Jacqueline was right there behind the front desk. Initially, Jacqueline just gave a cursory glance Lacey’s way, but she quickly looked back up, the start of a smile forming on her lips. “Hello again, Lacey. How’d you like the punk music?”
Lacey couldn’t help but smile back. She had listened to the albums - whenever she felt herself wavering on her decision to break up with Keith, she listened to them, and found some courage. “I liked them. Not really my style, but I still really enjoyed them. Thanks again!”
“I’m not too surprised. You don’t strike me as much of a punk fan.” Coming from someone else, Lacey might’ve taken offense, but the way Jacqueline was leaning forward over the desk, weight resting on her arms - the way she smiled at Lacey with sparkling eyes - well, it was hard to find any of it offensive.
“I didn’t? What gave me away?” Lacey asked, coming over to lean on the other side of the desk.
“Definitely your style,” Jacqueline answered. “Though you pull mainstream off well.”
And there it was again - something Lacey would’ve found offensive coming from anyone other than Jacqueline. With her, instead, it just filled Lacey with warmth. She couldn’t even control her smile at this point - it was wide and wild and ecstatic. “Thanks. You pull punk off pretty well yourself, Jacqueline.”
Jacqueline hesitated, then swallowed (and if Lacey took the excuse to stare at her neck, well, that was nobody’s business but her own) and said, “You can call me Jackie, you know.”
“Worried about your name getting worn out, Jackie?”
The look that Jacqueline gave in response to that statement sent a thrill of lightning down Lacey’s back, and she knew . “By you? Never.”
You've done it, why can't someone else?
You should know by now, you've been there yourself
Ostensibly, Jacqueline and Lacey were going to the movies as friends. They went in with their snacks to watch Julia , and in the back of the dark room, Jacqueline’s hand bravely wandered over towards Lacey’s. The first brush, Lacey thought might have been accidental. But the second held more purpose, brushing not against the back of it, but over the top, allowing Jacqueline’s fingers to slide between Lacey’s.
Ostensibly, Jacqueline and Lacey were two friends watching a movie. But the butterflies in Lacey’s stomach told her what was really happening, and the small smile Jacqueline gave her when she looked over in surprise confirmed it. With that reassurance, Lacey was able to relax, angle her body slightly towards Jacqueline’s, and desperately try to focus on Lillian’s travels through Berlin, when all she wanted to focus on was the feeling of Jacqueline’s hand.
It was the start of something, Lacey was certain - the start of giggling over movies and stumbling to one of their apartments and playful bickering over who got to choose the music for the night. It was the first wink Jacqueline shot at Lacey that says “ you can play your Billy Joel, and I’ll pretend to be upset ” and the first stammered conversation about what they were and the first time Jacqueline finally grabbed Lacey’s face and pulled her into a sweet and tender kiss.
Lacey couldn’t remember a time she was happier, couldn’t remember a more perfect morning than the ones she spent slowly waking up with her arms entangled with Jacqueline’s, couldn’t remember a more perfect afternoon than the ones she spent howling with laughter as Jacqueline teased her, couldn’t remember a more perfect evening than the ones she spent in Jacqueline’s embrace, slowly dancing around to whatever song that played.
Nothing could be more perfect than their little bubble.
Lacey curled up with Jacqueline that night, tucking her head under Jackie’s chin and letting out a happy little sigh.
This was the happiness she thought was barred from her, forbidden. This was the happiness she thought she didn’t deserve. This was the happiness she had managed to clutch in both hands.
Once I used to believe I was such a great romancer
Then I came home to a woman that I could not recognize
As the year began to approach its final week, Lacey was feeling ever more confident - in herself, in her relationship with Jacqueline, in her future. Everything was bright and bold - Lacey began to put away her muted-tone clothing, pulling out the eye-catchingly bright garments she preferred, she began to put down her self-doubting thoughts and listen to the voice - which eerily resembled Jackie’s - that talked her up.
She hummed to herself more, now. Her current favorite was Billy Joel’s “She’s Always a Woman”. It never failed to bring to mind blonde hair and dark eyeshadow. It had been almost three months since she first met Jacqueline, which meant they had been dating for about two and a half months already. Every time she thought of Jackie, there was a flutter in her chest and a smile on her lips. She thought of Jackie nearly constantly.
“ So , are you coming to my place for New Year’s?” Persephone asked, swinging her legs as she watched Lacey hum and inspect her makeup in the mirror.
Lacey pulled away from the mirror, making eye contact with Persephone’s reflection. “Is Keith going to be there?” she asked in return, nose already wrinkling. Even if Persephone was on the same page as Lacey, her boyfriend, Andrew, might not be.
“No,” Persephone promised. “Andrew doesn’t even talk to him anymore.”
“Then sure.” There was a pause, then Lacey perked up. “Can I bring a friend?”
“Definitely! Who is it, do I know them?”
“No, I don’t think so. She’s a gal I met at the music store,” Lacey said, the hand holding her makeup brush dipping down as she gave her makeup one final look-over.
"Well, I can't wait to meet her," Persephone replied. Lacey poked at her makeup one last time before nodding in satisfaction and turning to face her friend.
"Shall we?" she asked, but just as the words left her lips, her phone began to ring. She threw out a quick, apologetic, "one second" to Persephone, who smiled and left the room, closing the door behind her. "Hello?" Lacey asked as she answered the call, turning to look out her window. The curtains were open for once - something she had taken to doing more now, lately, now that she thought about it. It was nice, washing her room in a more gentle natural lighting that made everything seem rounder around the edges and enhanced in color.
There was a lingering silence on the other side. Just before Lacey could again prompt the caller to speak, she heard a choked noise. Then, with slightly more clarity, "Lacey."
"Jacqueline? Is that you?"
"Lacey, we need to stop seeing each other."
A thrill of alarm ran through Lacey, paired with a desperation she had never quite felt before. "What? Jacqueline, what are you talking about?"
"You'll thank me for it later," Jacqueline promised, and through the protests Lacey already began pouring out, she could hear the click of the phone as Jackie hung up.
When I pressed her for a reason, she refused to even answer
It was then I felt the stranger kick me right between the eyes
That day - the Thursday before New Year’s - was the last day the record store would be open until the holiday had passed - and Lacey fortunately recalled Jacqueline’s schedule well enough to know she was scheduled to work that day. It was a little tricky, trying to explain to Persephone the importance of her relationship with Jacqueline without revealing too much, but after enough stammering explanations, Persephone grabbed Lacey’s shoulders, a kind expression on her face, and hushed her.
“Clearly, she’s extremely important to you,” Persephone said. “Let’s go, I’ll drive you.”
There was something in her expression that seemed to imply a deeper understanding to Lacey, but Persephone didn’t say anything, and Lacey gratefully accepted the easy-out. “Thank you,” she replied, and hoped that even an eighth of her relief was evident to her friend.
For the entirety of the drive, Lacey’s foot was tapping nonstop, fingers anxiously running over the seams of her bright green pants. Persephone would regularly glance Lacey’s way, clearly growing in concern but remaining firm in her refusal to press Lacey for information. Finally, by some grace of God, they made it to the record store - it had felt like an eternity in traffic, and Lacey was anything but patient.
Persephone had hardly even put the car into park before Lacey’s door was slamming shut, purse swinging wildly at her side as she briskly crossed the parking lot and threw open the door. The inside of the store, as was typical, was dim - most of the lights were off, and the windows had thin coverings to maintain the atmosphere. Music played fairly quietly - Lacey recognized it as being by the Dead Boys, a band Jacqueline had recently been particularly enamored with - though to Lacey’s recollection, they only had the one album so far.
“Hey, Lacey,” Jacqueline’s coworker, Rhys, said from the counter - clearly not yet knowing that Jacqueline was, for some reason, upset with Lacey. “Jackie’s in the back grabbing some cassettes, but she’ll be back out soon.”
“Thanks,” Lacey answered, the wind somewhat taken out of her sails as she drifted through the closest aisle, drawing closer to the door to the storage room as she waited for Jacqueline to appear.
Well we all fall in love, but we disregard the danger
Though we share so many secrets, there are some we never tell
Fingers dancing over the newly released cassettes, Lacey kept her gaze firmly planted on the door, waiting for the moment Jacqueline appeared. Her fingers trembled, and she pressed them into the case of a copy of the Album by ABBA in an attempt to steady them. They trembled from her anxiety over the situation, the abruptness with which Jacqueline was ending things, and the nerve wracking unknown of the impending conversation; they trembled from her anger, the indignant hurt over not getting a say or any explanation for the situation. It wasn’t fair - and the unfairness burned in Lacey’s chest - not the way her love for Jacqueline did, like a bonfire - no, this unfairness burned like a forest fire, raging and desperate and devastating.
Jacqueline appeared in the doorway, pushing out a cart of boxes - clearly on her way to restock the store. Lacey’s throat tightened as she stepped forward. Jacqueline looked so pretty - so much like she did when Lacey came in with Keith three months ago - blond hair down, the fringe just kissing her eyebrows, perfectly kept black nails, leather - and Lacey was filled with such desperation at the sight - the joy Jacqueline had brought into her life - she couldn’t lose her.
“Jacqueline,” she said softly, contrary to the rage of emotions storming inside her. Jacqueline’s blue eyes were wide - whether she actually believed that Lacey would let their relationship end without so much as a conversation or she had tricked herself into thinking she believed it, clearly she had expected (or perhaps she had hoped) that Lacey would not show up.
Jacqueline schooled her features - her eyebrows came down, she no longer looked so shocked, and she straightened her back. “Lacey,” she answered, with a heartbreaking chill. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to talk to you,” Lacey said. She took half a step forward, and Jacqueline took half a step back - back pressed to the door to the storage room, cart protectively placed between the two girls.
“We don’t need to talk.”
“Yes, we do,” Lacey insisted, hands grabbing the other end of the cart. “Jacqueline, I deserve more than a phone call if you’re breaking up with me.” Lacey could hear Rhys stop whistling and, self conscious, leaned forward on the cart, voice dropping. “Please.”
"There's nothing to say," Jacqueline insisted, eyes shifting away, "except that we're done." Her eyes stayed on anything but Lacey ‐ she looked at the boxes on the cart between them, the shelf of vinyls to the left of Lacey, up at the ceiling - and Lacey watched her eyes roam with desperation.
"Please," Lacey whispered, voice strained and vision blurring from unshed tears, "at least tell me what I did wrong."
That plea seemed to hit its mark better than the others; Jacqueline gave a little start at the sentence, eyes immediately finding Lacey and expression softening. Something like regret seemed to wash over Jacqueline - and Lacey felt renewed hope that maybe she could get Jackie back.
"You did nothing wrong, love," Jackie said. "It's just -" Her gaze darted around the shop, searching for something. "Trust me. It's in your best interest."
"No." Lacey's voice was barely audible, her fingers turning white from how hard they clutched the cart. Only slightly louder, she repeated, firmer, “No, no, you don’t get to decide that for me.”
Jackie’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, but her expression remained neutral - the only hint of emotion in her lips and posture was determination. She drew in a deep breath. “I’m too broken for a good life. I won’t drag you down with me.”
Her hands went into a small compartment on the cart, and she removed something from it. Finally, her gaze met Lacey’s again. “Here. It was going to be part of your gift for our anniversary. I - hope you’re happy.”
Lacey was frozen in place, forcing Jackie to step around the cart. Her hands gently pried Lacey’s off the lip of the cart, turning them to be palm up, and she placed a cassette tape in them, closing the fingers around them.
A soft kiss was pressed to Lacey’s cheek, though her vision remained staunchly fixed on the little tape, unassuming and overwhelmingly painful, in her grasp.
Why were you so surprised that you never saw the stranger?
Did you ever let your lover see the stranger in yourself?
Lacey only really got a day and a half to mope in her apartment before Persephone came knocking on her door. She didn’t bother budging from her spot on the couch - why should she, when the only thing she wanted to do was listen to her sad music mixtape again and stare at the cassette she still hadn’t listened to and cry?
Persephone knocked again, and after a pause, the knocking became a pounding. “Lacey! Let me in!”
Still, Lacey did not move. She didn’t move, even when the lock on her door clicked (likely due to Persephone remembering the location of Lacey’s spare key), or when the door then swung open, or even when Persephone stepped in, took one look at Lacey, and said in the most pitying voice, “Oh, Lacey.”
To be fair, Lacey imagined she looked quite pitiful, curled up as she was under the warmth of Jackie’s soft dark jacket - a jacket Jackie had left at Lacey’s apartment and that Lacey was too weak to return. The coffee table was littered with dishes and takeout boxes. Her phone was off the hook, dangling between the table and the couch, nearly brushing the ground. Loudly, her cassette player ran through her sad music mix. The curtains were shut, casting the room in a dim light even though it was noon outside.
Lacey blinked at Persephone, her anodyne stare boring unseeingly through her. Impossibly, Persephone’s stance seemed to melt into even softer pity. She crossed the room, stopping in front of Lacey and kindly prying the jacket out of Lacey’s deathgrip. Persephone won in the end, and she set the jacket off to the side, placing her manicured hands on Lacey’s knees. Then, she ducked her head, forcing Lacey to make eye-contact.
“Babe,” she said gently, “this isn’t going to help you stop hurting. Break-ups suck, don’t make it worse on yourself by isolating yourself and making sure you feel bad physically, too.”
Lacey’s head jerked up at the acknowledgement of her relationship - more specifically, at the acknowledgement of an aspect of her relationship (of her self ) that she had never told Persephone about. “How- uh-”
Lacey couldn’t quite get the words out, but thankfully, Persephone was able to fill in the blanks herself. “We’ve been friends for years, Lacey, and that day I took you to the music store is the most freaked out I’ve seen you in ages. And…” she trailed off, looking slightly ashamed. “I don’t think you realized that I could hear most of your conversation. I tried to stay away and not listen, but I caught enough of it to get confirmation.”
“Oh…” Lacey replied, drawing her legs closer to her torso. Persephone’s sympathetic expression didn’t waver, though she did stand, grabbing Lacey’s arms and dragging her up as well.
“Lacey, I’m serious. This isn’t good for you. It’s New Year’s Eve, you shouldn’t be cooped up alone in your room. C’mon, I’ll help you get ready, and you can come to my place.”
And, well. Lacey didn’t particularly want to get up, but there she was, and she didn’t particularly want to be alone, either, so she may as well get ready and go with Persephone.
Don't be afraid to try again
Everyone goes south every now and then
Ultimately, the change in location didn’t make much of a difference. The buzzing silence of Lacey’s apartment was gradually replaced by the buzzing noise of Persephone’s. As the number of guests grew, the level of noise grew as well, though much more exponentially, and soon, Lacey was sitting on the couch, surrounded by standing bodies on all sides except the ones where people sat right against her. Some were familiar, ones she knew from previous parties at Persephone’s, but most were new, friends of friends or people Persephone started inviting after Lacey’s attendance to her parties began to drop.
Once, the loud, overlapping conversation was comfortable, the music grounding, the movement on all sides easy to adjust to. Once, Lacey belonged here.
Now, she wasn’t entirely sure that ever was true - but it certainly wasn’t true anymore. A few friendly faces flitted by, attempting to make conversation with her until something more exciting pulled them away. Philip and Andrew stopped by, each asserting that they were glad to see her again, that it’d been too long, and as much as Lacey felt out of place, their words resonated with her. When was the last time she came to one of these parties?
She’d attended less and less frequently after beginning to date Keith, and each time they stayed for a shorter amount of time. Even though it was where they first met, Persephone’s apartment was not a place Keith was eager to go. Lacey would eventually stop asking to go, and would make excuses to Persephone about being too busy. On the rare occasion that they did go - which had last been a few months before breaking up - it was mostly just so Keith could hound someone attending for something, and Lacey would be expected to stay at his side the whole time.
The person on the couch next to her got up, and the spot was soon taken by a different person. Lacey didn’t think much about it until the heavy weight of an arm was thrown over her shoulders. She turned, eyes already narrowing in annoyance, prepared to tell someone off in the name of personal space, when she instead found herself eye-to-eye with a leering face she hadn’t seen in almost three months - Keith.
You've done it, why can't someone else?
You should know by now, you've been there yourself
Oh fuck no , she thought. Then, what’s he even doing here? And finally, God fucking damn it.
Lacey’s entire body was tense, wound as tightly as a wind up toy ready to go. Maybe Keith was close enough to feel the way her muscles prepared themselves, or maybe he could see what she was planning by looking at her face, or maybe it was simply a testament to his lightning fast reflexes, but as soon as Lacey jumped up from the couch, making to bolt, his strong hand closed around her wrist.
His eyes flashed up at her dangerously. “Running hasn’t helped you yet, has it?” Keith warned her in a low voice. Futilely, Lacey attempted to tug her arm away, gaze desperately sweeping the room in search of Persephone. “Why don’t we sit back down and catch up? It’s been a while.”
To someone else, it may have sounded like a request, but Lacey could hear the threat beneath, lying like a snake under a bush. She sat back down stiffly, and he once again rested an arm around her shoulders - tighter than before, trapping her there beside him.
“How have you been?” he asked.
“Fine,” she answered tersely.
“How have you been sleeping at night?”
“Fine.”
“Fine, really?” Keith’s tone was slowly morphing into something more mocking than threatening, but it didn’t bring Lacey any relief. “Even though you’ve proven your worst fear true? After you’ve proven to yourself that you just use people? Keeping them hanging around until they don’t serve a purpose and then throwing them away?”
“That’s not true,” Lacey snapped, glaring down at her lap.
“I think it is, though,” Keith replied, a hand coming up to play with her hair. “I mean, you did it with me. Breaking up with me the moment something new came along? You didn’t even like me in the first place, did you? Which would beg the question… why did you date me at all, if not to use me? And you did the same thing with Persephone - you were happy to be friends with her as long as you could go to her parties and get attention from her guests, but the moment you had someone else to give you attention… the moment you had me giving you attention… all of a sudden you didn’t want to go anymore.”
“You and I both know that isn’t what happened.”
“Isn’t it?” Keith leaned closer, his breath, reeking of cigarettes, landing hot on the side of Lacey’s face. “Then why didn’t you come back at all during that little fling you had with the music store chick?”
And that, that reference to Jacqueline, combined with Keith’s lapse in grip, was enough for Lacey to shove herself off the couch and out of his grasp. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” she spat at him before turning into the crowd, slipping between people. Right before she could reach the door, a hand caught onto her elbow and she was forced to turn back around.
“Stop trying to run from me,” Keith growled.
“Leave me alone, you asshole!” Lacey yelled back. Once more, she tried to pull her arm away from him, and once more she failed. Her yell had garnered some attention, though - the people closest to them were quieting down, looking on at the scene with apprehensive curiosity.
Keith released her arm, glare never wavering. “Fine,” he bit out. Lacey turned to leave, a hand on the door knob, but his next words stopped her dead. “This is why it was so easy to convince her to leave, though, you know. Because you’re so damned unlovable.”
It felt like Lacey’s heart was frozen and cracking, but still, she left him unanswered, storming out the door and the apartment building as a whole.
You may never understand how the stranger is inspired
But he isn't always evil, and he is not always wrong
The streets were well populated as Lacey walked briskly down them. It was dark, it was cold, and it was crowded. Her breaths came up in small puffs, her hands stayed down as clenched fists in her pockets, and her legs carried her forward.
Unlovable, was she? Maybe to Keith - nothing she ever did was good enough for Keith. Every day, it was harder to justify why she got with him in the first place, or why she stayed with him so long - they had nothing in common, and she found it hard to believe he ever wanted her as something other than a doll he could control. She had reasons, misguided and shameful as they were, for her side of things. She certainly shouldn’t have dated him knowing she never did or would feel attracted to him, but then, he shouldn’t have dated her with the goal of molding her into something she wasn’t. Which was exactly what he was doing: every time he insisted she needed to get ready quickly, only to send her back inside if her clothes weren’t to his taste, every time he insisted her music was shit and she should leave her bad taste out of his car, every time he belittled her interests or hobbies or otherwise made her feel less than him.
It was never like that with Jackie. Jackie made it feel like she was easy to love, the way she so quickly and so readily made space for Lacey in her life. Jacqueline’s apartment had tapes of Lacey’s favorite albums, copies of her favorite books, even some of Lacey’s clothes. Jacqueline would always listen to Lacey talk about her interests, and would engage in the conversation with thoughtful questions.
This is why it was so easy to convince her to leave , Keith had said. And Jackie had said, It’s in your best interest. I’m too broken for a good life.
A lump formed in Lacey’s throat, nearly choking her. What had Keith said to her? What had he done to convince Jackie that she needed to break up with Lacey? She didn’t know all the details of Jacqueline’s history, but she knew that Jackie’s father had cut her off, and was involved in some shady business out of greed, and that her older brother was, too, out of necessity. She knew Jackie’s mother was out of the picture in some sense. But more important than Lacey’s knowledge was Keith’s. What did he know, and how did he use it against her?
Even more important than that, a height of importance that was becoming harder and harder to top, how could Lacey convince Jacqueline that he was wrong?
Though you drown in good intentions, you will never quench the fire
You'll give in to your desire when the stranger comes along
Lacey hadn’t even fully intended to walk to Jacqueline’s apartment. She didn’t even know if Jackie would be home, or what her New Year’s Eve plans were - and Lacey didn’t know what to say yet, how to make things better. Her mind was still a swirling mess of hypotheses and desperation.
And yet here Lacey was, standing in front of Jacqueline's door, hand still raised mid knock.
And there Jackie was, standing on the other side, holding the door open and staring in some state of mild confusion and pain.
"Sorry," Jackie said, "I thought you were the pizza guy."
"No," Lacey answered, lowering her fist. "I'm not." There was a painful silence between them, and then she added, "Can I come in?"
"Sure." Though Jacqueline agreed, it seemed to be mostly out of instinct rather than genuine agreement. Still, she stepped aside and allowed Lacey to venture in.
Despite the broken state of their relationship and the fear of what Keith had said to Jacqueline, Lacey couldn’t help but notice that she felt more comfortable as an ex in Jackie’s apartment than she did as a girlfriend in Keith’s - or, hell, a friend in Persephone, or herself in her own. Being here, in Jacqueline’s space, in whatever stage of their relationship, was the most open Lacey ever felt. And she wanted that - she wanted to continue being in Jacqueline’s home, her life, wanted to continue to feel open and free. That was the momentum she needed to start the conversation.
“What did he say to you?” Lacey asked abruptly. There wasn’t an immediate answer, and so Lacey clarified, “Keith. What did he say to you to convince you to break up with me?”
Jackie stood a few feet away, tugging at the sleeves of her dark sweater, eyes determinately fixed away from Lacey. "Why don't you sit down?"
Lacey hesitated, but complied, settling onto Jacqueline's couch. Jacqueline stood a few feet away ‐ a distance so short, and yet weeks ago wouldn't exist at all, a reminder that triggered a painful twist in Lacey's heart. As the silence stretched and it became clearer that Jacqueline was still hoping to procrastinate, Lacey once more spoke up.
"I spoke to Keith tonight. He said he…" Finally, Lacey hesitated. You're so damn unlovable . "He said he convinced you to break up with me. What did he say?"
How did he change your mind so fast? she wanted to say. How did you go from promising me you loved me to throwing me away?
Maybe some of that showed on her face; maybe Jacqueline could see she wasn't going to let this go; maybe she wanted closure too.
"Not much," Jacqueline confessed. And God, that was not what Lacey wanted to hear. The words landed like a punch to the chest, knocking the wind right out of her. "He just… reminded me what I was destined for. Nothing good. Nothing you deserve, just a hard life. He reminded me that you deserve a comfortable life."
“Why can’t I have that with you? Why don’t I deserve to make my own choices?” Lacey asked.
“You do,” Jackie said. “I just wanted to make the hard decision for you, make it easier for you to cut ties and walk away. I wanted to be the one hurt, not you.”
“Don’t you see how much more this hurt? We could’ve talked about it. If we had a conversation, if I had been allowed to be part of this decision, I could’ve knocked some sense into you. I could’ve told you what I wanted.”
“Is it too late to have that conversation?”
Lacey smiled. “I don’t think it is, no.”
When, hours later, it was time to ring in the new year, Lacey did so with joy in her heart and Jacqueline’s lips on her own.