Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Reputation

You’re so gorgeous

I can’t say anything to your face

Cause look at your face

And I’m so furious

At you cause you makin’ me feel this way

But what can I say ?

You’re gorgeous

tuesday may 7th 2024

“Fuck off” I shout at the guy.

The prick standing in my way out of his office seriously thinks he can get us to sign this piece of garbage he just pulled from his fancy-ass bag.

“Rep!” one of my bandmates calls me when I storm out, knocking the manager's shoulder.

No. No way we trust that asshole that just want to take advantage of us and that stupid fucking contract of his.

“Rep!” he calls out again. I don’t care and I don’t stop, my guitar on my back, almost running down the stairs, then out in fresh air.

I violently push the last door. The sun blinds me for a second, and the pollution gets to my nose, but I prefer this familiar polluted air than the clean alcohol-rubbed sent of the perfect record-company. I get a cigarette out of my pocket but in the New York crowded street, Paul can catch up with me.

“Come on, Rep, it might be our only chance of ever signing a real contract!”

He makes his way in the crowd against everyone as I casually light my cig up, making my way through the crowed.

“No! That’s a trap, can’t you see that? I rather keep recording music in Amos' basement than give him all the rights !”

“We can negotiate, we can…”

“Have you seen him? We’ve been negotiating for weeks! That’s all he’ll offer us.”

Paul hurriedly grabs my arm and makes me stop.

“We need the money, Rep. Just to get any other song out.”

“A song he will own! Come on we’re not that stupid.”

He sighs.

“They’re the only one who showed any sort of interest in us. I… We think that it’s our only chance.”

“Are you serious? He will own everything, we won’t be protected against resell, all our money will be under their watch. All we will have will be the lyrics, but even then we’ll have to wait years to use them again. They will decide when and where, and which songs we perform. That’s not a band life!”

“Let’s just give him one song! He offered one song, and we’ll see where we go from there.”

I look in his eyes, so bright and full with the hope of such a… success. Which I wouldn’t call one.

“We’ll talk about it next week. Let me read the contract again.”

“I’ll email it to you.”

I nod, then awkwardly wave him goodbye and finish my cig, making my way to the subway. I only agreed because he wouldn’t let me go otherwise and I really need to get home. Debut had her big exam today and I was planning on offering her a cake or something.

When I get in the station, my guitar getting in the way of everyone – as I guess form the very irritated sighs from around me when I turn – I have to let three train pass by before there’s enough place for me to get in. New York, as crowded as it gets. And, not surprisingly at all, it takes three stations for the train to suddenly stop in the middle of the tunnel. Everyone stumble, me first with the guitar at my back, and I suddenly feel warmth against my breasts. Until I realize it burns.

I look down as the burning coffee soaks my newly bought shirt.

“Fuck !” I exclaim as I try to wipe it off quickly, the hot liquid burning my skin.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” apologizes the girl in front of me, looking at my breast, horrified.

She searches for something in her bag and hands me a napkin to tap the shirt.

“Oh, I’m so… so sorry! I hope that wasn’t expensive.”

“No, just new” I snap. “Fuck, that was hot. It’s summer out there, who drinks that!”

I take the napkin from her hands and try to dry my stained shirt as the train starts again, almost making me fall back straight into her.

“I take iced usually but… Oh I’m so sorry.”

I finally look up at her, and all annoyance disappear from my body.

She might be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.

And I’ve seen girls. Her blue eyes are filled with honest worry as she watches my hands uselessly tapping my shirt. The tip of her blond hair is dyed in pink and it must be fresh because little dots of pink stain her white blouse, where the end of the hair brushes. And those lips… perfect, round, full beautiful lips that keep apologizing even though I can’t hear anything anymore.

“It’s okay” I breathe, my heart racing, to stop the flow of sorry she’s throwing my way. “I’ll wash it.”

The train’s about to stop at the next station.

“It’s my stop I… you sure you’ll be okay? I live near, I can help you clean it, it’s my fault, I…”

I smile, searching inside of me for the purest form of smile my lips can make because I definitely don’t want her to think I’m mad. “No really, it’s okay, don’t worry.”

“Again, sorry. It sucks.” She tentatively tries a smile, and I immediately caught on, laughing a bit too loudly.

“Sucks to pay 8 dollars for a coffee for it to end up on a stranger's tits, isn’t it?”

For a second I fear my joke is a bit too much, but her face lightens up as she laughs:

“Yeah, actually that was 11 dollars.” She frowns, a bit ashamed of herself.

“11 dollars? What do they put in it?” I exclaim.

“Too much sugar. And vanilla. And caramel. And whipped cream.”

The side of her mouth goes down, playfully ashamed, but then the train stops and the doors open.

“Again, very sorry. Good luck washing it! Bye.”

I can’t even say goodbye back before she is swallowed by the flow of people.

It’s four more stops before I finally get down and I can’t shake the memory of her pink dye, of the way her lips formed the word “bye”. But she’s just a subway crush, New York is a massive city and I’ll never see her again. I stop by the bakery to buy a small cake for Deb, then make my way to my apartment, people staring at my boobs and their stain.

When I reach the fourth floor, I unlock the door, only to find Deb’s slipper still in the shoe drawer. So, she’s probably still at school.

I put my music on, blasting from my brand-new speaker – a gift from the band. But it was also a gift for themselves, as they spend a lot of time here – probably even more than at their own house. I try to keep those moment when Deb isn’t here, though. I want her to feel at home and my band mates are not exactly… friendly material. They’re nice, Deb likes them, but I don’t like the influence they could have on her.

I take my shirt off and desperately try to clean it in the sink, but it’s of no use, and when Deb comes home, I’m still elbow-deep in soap.

“What happened to you?”

“Some girl spilled her coffee on me” I explain as she takes her shoes off to put the slippers on. The whole apartment smells like vanilla now. How strong was that thing? “How was that big exam you told me about?”

She sits at the counter, leaning on her hands.

“Oh fine, wasn’t nearly as difficult as I feared.”

“I got you a cake, to cheer you up if it had gone bad. It’s there.”

I wipe my forehead as she takes the bag to look in it.

“Oh, my favorite! Thanks, Rep!”

She happily bites into it but leaves half of it for me.

“That’s of no use!” I say, infuriated.

I can’t be mad at that pink-haired girl but I’m still bumped about the shirt. It was quite new! I give up and open the sink to let the water leave as I take my soapy shirt in front of me to inspect the damage.

“I can help you; I think mom let me some detergent for when I moved in.”

“That would be nice, yes.”

I rinse it, letting her get her bottle and come back to help me.

“I did talked to Drew, though” Deb sheepily says as she spray the tee-shirt with detergent.

“Really?” I ask, amused. She has been talking about that boy for almost a year now. “What did you said?”

“Well, it was more him that came to ask me about my answers on the test. We had a few study sessions before.”

“Oh, that's good !” I try to cheer her up, but her face stays miffed.

“Yeah, well he only has eyes for her, so... Homework hasn't got me very far. She is much more intersting anyway, with her dark hair and her group of stupid beautiful friends, and all the boys at her feet. I mean, boys like challenges, don't they? Maybe that's why he is so all over her. She is inaccessible and he likes that. But I’m here, am I not? Are all boys stupid, Rep? Please tell me not all of them are because I may never live my true love story if so."

A laugh escapes my lips as I scrub the shirt.

“Yes, Deb, I’m afraid all boys are stupid. That’s why I like girls.”

“No it’s not.”

“Well, I’m not disappointed to like girls when I see how some guys behave”

She sighs in exasperation.

“But I’m sure one day he will realize how much of and amazing person you are, Deb.” I add. “And he will fall in love with you, and you’ll have an amazing life, and beautiful children. And if not, then he is a douche, and you shouldn’t even think about him.”

She seems to wonder about it, with wiseness on her face, but then her features turn into the same expression she uses when she talks about whomever she has a crush on at the moment.

“But he is so cool!”

 I shake my head. Oh, teenage crushes are so cute.

“Invite him over, then!”

Surprise wash over her face, a bit taken aback.

“wh… Really?”

“Yeah, you know you can invite who you want here. You can have a study session here, and you could tell him.”

She thinks about it, frowning.

“Yeah, maybe. I’ll see. But there’s only like, three weeks left of school…”

“So it’s now or never. And if he rejects you, you’ll never have to see him again.”

She seems more convinced now. She brushes off the last bubble before stating :

I think you should let it soak here tonight. Maybe it’ll be okay tomorrow.”

“Let’s hope.”

I start cleaning around the sink all the soap that got there.

“Or you could add even more coffee, you know. Make it even.”

I laugh and rumple her hair.

“Stop being silly.” Say, looking at the time. I’m almost late. Shit. “Okay, I’m off. Be back around midnight.”

“Good shift, Rep.”

I grab my jacket and my keys, before sliding on my motorcycle boots.

“Don’t wait for me, Deb. I’m serious. You go to bed before 10:30!”

I scream my last order as I pass the door and aim for the stairs. Her mother trusted me enough to host her and make sure on school night she would be in bed by 10, so I think I can be considered a cool guardian, telling her off at 10:30.

I find my beloved motorcycle where I left it yesterday in the garage, at the bottom of the building. Living so far from the center was the price to pay for Bertha to have her own home. I climb on her back, put on my helmet and we are off to the restaurant that pays my bills.

Le Petit Gourmet is a French-specialized restaurant that serves frozen French food. But people are not supposed to know that.

I get there exactly on time. Not enough early, judging by the face my manager pulls, but I ignore it. You really want to ignore Celine. Anything is annoying to her. I greet the cook, with whom I’m friend, and put on the apron that comes with the job. And I spend a normal evening cleaning tables and serving food for ungrateful locals and enthusiastic tourists.

During a time-out I get my phone out, to tell Deb to go to bed because I’m certain she’s watching her stupid show on the television when she should go to sleep. I just send my message when I get a notification of a file from Paul at the top of the screen. The contract. I open it up, but it does not look better than earlier. Still a load of crap.

“Reputation. No phone on the job.”

It’s Celine nosy voice. I roll my eyes but put it back. Serving fancy food to rude customers is not a passion, but at least it pays enough. It pays more than the silly songs we hang on to with the band, anyway. Quitting would be the dream, but it isn’t an option. Yet. Not when the only contract we get offered looks like this one. So I power through and get to the end of this day. I can feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, probably Debut lying about the fact that she’s in bed. I don’t look immediately, cleaning a table as Celine checks out the last customer. At the end of my shift, after cleaning and closing everything I still ignore Celine and check my phone. Deb saying she was in bed. I laugh, already knowing I can check the time the TV went off – her mother insisted I did that. She lies, but I never tell her that I know she’s lying. What’s the advantage of living with your cool previous neighbor if you can’t watch a show late at night? She doesn’t exaggerate anyway.

I stuff my tips from the apron pocket into my bag. I’m supposed to give them back so that they can all be shared equally, but I don’t do that anymore. At least I don’t give everything. This place is a shark den. I’m sure Celine misappropriated money from the checkout. I go to say good-bye at the kitchen where they’re closing everything, then get to my bike, looking for my keys.

I search in my pocket, but all I can find is a piece of paper. I extract it from my pants and watch it with the streetlamp light. It smells of coffee.

It’s the piece of paper pink-haired girl gave me. I’m about to put it back in my pocket when my eyes catch a glimpse of handwritten words.

More precisely one word, and a series of numbers. Lover. +335 255 785

And on the corner there’s the logo of a flower shop that I know just too well because I pass in front of it every day, being just down the street from Le Petit Gourmet.

Chapter Text

Debut

I don’t know what I want

So don’t ask me

Cause I’m still traying to figure it out

Don’t know what’s down this road

I’m just walking

Trying to see through the rain coming down

tuesday may 7th 2024

I am just a wrecked bundle of nerves when I wake up. With the exam, the end of the year coming up, the love of my life only having eyes for her…

I know that, rationally, he probably is not the love of my life. Especially with the fact that he only speaks with me about homework. But all my thoughts seem to go back to him even when I have so much more to deal with. Like exams, and graduation and college applications. But no, my brain only seems to be able to think about Drew.

I get in the shower, then in my clothe and make myself a huge breakfast. I always think Rep exaggerate when she buys so much food, but I think she’s afraid of mom, and letting her down while taking care of me. But who am I to blame, my mother is so loving, it’s terrifying. She almost raised Rep, so I understand that she is terrified of failing her one mission: hosting me through high school.

But in three weeks she won’t have to worry about me anymore. School will be finished. But first, I remind myself, exams! Because the end of high school is something I just don’t want to think about. Especially what comes after.

I’m not going to complain about the overfilled fridge when I get to eat that much and that good. So I finish eating, and I’m about to leave when I hear Rep’s alarm going off in her room. The door is half open, and I glance a picture of her body spread and tangled in her sheets, still asleep. I heard her came home late last night. Probably practicing with her band.

“Rep!” I whisper. When she doesn’t answer, I insist “Rep! Get up, your alarm just went off.”

She jerks awake, confused until she sees me in the threshold. Then she goes for her phone.

“Shit. What time is it? You should be in school!”

“It’s okay” I laugh. “My exam in not until 10.”

“Your exam, right.” She says, but I’m sure she has no idea what I’m talking about. “You did revise, right?”

“Yes, don’t worry.” Well, I am worried, to be honest. It’s one of the biggest exams of the year. But I’ve spent many hours working on it so it should be okay. I hope. I see her getting up so I interrupt her. “You should get some sleep, you came home pretty late, yesterday!”

“Oh no, I’m sorry I woke you!”

“Don’t worry. I was up anyway.”

“Revising I hope,” she says as she sits in the side of her bed, passing a hand through her messy hair.

“Obviously.”

And dreaming about Drew. Obviously.

“Okay then. Break a leg, Deb.”

“Thanks! See ya!”

She waves me goodbye, yawning.

There’s a bus just down the street that gets me straight to high school. It’s why I moved in initially. In less than twenty minutes I’m in front of the gates, where it would take me an hour and half to get there from my parents’ house.

“Oh, Deb, good !”

My head jerks up, as Lessie sits next to me. I didn’t even see her get on the bus. She holds a bunch of paper in her hands – her revision sheets. We spent hours at her house making them with Speak Now.

“I’m stuck on that part. I just can’t remember the dates it’s infuriating. Quiz me, please.”

“Less’, you know them.”

“No, I’m serious, I don’t. And I really need to kick this exams ass for next year. They only take top students.”

I sigh. She get so carried away about stuff sometimes. Fearless is like… the best students of the class. She gets the best grade everywhere, and any med school will take her, even NYU Grossman, which is her dream. They already showed interest in her. Yeah, but they answer to many applicant but only take a very few, I’m not the only girl in the country wanting to go there.

At least she got it figured out, I think while quizzing her on the dates and events of the major history exam, so that I can get a few more info as well. She knows exactly who she is and what she wants to do later. I don’t even know what I want to do. I’ve applied to a few general college courses that might interest me but… I’m not even sure I want to go to college. To do what instead ? I have no idea.

When we get down Speak Now is just there, crying on the bus station bench.

“Oh no… She was supposed to hear about her college application today.” Lessie whispers my way before sitting next to her. “Speak Now ! What happened?”

“They called me boring!” she burst out crying, holding her phone.

Fearless, sitting right next to her, hold her and stroke her arm supportively.

“What? Who?” I empathically ask, sitting on her other side.

“My acting! They say I was boring, and not the profile they were looking for!”

“What!” exclaims Lessie much angrier.

She snaps the phone from her hands and reads what I believe is a mail. Her face softens.

“Oh, but it’s just the theatrical internship…”

“One I need to get into NYCDA” Speak cries even harder now. She also got her life figured out. New York Conservatory for Dramatic Arts. Her dream, to become an actress. She’s been on the drama group since third grades.

“Your acting is amazing.” I assure her. “You’ve done so much amateur’s short film! They’re fool not to see it.”

“And they didn’t say you weren’t cut out for it” Lessie tries to reassure her. “Neither that you’re boring. Just that you don’t meet the expectations wanted in term of…” she reads back. “Originality.”

“It’s as good as if they did! I’m old fashioned!”

She sniffs a bit dirtily, then wipes her nose.

“You still have other applications. Speak, one of those college is going to see your worth. You’ll become an actress; I swear. You don’t need a stupid internship that doesn’t see you for who you are.”

She stares at Lessie, nose running, wide eyed.

“So now we’re going inside and we’re kicking this exams ass. We’ll worry about the future later. Okay?”

She swallows hard, taking back the phone Lessie hands out for her, and nod.

“Okay.”

The three of us stand up and we mix with the flow of students coming in. Out the corner of my eyes I spot Drew.

My heart skips a bit and I look away shyly, already feeling my cheeks turning pink. I haven’t even talked to him!

“Your short-films are amazing, Speak.” Lessie adds.

I concentrate of this conversation, rather than Drew with Jessica.

“Oh, Deb, look who it is!”

“Louder, maybe!” I exclaim.

She chuckles, holding back a laugh.

“God, I hate that girl.” Says Speak Now, wiping away the last tear.

“Me too” I mumble under my breathe.

“You deserve more than a man who likes girl based on the size of their breast.”

Fearless reminds me of Rep, sometimes.

“You think he likes bigger breast?”

I self-consciously grab my own breast and stare. I don’t have big breast. I have… average breast. Not as big as Jessica. Fearless snaps my hand away.

“Stop that, it’s ridiculous. Your breasts are fine, and you deserve more than Drew.”

She says his name like it’s a molded piece of food in her mouth.

“But he’s so cool!” I defend myself.

“He is cool.” Says Speak.

“Oh, good lord, what have I deserve for brainless friends. He’s a dick.”

“Don’t say words like that!” exclaims Speak Now.

“You’re a prude” answers Lessie.

“You’re just vulgar”

Fearless pulls out a fake shocked face that makes us all laugh.

“Besides, you only think her crush is stupid because you are so pumped up about your neighbor.” Adds Speak.

We’re in the corridor of the school, crowded with lost boys, stressed girl and people running about trying to get to the other side of the building in time. The sound of locker being opened and closed, and the discussion of eager friends catching up their week end makes it hard to keep talking so we get closer, also trying to leave space for people walking the opposite direction.

“My neighbor is quite lovely, unlike Drew.”

“That’s not what your family thinks.” Speak now teases her.

“I do not care what my family thinks.”

“Besides he has a girlfriend.” She adds

“At least Drew is available.” I say. “Now, let’s stop this, we have an exam.”

We’ve just reached the door when Drew also arrives. Jessica must have left him somewhere on the walk here. My face heat up, because I hope he didn’t hear me just  talk about him.

“Hi Debut!” he says, passing in front of us, straight into the class.

“H..H..Hi!” I say, way too late when I finally regain function of my tongue. But he’s definitely too far and doesn’t even look back.

Lessie clicks her tongue.

“Well, that was epic.”

“Oh, shut up.”

I don’t even look at them as I get into the class for the exam.

°°°

It’s not that hard. I finish a bit early, actually. This gives me plenty of time to watch Drew watching Jessica as she discreetly flirts with Kyle, the football prodigy. Why does he even like her? She doesn’t give a toss about him. She doesn’t even answer him half the time he tries to speak with her. Not that I watched or explicitly noticed. I’m not that crazy.

When the bell ring I’m the first to get up and hand out my exam sheets. Then I wait for Speak and Lessie in the corridor. I’m checking my phone when someone calls me.

“Oh, Debut! My savior!”

I look up suddenly, feeling myself blushing hard.

“Drew!”

“You can’t imagine how your help saved me in here! Thank you for helping me on those revision.”

I giggle, unable to stop my own reaction.

“Oh it’s nothing, don’t worry. Anytime.”

“I just had a doubt, on question three.”

He then proceeds to ask me about every question, and I oblige because I am a nice person friendly helping someone in need. Even if I was not as prepared as Lessie, he did came to ask me.

“Thank you so much Debut. I owe you one. I have to go, Jessica says she’ll meet me for lunch. See ya!”

I sigh, watching him leave towards the cafeteria. And in his wake, he reveals my two friends watching me.

“Oh, go on and gloat about how pathetic I was, please.” I say with a put out smile.

“No!” laughs Lessie. “You were actually good, here. Passable.”

“Anyway,” I figure it’s better to change the subject. “How did it go for you two?”

“Great. I really was worried for nothing.”

I grab Lessie’s arm. “I told you so! You’re not the best student for nothing! How did you do?”

“Fine!” Speak says much more cheerfully than when she entered the room. “I didn’t answer near the end but it went ok.”

“Great. Let’s go to lunch, I’m starving.”

I’m half-hoping to see Drew, as it is the only thing lately to make my heart jump and my blood rushing and simply for my life to have any sense. Especially when I see a text from my mother.

Hi sweety. We just wanted to know how the applications are going. Have you found something you like? Have you talked to the career adviser? Looking forward to seeing you next weekend. Love. Mom and dad.

I ignore it. This texts only bring more anxiety in me because no, I haven’t talked to the career adviser or find my true path.

I spend the meal watching Drew from afar, half listening to Lessie still trying to cheer Speak Now up. We have class after, and besides from a nice smile from Drew when he catches my eyes there’s no further interaction. At the end of the day he leaves with his friends, following Jessica and I get to the bus with Lessie. Speak Now parents come to get her. I watch longingly Drew’s truck park out of the high school parking and get to the main road way too fast. Maybe I’ll be cooler if I had a car. Or if my breast were bigger. Maybe I should ask Rep. She always seems so full of wisdom.

“See you tomorrow, Deb?”

It’s Fearless, about to leave at her stop.

“Yeah! See ya!”

She politely smiles at me and get off, leaving me to my daydreaming.

When I get to the apartment, I can see that Rep is already here because of how loud she blasts her music, making it reverberate all around the staircase. The door is unlocked and I’m hit with the smell of vanilla. Very unlike Rep. When I spot her in the kitchen, she’s cleaning something in the sink and seems pissed off.

“What happened to you?”

I put on my indoor slippers, much more comfortable.

“Some girl spilled her coffee on me” She explains “How was that big exam you told me about?”

I make myself comfortable infront of her on the counter, head in my hands.

“Oh fine, wasn’t nearly as difficult as I feared.” I casually say.

“I got you a cake, to cheer you up if it had gone bad. It’s there.”

She wipes her forehead, then shows me a plastic bag on the counter I initially thought was one of her take out. She always takes take-out even though the fridge is always full. I take the bag and watch inside. It’s a vanilla éclair, a pastry she made me discover. She works in a French restaurant and they have all those delicious desserts – she says they’re frozen, so she won’t bring any back from the restaurant, but she does buy some from bakery.

“Oh, my favorite! Thanks, Rep!”

I cut it in half, hurridly eating into it because I’m kind of starving and a snack is perfect right now. I let her the other half.

“That’s of no use!” she yells, frustrated.

She gets the stained shirt in front of her. I can see in transparence the brown spilled coffee.

“I can help you; I think mom let me some detergent for when I moved in.”

“That would be nice, yes.” She seems relieved.

I get to my room to get the bottle, and then give it to her, helping to spray and scrub.

“I did talked to Drew, though” I say innocently.

“Really?” She answers, all annoyance gone from her face. “What did you said?”

“Well, it was more him that came to ask me about my answers on the test. We had a few study sessions before.”

The library became my favorite place for a few weeks when he needed help.

“Oh, that's good !” she says, trying to cheer me up.

“Yeah, well he only has eyes for her, so...” I explain, raising my eyebrow, not looking in her eyes.  "Homework hasn't got me very far. She is much more interesting anyway, with her dark hair and her group of stupid beautiful friends, and all the boys at her feet. I mean, boys like challenges, don't they? Maybe that's why he is so all over her. She is inaccessible and he likes that. But I’m here, am I not? Are all boys stupid, Rep? Please tell me not all of them are because I may never live my true love story if so."

She wholeheartedly laughs at me.

“Yes, Deb, I’m afraid all boys are stupid. That’s why I like girls.”

“No it’s not.” I answer, because I would also be gay if that was the case.

“Well, I’m not disappointed to like girls when I see how some guys behave”

I sighs in exasperation. All this is a lost cause, I’m afraid.

“But I’m sure one day he will realize how much of and amazing person you are, Deb” she adds. “And he will fall in love with you, and you’ll have an amazing life, and beautiful children. And if not, then he is a douche, and you shouldn’t even think about him.”

Maybe she is right. I should forget him because he clearly only is interested in my knowledge.

“But he is so cool!” I exclaim.

I see her shaking her head.

“Invite him over, then!”

I frown. Drew? Here?

“wh… Really?”

“Yeah, you know you can invite who you want here. You can have a study session here, and you could tell him how you feel.”

That doesn’t sound all that stupid.

“Yeah, maybe. I’ll see. But there’s only like, three weeks left of school…”

“So it’s now or never. And if he rejects you, you’ll never have to see him again.”

Yeah, that definitely isn’t stupid. Rep always has the answers. I look down at her shirt.

“I think you should let it soak here tonight. Maybe it’ll be okay tomorrow.”

“Let’s hope.” She sighs.

“Or you could add even more coffee, you know. Make it even.” I suggest.

After washing the last of the soap around the sink she rumples my hair, laughing.

“Stop being silly.”  She checks the time when panic hit her features. “Okay, I’m off. Be back around midnight.”

“Good shift, Rep.” I offer.

She gets ready, with all her motorcycle accessories. Rep is so cool. Maybe it’s a motorcycle I should get, not a car.

“Don’t wait for me, Deb.” I roll my eyes but she adds. “I’m serious. You go to bed before 10:30!”

I can’t even answer that the door slaps close.

Alone in the apartment, I lie in the sofa, still dreaming about a certain boy. I could do that. Invite him over for studying our next exam and tell him how I feel. And with prom coming up… But he’ll probably invite Jessica, even though half the school is going to ask Jess. If he ask me for help, I suggest we do it here.

I get in my room to play some guitar. Rep has been teaching me the past few months, a few chords here and there. I think it’s fun. I tried to write some songs, but Rep is the artist. My tries are laborious and I’m too ashamed of them to show anybody, especially Rep. But It’s fun, so I keep going.

Later I make myself a bit of a meal and turn the TV on, to watch my favorite show for the hundredth time. I even manage to stop thinking about Drew for a bit. Or my parents, that have send me another text since lunch. I answered them that I do my best, and that was it. When I get another text around 10:30 I’m ready to be mad at mom for being so overprotective but it’s Rep. Stop watching your show and go to bed. I smile. How does she do that? Am not. Good night. I lie. But then I do go to bed, with the perspective that tomorrow I’ll see Drew. Maybe even talk to him – about something else than homework, or Jessica.

Chapter Text

Folklore

They said there goes the last great American dynasty

Who knows if she never showed up what could have been

There goes the most shameless woman this town has ever seen

She had a marvelous time ruining everything

Tuesday may 7th 2024

“Lover, can you pass me that card, please?”

My friend hands me the card I’m pointing to without looking, absorbed in her floral composition. I finish rearranging the flowers in the papers, then putting the lovely note the client wrote himself, before wrapping it all up.

“Here you go. She’s a very lucky girl, sir. Excellent choice.”

“Oh my god, it’s gorgeous!” exclaims Lover without holding back, finally lifting her eyes from her plants and seeing the bouquet I’m handing the client. He blushes slightly, taking the flowers, before handing a bill.

“Thank you. It’s all her favorites.”

“I understand why. Have a good day sir!” I throw his way as he walks out of the shop.

Lover by my side sighs when the doors slam shut, leaving the shop empty.

“Joe never gets me things like that.”

“He doesn’t deserve you. But I, on the contrary…”

I take the bouquet I left behind the counter and hand it to her. Her eyes widen when she sees it, before taking it to look at it.

“Oh, Lorie you shouldn’t have. You’re being silly.” She reprimands me, but still lovingly inspects the flowers.

“It’s okay, Kristen won’t know. There was a surplus of those in the delivery this morning, so I thought of you.”

It’s her favorites.

“You are too cute, Lorie. I should probably let them here tonight”

She carefully places them in a vase to rest, then turns around the counter to water the flowers around the shop. I got that job a few years ago, and slightly after Lover got hired as well. We’ve been best friends ever since. A dream come true.

“You should get ready to leave, your shift is almost over.” I tell Lover while she waters the flowers in the storefront.

“Oh, no it’s okay. Actually, I have a meeting with a potential big client. For a party for his daughter, I think. He should be any minute. He came by earlier, I’ll leave after.”

“I can deal with it.” I assure her.

“No, really, Lore, don’t worry. Oh, look it’s him.”

As she says this a man quickly approaches the shop and end up opening the door. The little bell rings, announcing him. He stands tall in the small shop, the path hindered by plants almost soaking in his drink.

“Hello, sir!” Lover salutes him. “Welcome.”

“Hello again, I was there this morning…”

“Right! I remember. Please come.”

She rounds the counter again, taking a notepad and a pen.

“You told me it was for a big party?”

“Yes, my daughter's birthday. I wanted to make something big…”

He starts explaining what kind of arrangement he was thinking about, and what flowers and colors his daughter likes, so I take my chance to end Lover’s work on watering the flowers. I check for bugs, or little holes in the leaf, hearing them behind me laughing. Actually, Lover giggles.

I turn around, to see her drowned in his eyes. I shake my head. She is so lovesick with everything it’s too cute. But she really is lovesick of Joe, who, sadly, isn’t. At least it’s not the impression he gives when I meet him.

I get back behind the counter to check and organize the latest tickets, barely listening to them.

I get back behind the counter to check and organize the latest tickets, barely listening to them.

“Okay, look, I’ll let you this number so you can call me when you know when we could come by. And you can keep it if you are satisfied with our services and want to reach out again !”

“I am deeply satisfied already.” Is his only answer. I look at her, smiling at him like he is the most beautiful man she’s ever seen. “But” he adds, reaching into his pocket, “I think I have the business card of the shop.”

He shows her the little white card I designed a few years ago.

“Perfect!” She exclaims holding up the piece of paper she wrote her number on. “I’ll be waiting for your call, then.”

She smiles at him, staring as he waves, leaving through the door, making the bell ring again. She’s still watching the window when he disappear.

When she turns back, she realizes I’m watching her.

“What?” she asks.

“I thought you liked Joe.” I playfully say.

“I do!” She starts cleaning her things for the end of her shift. I’m closing today, because she has her appointment.

“You flirted with him!” I exclaim, smiling wide.

“No I didn’t! I was just being polite.”

“He offered you a coffee! Has Joe ever done that?”

“Yes, actually” she replies, getting her bag.

“Is this mysterious man single?”

She hesitates to respond, biting her lip.

“He divorced his ex-wife two years ago. He never sees his daughter, that’s why he wants to please her with flowers.”

I laugh at the amount of information she got from one conversation.

“He just explained me so that I understood better his assignment!”

“He’s handsome. You should go for him.”

“I’m with Joe.”

“Does Joe know that?”

“Oh please, Lorie, stop that.”

I know she only gets annoyed when we bring up her situationship. And I don’t want my friend to be upset, not when she has her appointments after.

She looks around, searching for something.

“On the counter,” I tell her. She turns around and finds her keys, before smacking her head with her hand in frustration.

“Thank you. I’m impossible! All right, I’m going to be late. Bye!”

“I’m hoping for good news!” I tell her, before kissing her.

“Good luck with your mother tonight.”

“It’s okay, Eve will be there.”

Seeing my mother is almost as exhausting as her appointments. Almost because nothing compares to her… condition. Not even my mother.

She leaves, pink hair jumping on her back as she crosses the street towards the subway.

Once I’m alone the shop doesn’t crowd quite more. Only a few customers come in and buy some flowers as a gift for their mother, and one for a burial. Kristen, our boss is in vacation, so I close alone, clean the shop, get my bag and my suitcase, and head for the train station. I made a small bouquet for mom because she likes it when I get her flowers. Lover will open tomorrow for me, and I think Kristen has a replacement for the next few days as I am to stay with my mother. The ride to Rhode Island is almost 4 hours that I use to finish my novel and start the next one on my to-be-read list, and my excessive mother sent a taxi to get me from the train station to her house. Eve’s already been there for two days but I couldn’t get off work.

The driver gets me past the gates and right in front of the doors of my mother's massive Holiday House. It’s not even her holidays house. It's her regular house. I shake my head when the driver gets my bag and climbs the few steps to the front door. I hadn’t realized it was a private chauffeur.

I insist on getting my bags on my own in my usual room but the chauffeur refuses and leaves me in the majestic hallway. Then I see Gracie, her housekeeper, cleaning dust of the decoration of the hall.

“Oh, dear, hello! Did you have a good trip?” she exclaims when she sees me.

“Yes, thank you, Gracie. Is Evermore already here?”

“Yes, I think she was in the garden just now. Your mother will meet you soon.”

“Thank you.”

I leave her to get to the main living room, with the massive fireplace and the way-to-high ceiling.

“Folklore!” I hear the second I sit in one of the green sofas.

My mother, dressed in her leopard suit, burst into the living room like the tornado she is, coming straight to me. “Oh, Folklore, I am so happy you could come. This is going to be wonderful! How was the trip?”

I stand up to let her cheerfully grab my cheeks to kiss them deeply.

“Very fine.” I say, holding her hands. “Did you hire a private driver?”

“Yes, it’s Ronald.”

I shake my head. This woman has no sense of economy. Ever since father died, she’s been liquidating the money he left us all.

“Oh, Evermore, your sister is here!” she shouts behind her. “So,” she adds, getting back to me. “How’s your little flower shop?”

She makes me sit with her on the sofa, waiting for Eve to come. I give her the bouquet I was holding all this time.

“Here, I made that for you. It’s fine, actually, lot of work and...”

“Oh, it’s beautiful.”

She takes the flower and calls for Gracie to get her a vase with water.

“Hello Folklore.”

I look up to see Eve on the threshold, in her brown coat, hair braided back.

“Oh, Eve!”

I stand up to run in her arms. She only left a few days ago but I miss her too much anytime she’s not with me. She hugs me back tighter, and then let go.

“Well, I think dinner is ready. Do you want to change before?” she asks me.

“No, it’s okay, I’m starving.”

The three of us make our way to the dining room.

“How’s Lover?” Asks Eve, following mom from a distance.

I know what she’s asking, because I tell Eve everything and they’re quite friends as well with Lover.

“She got an appointment earlier, but I hadn’t had any news. She was getting better last time.”

“That’s good.”

“Yes, it is.”

I prefer not to think about Lover too much. Because my life is quite perfect for the first time in a long, long time. I have my dream job, I leave with Eve, I’m only bothered by my mother once a year, I’ve been sober for 4 years and I have an amazing best friend with whom I work… So knowing I could lose her… It just makes the pull of the drink too powerful.

Once again, our mother went above and beyond for the diner. It’s all our favorite’s dishes in astronomic quantity. I know she got staff in the house, and I hope they’ll eat the rest because there’s no way we finish it all. Then I spot at the same moment as Eve the wine bottle.

“Mom!” She blames firmly.

“What?” our mother reply cluelessly.

When she sees what Eve is pointing at, she gets more upset than Eve.

“What, just because she can’t drink means I shouldn’t? This is my house.”

“You’re her mother, you should help…”

“It’s okay, I’m not going to jump on it.” I try to joke. It doesn’t seem to lighten up the atmosphere. “You can drink if you want to.”

Eve shakes her head and deliberately ignore the bottles in front of her. Mom doesn’t and serves herself. Eve is very protective of me on this. We never have a bottle of alcohol at the house, and she guards me like a dog at any social events to avoid the embarrassing moment when someone offers alcohol and I have to explain that I’m a recovering alcoholic. But it feels nice to be treated normally sometimes, and not having someone making sure I never see a drop of alcohol ever again.

“So, mother. Why did you summon us like that.” I ask helping myself with a portion of everything.

She sent me a text saying she urgently needed to see us at her house about a week ago.

“Well, it’s not really about me, actually.”

She turns her head to Eve, eyes in her plate. When she realizes we’re speaking about her she looks at us.

“What?”

“Well, how did it go? When’s the wedding?” mom asks.

“A wedding? What are you talking about?” I exclaim.

Eve had got a boyfriend for almost 3 years now. I’ve waited for their marriage my whole life. To be a bridesmaid and…

“I don’t…” she starts, hesitantly.

“Oh come on, young lady.” My mother gets impatient. “I had a man coming here to ask me for your hand like it was the 50s. He told me he would ask you last week. How did it go? When do I get to walk my daughter down the aisle? I can’t’ believe I haven’t received a text about it.”

She seems even more excited than me.

“You’re getting married, Eve, this is amazing! Why didn’t you tell me?”

I’m about to get up to kiss her when she slams her fist on the table.

“I’m not!” she shouts.

I froze in my place, half seated.

“I turned him down.” She adds more calmly.

We both watch her as she looks at her plate, shamefully.

“Wh… what? But why?” suddenly ask mom, confused.

“I… I just… I didn’t want to. Marry him.”

“Why didn’t you told me?” she asks in a low voice, almost hurt.

“Because this is my business.” Eve shakes her head slowly. “You seriously made us come all the way here to trap me into admitting a wedding? I can’t believe you, mother.”

Eve she spit the last word, her voice filled with anger, then gets up and leaves the room, slamming the door behind her.

Mom chuckles and bring her glass of champagne to her lips.

“She can’t be serious! She’s always to emotional, your sister. Next thing she’s going to blame me for her failure.”

I shake my head in desperation.

“Maybe not on this, but you do ruin everything all the time, mom. If she didn’t talk to us about it, it’s because she wasn’t ready. You should stop pushing people in the direction you want them to take.”

She takes a deep breath, and finally says.

“Then I guess I should cancel the engagement party I planned for her.”

°°°

I gently knock on Eve’s door later that evening. There’s no reasoning mom, and the half-hour of diner trying to make her understand that maybe for once she wasn’t right turned out useless.

“Come in.” she says so quietly I almost didn’t hear it.

“It’s me,” I say before coming in.

She’s lying down on her bed, watching the sea beyond her windows rushing against the shore.

“I didn’t know he wanted to marry you.” I say, lying down next to her. She keeps her back to me.

“Me neither.”

I search for the right thing to say, because she’s my sister and she’s upset. And I learn a long time ago that questions were the best way to solve a conflict.

“Are you still together?”

She sniffs, choking on a discreet cry before answering, “No. He says I humiliated him. He asked me in front of his entire family.”

“Why did you say no?”

She goes to say something, I see her back lifting with the intent of speaking, but she exhales, silent.

“Mom’s sorry she’s too much.” I lie when she doesn’t say anything.

“She hasn’t said that to you.” She affirms.

“No, she hasn’t,” I laugh. Then after a few second of silence with only the sound of the distant see I say, “If he was the one he would have waited for you to be ready.”

“I know.” She sighs. She turns around to face me. “Sorry I left.”

“It’s okay, you’re just here, Eve!”

Something even more sad flashes in her eyes, but before I can really analyze it she closes them and take me in her arms. She’s always been here for me and I know she always will. The least I can do is be here for her when she’s feeling down as well. Because we’re sister and we’ll never leave each other sides.

Chapter Text

I can’t decide if it’s a choice

Getting swept away

I hear the sound of my own voice

Asking you to stay

All we are is skin and bone

Trained to get along

Forever going with the flow

But you’re friction

Tuesday May 7th

“I should really get to work.” I say laughing as Jake tries to hostage me to stay in the sofa.

We’ve been lying there, me on top of him for a solid ten minute now.

“No, come on, you have a minute.” He kisses my neck, holding me tight against him, trying to capture my legs with his own.

“Please! The boss will be so mad if I’m late… again.”

He suddenly stops, grabbing his phone on the coffee table.

“You don’t start until 3. And it’s just down the street.” He puts the phone back, and turn me over, to get on top of me. “It’ll take you five minutes to get there and it’s 2:37.” He kisses my neck again, trying to catch my hands which are pushing him away.

“I need to get ready.” I try to keep a serious face, but a smile tugs at my lips.

“You’re already ready, Love. You’re beautiful the way you are.”

“I meant my shoes.”

“Okay, then let’s say you have to get off this sofa at 2:50 to be there on time. Which leaves me with 13 minutes to do whatever I want with you…”

He groans down my neck, his beard prickling my skin, then makes his way up to my lips. I answer to his kiss, moving with him, because I don’t have much self-control to be honest. But in a flash of clarity, I regain function of my thinking.

“Jake… Jake, Jake, Jake.”

I grab his face so that he looks at me.

“I’m serious. I’ll be back tonight.” I pat him on the shoulder as a sign that he should move, but he doesn’t, smirking.

I try to wriggle free of his grip, but he has me pinned down. His lips turn into this devilish smile he knows I never resist.

“I was too. I have 13 minutes.”

Turns out, I’m late.

“So, you stay here tonight?” He asks as I tie my shoelaces as fast as I can, looking around for my purse. He’s lay down on the sofa, his shirt half open, one hand behind his head, looking gorgeous.

“Yeah, I told my parents I would stay over at yours, if that’s okay.”

“Of course, love.”

I jump to my feet, taking my purse from the coat rack. He’s looking outside his big Yorkville’s apartment’s windows.

“We should go on a trip, this weekend. What do you think?”

I was about to leave, when I turn around.

“Jake, there’s my party, this weekend. You know, the one for you to meet all my friends…”

“Oh… right. I forgot.”

“You’ll be here, right?”

“Of course!” He says, standing up. “I can’t wait to meet all your friends.”

He gets over to me and grabs me to kiss me.

“Okay, now I really have to go. See you later!”

I leave and he closes the door behind me, as I run down the stairs. But in the hot May sun I walk to the coffee shop because if there’s something Kameron hates more than lateness, it is stink.

“You’re late, Red.” He says in way of greetings.

“Good afternoon to you too.” I answer as I aim for the back door, to put my things away.

He finishes to clean some mug when I come back with the apron around my waist. I hear him sniff the air I just pass, groaning.

“Summer is too early, this year.” He remarks. “You stink already.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” I say, putting my hair in a ponytail.

“No actually…” He tries to smell me even more, getting very close to my personal space. “You stink of sexual stamina, it’s disgusting! Is this why you were late? It’s unacceptable.”

I feel my cheeks burning at his words.

“You’re just jealous.” I say trying to hide my embarrassment.

He sighs, sitting on the only stool behind the counter, letting me clean the rest of the mugs. There aren’t many customers yet, all already served at their table.

“Oh, you have no idea how right you are, Reddy. It’s been month since I’ve hold…”

“Okay, thank you.” I cut him off before he embarrasses me even more.

A client enters the front door.

“Take his order, I’m off to the bathroom, I need to…”

“No details, please.” I smile politely without looking at him, welcoming the client as I cut him off. He has this fun habit of oversharing very… uninteresting details of his life.

“You really are a prude, you know that.” He whispers as the client approaches.

“No, I just know how to behave in society, Kam. Not everyone needs to hear about your poop.”

“Now I’m offended.”

He leaves just as the client get to the counter, where I take his order and proceed to make it. Kam has owned this café since he renovated an old insurance agency, a few years ago. He has had some coworker over the years, but since he hired me two years ago we’ve become close friends and my contract just kept being renewed. It was a perfect student job for me, because it pays… well not exactly well, but enough. I never left once I ended college. And now it’s right down the street from my boyfriends and we have a lot of fun on shifts with Kam.

“Shit!” I exclaim when the icemaker almost blew in my face.

“Oh, yeah, the ice machine broke this morning,” Kam yells from the back bathroom.

I sigh, shaking my head, wet with the uniced water it just threw at me.

“I’m sorry sir, it seems I can’t make it iced.”

“Oh, it’s okay. Make it normal.”

I finish making him his coffee and bank him.

“So, about your little partee this weekend…” Kam says as he sits back on the stool, grinning.

“Yeah, it’s sorted out. It won’t be a big thing though. Just wine, and friends, and Jake!”

“I can’t wait to meet the guy who’s been making late for work for the past few weeks.”

“I can’t wait for him to meet you all.”

“All?” he asks suddenly, almost offended. “I’m not your only friend?”

I hit his leg.

“Shut up.”

“I’m definitively bringing booze.”

“No, Kam! I said no strong alcohol. Just wine, it’s not a party party.”

“Boring!” he exclaims, making a few head shotting up to look at us. “Do you have any hot friend coming? Except me.”

“You’ll see.” I say, trying to sound cryptic, but it feels more insecure when it gets out of my mouth. “And this party is not for you to bang someone. It’s for you to meet Jake.”

He sighs, and I’m surprised it doesn’t call this party boring again. Probably biting his tongue off to keep himself from doing so.

“Oh!” he exclaims. “Haven’t you heard? You know the bearded customer… The one with the little bird tattooed on his neck. He was working at the phone company down the street. Guess what? He got fi-red.” Kam gossips, overly excited. Gossiping might be his favorite activity ever. “For what, you may ask? Drug use.” He adds, only mouthing the word so no one can hear it. Then he proceeds to make his jaw drop to the floor in fake astonishment. “Can you believe that?”

I laugh.

“No, I can’t really. He seems so… clean.”

“Right? Crazy world we live in.”

“How did you know about it?”

“Mrs. Chatterson.”

Another regular, that always takes green tea and a fruity pastry, as she calls them (they’re just fruit pie) who keeps talking about her cats.

“Actually, she’s a neighbor of a friend of this man, and…”

As per usual, the remaining of Kam’s shift finishes in serving the customers who come to us, and gossiping his voice out about everything he hears in this little café of his. I like it when he talks. It makes me feel like I talk less because I’m afraid I’m boring my friends with my stories about Jake, lately. I never felt anything like our relationship, and I need to exteriorize, but I’m afraid I do it too much. But once they’ll meet him, they’ll understand, I’m sure.

The ice machine really becomes a problem at some points, because in this weaver everyone’s taking iced, and I have to turn down every iced demand. Half leave without anything, and the other take it hot, through spite because addicted to cafeine, like the girl I’ve already seen a few times here, who dyed the tip of her hair pink since last time.

Eventually Kam leaves because his shift is over, and it’s been a long time since he trusts me to close. The afternoon becomes rapidly the early evening, and the closing hour comes around faster than I was expecting.

The nights start to paint the sky when I make my way back to Jake’s apartment.

He’s making dinner when I open the door, the delicious smell of my favorite dish perfuming the whole staircase before I even get to the door.

“You’re home!” He exclaims, hands on the pan, tasting what he just made.

“Teryaki chicken? You’re spoiling me.”

I join him in the kitchen, looking at the meat frying in the pan. I take the spoon he left there to taste the sauce.

“Don’t taste now! There won’t be any left!” he laughs, trying to take the spoon from me. But I manage to put it in my mouth, grinning, and in face of his failed attempted he hugs me from behind, kissing my neck.

“How was your shift?”

“Nice, actually. Kam had a lot of drama to go over. The ice making machine was broken though.”

“Hum.” He groans in agreement, balancing right and left, still kissing me, barely listening to me.

I turn around to face him. His beautiful eyes drown in mine, the wooden spoon between us. His hands are still on my waist, gripping me. I take his face and kiss him deeply.

How did I find him?

I’ve had boyfriends in high school, and one during college. But this… I never felt something so… strong.

“I’m going to take a shower.” I say.

“Not without me!” he exclaims, grabbing my hand when I try to move to the bathroom.

I laugh, thrown back in his arms again.

“Come on, we’ll never eat if you come with me. You can finish the dinner while I’m in the bathroom.”

“Now I don’t want to finish the dinner. I’m too distracted.”

I roll my eyes.

“Grow up, Jake.”

“Funny, coming from you.”

He might be a bit older than me, which makes the situation quite ironic. But he lets me go and I get to the bathroom, leaving the door open.

“Have you talked to your sister?” I shout as I undress from my work clothes.

“My sister? Why?”

“Because I forgot my scarf there, at her house, in March. You told me you would call her ages ago.”

“Yeah, sorry. Forgot. I’ll call her tomorrow.”

I get in the bathtub and start the shower head. He won’t, I know him.

“How was your day?” I ask, rinsing the dirt away.

“Fine.”

With the water running I can’t hear well, so I don’t push for him to open more. He just gets upset if I push.

When I go back out, in clean inside clothes, drying my hair with a towel, he has set the table with both our plates full of food.

“You look stunning.” He says as I sit in front of him.

I chuckle. My hair is a mess and I no longer have make up on.

“No, I don’t.”

“You always do.” He bores his innocent smile I love so much.

I look down at my food, embarrassed and blushing. I can feel his gaze upon me lasting a few seconds, before we start eating.

We talk, and we laugh, and we eat. Then we do the dishes together, playfighting with the soap. Then we watch a sit com, making fun of the characters, grinning and laughing until our cheeks hurt.

In the bed, with the streetlight lightening up the bedroom, we lie down face to face, without speaking. His hand is stroking my hair and we’re just two souls trying to decrypt the other.

“I can’t wait for Saturday.” I whisper.

He smiles.

“I really want my friends to meet you.” I add.

“I can’t wait to meet them.” He says, still stroking my head.

“Thank you, for letting me do that here.”

“Of course, love.”

He tucks a strand of damp hair behind my ear.

I’m so lucky, I realize when we’re lying down on his bed. I’m so damn lucky, that such an amazing men would even be interested in me. When I told my friends I was dating a man 9 year older than me, they were concerned at first. But I know the moment they’ll meet him they’ll fall in love like I did.

“Are you for real?” I ask in such a low voice I almost don’t hear myself.

He smiles, his eyes frowning like he is trying to understand me.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know I feel like, maybe I made you up.”

My hand goes up to touch his face but the hand that was stroking me catches my own and he kisses it deeply.

“I’m very much real.” He smiles, pulling on my arm to get me on top of him, catching my lips with his own.

And I die a little inside at that.

Chapter Text

Lover

I saw the dimple first and then I heard the accent

They say home is where the heart is

But that’s not where mine lives

You know I love a London boy

I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon

He likes my American smile

Like a child when our eyes meet

Darling, I fancy you

Tuesday May 7^th 2024

I am an optimistic person. I know I am. I’ve always been, I’ve always been praised for being such an enthusiastic child, a real sun in her teens, a smiley coworker.

I get that from my mother, they say. And I can see it because she’s even more optimistic than me.   Ever since I got diagnosed, she’s been the hopeful one. She took me to my appointment and supported me even when she had her own crappy stuff to deal with. She spoke with doctors and found new, experimentative ways to cure me. And the fact that even the doctors are hopeful makes the whole process easier. She even helped me dye my hair, because I knew I will eventually lose it. So, I was optimistic with it too. As I’ve always been, with everything.

And being optimistic helps not to worry anyone. Especially Lorie and Eve, who are my closest friends here. But tonight, I have to go alone. Because Lorie and Eve are going to their mother’s, my own mother is out of town for the whole week – a trip I insisted she took because she’s been helping me too much lately, and the cancer will wait a week – and Joe works.

So, after my shift, I will be on my own for this trip to the doctor. Because he has the results that indicate if I need chemo. And therefore, if I’ll lose my precious hair.

I love my hair.

And the prospect of facing it alone, even though I’m too pride to admit it, is terrifying. But I don’t let Lorie sees it. Her mother is exhausting to deal with enough. I didn’t even tell her I would get result tonight.

So even if I’ve always been optimistic, today the facade is a little bit harder to maintain.

“You should get ready to leave, your shift is almost over.” Lorie tells me at some point in the day while I’m watering flowers in the front store. My heart startle. I wish it wasn’t time just yet.

She’s just the cutest, always worrying about me. She even offered me a bouquet from a surplus in the delivery with my favorite flowers. It sits on the counter proudly. I’ll take it tomorrow home because I can’t take it to the doctor tonight.

“Oh, no it’s okay.” I say, refilling my watering can. “Actually, I have a meeting with a potential big client. For a party for his daughter, I think. He should be any minute. He came by earlier, I’ll leave after.”

“I can deal with it.” She says, to make sure I leave in time. 

“No, really, Lore, don’t worry. Oh, look it’s him.”

As if I summoned him, the client jogs to the shop and enters like he did earlier. The little bell near the door rings, announcing him as he makes his way through the plants and flowers, a coffee in his hand.

“Hello, sir!” I say, putting down the watering can. “Welcome.”

“Hello again, I was there this morning…”

“Right! I remember. Please come.”

I go around the corner and take the notepad we keep here for orders.

“You told me it was for a big party?” I say, biting straight in the subject.

“Yes, my daughter's birthday. I wanted to make something big because, you see I don’t get to see her often and I know she loves flowers. My wife and I divorced two years ago and Ava doesn’t live at mine. ”

I see in the corner of my eyes Lorie taking up the can to finish my job.

“What kind of flowers? Do you know what she likes?”

He looks a bit put out.

“You don’t? It’s okay.” I laugh. “Do you want bouquets or decorations or both?”

“I was thinking about a big flower arch, actually. And bouquets everywhere. What kind of decorations do you have?”

“An arch? They’re rather expensive but we can make them. Plus with the delivery it’s…”

“It’s okay, I have a large budget. And I can deal with the delivery.”

“Oh, very well. Do you know her favorite colors? You can look around if something catches your eye.”

“I know she likes things to be colorful, so maybe a mix… Oh, these are really beautiful.”

He points the flower Lorie offered me earlier.

“Oh, yeah, those are my personal favorite. We can make you an arch with those, and an assemblage of colorful flowers for the rest. Do you know how many you want?”

“Well, I’m not an expert in decoration honestly. I was thinking maybe one of you could come to my place to see what kind of work you could do. Is that something possible?”

I laugh, throwing my head back.

“Oh, yes we do that all the time for big company, charity event, wedding. Never for a private though. But we can arrange, totally. I just need to check with my boss.”

“I will need to clean my calendar as well.” He answers.

Lorie comes back behind the counter with me. I take a piece of paper we put around bouquet to absorb the water, short of anything else, and start writing my number on it.

“Okay, look, I’ll let you this number so you can call me when you know when we could come by. And you can keep it if you are satisfied with our services and want to reach out again!”

“I am deeply satisfied already.” Is his only answer. I put on my professional big smile everyone always praised me for. “But” he adds, reaching into his pocket, “I think I have the business card of the shop.”

He shows me the little white card with our logo on it.

“Perfect!” I exclaim. “I’ll be waiting for your call, then!”

He leaves and I smile all his way, even when the door close and he waves at me from outside.

I turn around to get back to my job when I see Lorie staring at me.

“What?”

“I thought you liked Joe.” She says, playfully.

“I do!” I say, taking of my apron to get ready to leave. I stuff my bag with my things, putting the piece of paper her because there’s no bin near me.

“You flirted with him!” She says to mock me.

“No I didn’t! I was just being polite.”

“Is this mysterious man single?”

I hesitate to respond, because I know she’ll make fun of me for knowing.

“He divorced his ex-wife two years ago." I say putting my bag on my shoulder. "He never sees his daughter, that’s why he wants to please her with flowers.”

She has the reaction I expected and laughs in my face.

“He just explained me so that I understood better his assignment!”

“He’s handsome. You should go for him.”

“I’m with Joe.”

“Does Joe know that?”

“Oh please, Lorie, stop that.”

I turn my back on her, looking for my keys. I know she doesn’t like Joe, or the way he acts with me from what I tell her. But I really like him and he knows how to be sweet. And I’m not leaving my life for someone else. She doesn’t have a say in this – even though I know she’s right.

“On the counter,” She tells me, like she can read my mind. I turn around to find my keys exactly where I left them earlier.

“Thank you. I’m impossible!” I smack my head with my hand. “All right, I’m going to be late. Bye!”

I take her in my arm to kiss her cheek. She really is an amazing friend.

“I’m hoping for good news!” she whisper to me.

“Good luck with your mother tonight.”

I look at her with understanding, because I know that woman and I know Lorie’s opinion on her own mother.

“It’s okay, Eve will be there.” She smiles weakly.

I squeeze her arms and leave the shop, letting her close today, because of my appointment. I try to push the anxiety down when it’s crawling up my throat and get to the closest subway entrance. I have two changes before the hospital. The New York subway is full, as always, and as old and grumpy as it gets. When I get to my first correspondence there’s a delay due to a “suspect package” on the rail. I sigh, leaving the subway to walk to my next station. When I get in front of a coffee shop, I love, I just can’t resist. I spent the night up, worrying about this. So, an overly sugared coffee seems the best right now.

“Hello, ma’am. What can I get you?” asks me the usual girl. Her little badges say “Red”.

I’m here a lot, but I guess she always sees a lot of clients. I command my usual coffee, but she says the ice machine doesn’t work. So, she hands me an overpriced burning hot coffee – that is still delicious, though. That’s why I keep coming back.

“Thank you so much! Bye.”

It’s not long to my next train, and when I get there the trains seems to run smoothly. I pack with the rest of the people, stuck between someone with a guitar case and an old man trying not to fall at the first movement of the train.

I feel suffocated in here, but I though it out, because there’s only two more station and… Suddenly the train stops, making everyone stumble on each other. Caught off guard, my coffee spills in front of me before I can catch it… straight on the girl with the guitar case.

She jumps, wiping it.

“Fuck!”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” I apologizes immediately, looking at the stain I made on her shirt. It was burning hot!

I take my bag to find something to soak it off her shirt and find a piece of absorbing paper I hand to her.

“Oh, I’m so… so sorry! I hope that wasn’t expensive.”

“No, just new” she snaps at me, annoyed. “Fuck, that was hot. It’s summer out there, who drinks that!”

She takes the paper and tap it against her shirt, as the train start again.

“I take iced usually but…” well no use in explaining my life to a stranger I just burned with coffee, right? “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

She looks up at me and her angry eyes instantly relax. I keep apologizing, but she flees my stare and look back down.

“It’s okay”, she says more quietly. “I’ll wash it.”

The train’s about to stop at my stop.

“It’s my stop I… you sure you’ll be okay? I live near, I can help you clean it, it’s my fault, I…”

But she only smiles at me, in a way that is meant to be reassuring, I’m sure. “No really, it’s okay, don’t worry.”

“Again, sorry. It sucks.” I say, smiling in my turn. She laughs at that.

“Sucks to pay 8 dollars for a coffee for it to end up on a stranger's tits, isn’t it?”

A laugh escapes me.

“Yeah, actually that was 11 dollars.” I frown, a bit ashamed of myself. So much for a good treat before my appointment.

“11 dollars? What do they put in it?” she exclaims.

“Too much sugar. And vanilla. And caramel. And whipped cream.”

I put on a reverse smile, amused, but then the train stops, and the doors open.

“Good luck washing it!” I say, apologizing one last time. “Bye.”

I leave her the paper and try to leave the station, getting lost too much in New York subway network. I drink what’s left of my coffee and finally go out in fresh air. The walk to the hospital I’ve spent my last couple of weeks is paced with my running heart, with each step getting me closer to the result I’m not sure I want to hear.

I know my walk to the oncology floor by heart, now. When I get to the waiting room the kind receptionist says that the doctor will be right here. I wait, fidgeting with my fingers, until he calls me to his office.

“Ah, Miss Lover. Please come with me.”

I follow him into the tiny space, cramped between a desk and a medicinal stuff closet.

“So,” he says as he sits down, getting a paper out of the file on the desk. “We got the result from your blood test. I’ll spare you the details, but the cancer isn’t getting better. We’ll need to be more aggressive, with the radiotherapy and watch it closely, in case we need to operate. For now you’re good, but there a high risk of metastasis.

The world stops around me, as I take in his words. For now you’re good. This is good. I’m good. I can endure radiotherapy. I’ll be okay.

The cancer is not getting better.

Oh, I wish my mother was with me, right now. I feel my eyes watering, on the verge of crying. But I put myself back together.

“Okay.” I say, unable to form any other words.

“So, we need to schedule twice as much session, and the treatments will affect you more.”

“It’s okay.” I say. As long as it is not chemo.

“I’m just going to do a quick check up on you, if it’s okay.”

I follow him into the room with his medical bed, and let him do his thing, barely listening to him. I don’t need chemo. I keep telling myself. Yet. An annoying little voice that has been threatening to smash my optimistic reputation from the beginning whispers in my ear.

When I leave, he left me an appointment for next week, in addition to the one I have on thursday. I’m going to have to clear that with Kristen. And with Lorie gone until Sunday…

Thankfully my apartment is close to Mount Sinai. I walk there, grateful to still be able to use my legs, and when I stumble into my sofa, I call my mom.

And I cry.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Oh, I shouldn’t have left, I knew it!”

“No, no stay there. I don’t know why I cry. He said I would be okay.”

“But it’s getting worse, right?”

I don’t even answer because that’s what I told her seconds ago.

“Sweetie, I’m sure the radiotherapy will work. And if it doesn’t, we’ll be here for you. Where’s your friend, Folklore? ”

“She’s staying at her mom’s for the rest of the week.”

“Is there anyone you could call?”

I sigh.

“I’ll call Joe.”

“Good girl. Don’t stay alone too much. And I’m coming back tomorrow. You can’t force me to stay.”

“No, mom you need the vacation!”

“That is not up to you anymore. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay…” I really need to see my mom.

“Call Joe, hum? You’ll do it?”

“Yes. Right when we hang up.”

“Great sweetie. I love you. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye mom.”

She hangs up, the screen of my phone turning off. I watch outside for a second, the night starting to eat the sky. Joe should be off work. I call him. It rings once, then twice, then three times. Then he answers.

“Hey beauty! What’s up?” he says cheerfully, with his British accent I love so much.

“I got my appointment.”

“Oh, right… How did it go?”

“He… he said that the cancer was getting worse.”

“Oh… shit.”

I laugh humorlessly.

“Yeah, shit. I don’t need chemo yet, though. Just a more aggressive radiotherapy.”

“Well, that’s good! Look, I was getting myself a takeout, I’ll get you something as well. I’ll be there in thirty.”

“Thank you, Joe.”

He hangs up, and I get to my piano. I bought it when I had my first salary at the flower shop. It’s not the best piece of instrument you could find but it’s definitely the most affordable.

I never took classes but self-taught myself. We had that big grand piano at my parents when I was little because dad played it a lot. I like to learn the chords of my favorite songs and play them, singing to myself.

Joe is more efficient than he said, because he’s there twenty minutes later, with Chinese.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks when we get on my sofa, eating with the sticks.

“I’d rather not. It’s worse, there’s nothing I can do more than follow the doctor’s order. End of story. Tell me about your day and stay here tonight. That’s what I need.”

“Then I shall give it to you, princess.”

And he does. He takes me in his arms and tell me all about his coworkers, and the shitty subway, and his abusive boss, and his best friend football match. And I laugh with him, lying in his arms, as he makes me forget the doctor’s words: The cancer has spread.

He tells me news of his siblings, back in London, and how excited he is to go back there this summer. Then he gets me in my bed when I can barely keep my eyes open, changing me into my pajamas.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “but I can’t stay. I have to work early tomorrow, and the office is on the other part of town.”

“S’okay” I mutter, half asleep. I ask him to stay all the time, but he never does anyway.

He kisses my cheek, then leaves and I eventually hear the door slam shut.

And before sleep gets the better of me, I find myself thinking about the girl I stained with my coffee earlier and the dimple of her smile.

Chapter Text

Evermore

One for the money, Two for the show

I never was ready, so I watch you go

Sometimes you just don’t know the answer

Til someone’s on their knees and ask you

She would have made such a lovely bride  

What a shame she’s fucked in the head, they say  

But you’ll find the real thing instead  

She’ll patch up the tapestry that I shred.  

Tuesday May 7^th.

“So, mother. Why did you summon us like that.” Lorie, my sister, asks at dinner.  

We’re sitting around her massive dinner table in her massive house she paid by liquidating all of dad’s economy once he passed.  

A week ago, I received a text from my mom, saying she wants to see both of us urgently. She insisted we came to her house at once, leaving me and Folklore quite confused as to what my excentric mother could want from us.   At work I was told I should take some vacation, so I’ve been here for a few days already. Lorie couldn’t get of work before and only arrived a few hours ago.   The few days with mom has not been too bad. We’ve had some laughs and conversation, but she mostly was out with her friends, leaving me to hang by the pool or chat with Gracie, the maid.  

But even during this time she wouldn’t tell me why she wanted to see us.  

Rebekah Harkness clears her throat. “Well, it’s not really about me, actually.”  

I just keep pushing food around in my plate when I feel her gaze on me. I would be curious about what she wants but she just showed disrespect for Lorie and I can’t stand when she acts like she is the only one in this world that matter. I look up, and both of them are looking at me.  

“What?” I ask being a bit snappy.  

“Well, how did it go? When’s the wedding?” she asks.  

It’s like cold water being poured on me. The bitch.  

Very few people would call their own mother a bitch but right now, right this instant, she is.  

“A wedding? What are you talking about?” Lorie exclaim, excitement shaking her voice.  

“I don’t…” I say, trying to salvage some posture.  

“Oh come on, young lady.” Mom snaps. “I had a man coming here to ask me for your hand like it was the 50s. He told me he would ask you last week. How did it go? When do I get to walk my daughter down the aisle? I can’t’ believe I haven’t received a text about it.”  

The bitch. Tom, this time.  

“You’re getting married, Eve, this is amazing! Why didn’t you tell me?” Lorie exclaims, stars in her eyes, marveled by the news.  

“I’m not!” I shout, slamming my fist against the table so that they will just shut it.

Lorie, across from me, freezes in her sit. My mother doesn’t react immediately.

“I turned him down.” I add, more calmly, clearing my throat.

I look down on my plate, shame creeping up my throat like acid. God, I didn’t want to do that. I planned on telling them that we broke up, but for him to… ask my mother? I can’t believe him.

“Wh… what? But why?” mom asks suddenly, confused.

“I… I just… I didn’t want to. Marry him.”

“Why didn’t you told me?” she asks in a low voice, almost hurt.

“Because this is my business.” I tell her. Then I look at her in disbelief. “You seriously made us come all the way here to trap me into admitting a wedding? I can’t believe you, mother.”

I get up and slam the door on my way out. I can’t believe this. Ignoring Gracie and the rest of the staff I run to my room, dramatically slamming the door.

I shouldn’t have come here. I know what my mother is like and this… this is exactly what was supposed to happen. And of course, he would go and ask for my hand.

I loved him. Deeply. For three years I’ve shared his life. But I knew he would never be my end game. If I’m being honest with myself, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to turn him down. I mean, there’s been signs that he wanted to marry me. Pillow talk about the future, the mention of rings, and wedding songs. The way his family has always welcomed me so warmly.

And I just turn all of it down. Our life, our group of friends… I’ll never say that word again.

We were dancing in his parents living room, all of us a bit tipsy, joyful with the music. I knew the moment was coming. I could feel it in the electricity between us. The way he looked at me, the Dom Pérignon on the counter his sister has bought, the little box piercing through his pants. I knew. Everyone knew.

I dropped his hand while dancing. I couldn’t face the fact that he would ask me, so I tried to push it for later, and left him there standing to sit on the sofa. Thunder was groaning from afar. I didn’t even know what my answer would be. The job offer in Seattle was burning a hole through my skull. Because I knew he would never, ever leave the East Coast. Never would he come with me to the other side of the country for me. Too close to his loving family, too deep in his job. But I loved him and life with him did sound like a blast. It would be comfortable, wealthy, loving and warm. Exactly what my mother would have wanted for me.

“Evermore.” He smiled, making every head in the room turn to him at the end of the song. Turned out, I couldn’t push it away. “For three years I’ve shared your life now. For three years, you’ve been my other half.”

“Tom...” I said, standing up carefully, like he was a wild animal I could stop from hurting me.

But he kept going. “And I know God has great plans for us. I’ve loved you with all my heart, all my soul and all my body since the moment we’ve met. You are the air I breath, Eve, the food I eat, the water I drink, the blood in my veins and everything that keeps me alive, that keeps me going on. I’ve been drowning before I met you and you brought me back to life. So, my beloved, I ask you tonight in front of all these witnesses of my love for you, will you marry me?”

He got on his knee, pulling from his pocket the little box I had seen around the house already. Inside was the ring his mother wore before handing it to him for me. He’s the eldest of the family.

I swallowed, hard.

“Tom…”

Everyone was holding their breathe around the room. Someone had even cut off the music.

“Eve.” He looked so hopeful, and a rush of love made its way through my heart.

But Seattle. This marriage, if it’s to be continued, would need long, hurtful conversations to which I already know the end. When I see the way his family held itself together, the hopefulness in everyone eyes…

He won’t follow you; this little annoying voice told me.

“Eve…” Tom asked, quietly, when I still didn’t answer. “Will you?”

Now it was panic, creeping up my spine. The gazes of his family hardened.

“I… I’m sorry.”

The only thing my body was able to do was run. Flee. Hide and never come back.

I left the room, head blurring, barely hearing my name being shouted behind me. Fresh air. That’s what I needed.

So, I took the front door into the suburban street, breathing hard.

It was dark out, the moon hidden by the grey clouds, but I could make out his neighbor, watering the plants in her garden, watching me. They live in such a closed suburb, by tomorrow the whole street will know about the Hiddleston’s son being rejected by his fiancé-to-be. They’ll talk about how fucked in the head I must’ve been to reject a Hiddleston.

“Eve!” Tom called me from his landing.

I turned around, to watch him. As dramatic as it gets rain started pouring down. A hand to my forehead to protect my eyes, I looked at him, not even wetting himself to come and claim me back.

“Tom I’m… I’m sorry. I just can’t.” I screamed above the noise.

He hesitated, then put his jacket above his head to join me.

“You can’t marry me? I thought we talked about it!”

“No we never talked about it!”

He chuckled humorlessly.

“Oh no, don’t do this to me, Eve. You know this was coming, why didn’t you say anything? I love you so much, I’ve been talking about it for months now! How can this come as a surprise to you?”

“I didn’t… I love you, Tom. I just… Marriage, it’s…”

“You love me, but you can’t marry me?” He was accusatory, now.

“I… there’s just…”

“And in front of my family? You had to come and let me make a fool of myself in front of my entire family?”

“Tom, it’s not about that, it’s just…”

He sneered at me, watching me like I was a piece of dirt on his shoes.

“I can’t believe you, Eve. Don’t expect an invitation this summer.”

He said that with such disgust it broke my heart a little more.

“Wait, Tom! We should talk about it!” I said, my voice choking on the word.

“No! There’s nothing to talk about. You don’t want to marry me, then it’s the end.”

“Tom!”

But he didn’t listen, still trying to cover his head with his jacket as the rain pierced through my skin, wetting me to my bones. And he disappeared into the warmness of his house.

I got the bus back, that day. Folklore didn’t ask why I was so wet, or why I was in my formal black dress when I got back, soaked in my tears. She had stayed up to kiss me goodnight, even though it was well past midnight.

Footsteps get closer to my door-room. I know it’s not mom, because she has heels. And I’ve learned Lorie footstep by heart, now. I know it’s her.

“Come in.” I murmur, not even sure she can hear it.

“It’s me.” She says, just confirming her presence.

She gets in quietly, coming closer and climbing behind me into the bed.

“I didn’t know he wanted to marry you.” She says quietly.

“Me neither.”

She doesn’t answer right away, just seem to try to find her words.

“Are you still together?” she eventually asks.

This makes me choke on my own cries.

“No. He says I humiliated him. He asked me in front of his entire family.”

“Why did you say no?”

Because I never saw happy ending for us. Because I don’t think I deserve a husband. Because I wasn’t ready. Because he will not follow me in Seattle.

“Mom’s sorry she’s too much.” She says when I don’t answer, incapable of disappointing her as well.

“She hasn’t said that to you.”  Mom is incapable of apologizing.

“No, she hasn’t.” Her laugh makes me feel a little bit better. Then she adds, almost whispering “If he was the one he would have waited for you to be ready.”

I let those words sink in.

“I know.” I sigh, turning over to watch her beautiful face, smiling with hope. “Sorry I left.”

I almost choke, forming the words. Sorry I must leave.

“It’s okay, you’re just here, Eve!” she says, joyfull, with that smile she’s worn since she was a child. A happy, cheerful child.

I can never tell her; I realize as her words pierce a hole through my heart. If I leave, she’ll never recover. I close my eyes before I can cry, and I take her in my arms. My little sister. The blood of my veins. I’m not even that upset about turning him down. I’m more upset about the fact that I got offered my dream job in Seattle and he would never be the one to follow me.

And Lorie has her perfect life here, with Lover, and her flower shop. She’ll never move as well. But if I go, she’ll never forgive me.

But now, more than ever, I need to leave. Start over, for myself.

“I love you.” She whispers against my clothes.

“I love you too, Lorie.”

°°°

Wednesday May 8^th.

“He’s cheating, Eve. I just know it.” Este cries on the phone.

Este is a friend of mine, back in New York. We’ve been close for a couple of years now, working in the same publishing agency. We meet up every Tuesday for dinner and, when it’s at her house, a glass of wine. She has met my mother many times, now, and she knew I was going this weekend. So, for her to call and beg for help, I know she is in distress. Which she just confirmed.

“He’s cheating? How do you know?” I exclaim in disbelief. I have met her husband. He is just the loveliest men I have ever seen.

“He’s just… I’m telling you, Eve. I need you, please.”

“I…” I stutter, caught off guard.

I look around like I could find help. My friend is crying on the phone I’m holding to my ear, Lorie is swimming in the pool, and my mother, in her bath suit, is lying on a deckchair, drinking one of her fancy ass cocktails made by the very young- and good-looking personal barman she hired, not caring for anything in the world about his age when she hits on him.

“Who is it?” My mother asks when she sees me still on the phone, sipping her drink.

“Este.” I say covering the microphone. “She says her husband is cheating on her, I need to see her.”

“Tell her to come here!”

“Eve?” The sobbing voice ring in my phone.

“Really mom?”

“Oh, come on I know her! And I have plenty of spare rooms.”

I shake my head but get the phone back.

“Eve, I can’t see him right now, I swear. I can’t go home.”

“Does he know that you know?”

“No, I realized a few weeks ago, and now I’m pretty sure I’m right. I don’t think he knows but I can’t see him right now. Can I stay at your place?”

“Mom says you can even come here. At Holiday House.”

“Really?”

I hear her wipe her tears.

“Yeah, it’ll be fresh air. Just ask a day off or two. And stay the weekend, we’ll come back together on Sunday.”

She hesitates, then sniff.

“Yeah, that’s sounds good.”

“Get there as soon as possible.”

“Okay, I’ll be there tonight. I’ll explain everything.”

“Good! See you tonight, then.”

She hangs up first, and I sit back in my deckchair. The horrible sound of sipping resonates in the silence, as if mom expect an explanation. Lorie climbs up the side of the pool to watch us, taking her towel to dry her face.

“It’s Este?” she asks.

“Yeah… she says her husband is cheating.”

Lorie puts a hand to her mouth, chocked.

“They all do, honey.” Is my mother response.

“Don’t tell her that when she gets here!” I exclaim, irritated.

She sighs heavily, annoyed.

“Okay, I get it! I ruin everything, your sister has been very clear on that. I won’t talk to your friend.” She gets up, putting the empty glass on the side. “I think you girls forget too easily that I raised you with all my heart. And I don’t think I ruined you.”

“Mom!”

But she storms off, irritated.

“She’s insufferable.” Lories states, taking her deckchair, the towel resting on her thighs.

“So much for a cool family weekend, right?”

“Right.”

She takes her phone, checking something on it, as I lay back down, the sun hitting hard.

“Oh shit.”

“What?” I ask, looking at my sister, who is herself looking at her phone.

She slowly raises her eyes to me, worry in her eyes.

“It’s Lover. She’s got the result. It’s not getting better.”

“She’ll need chemo?”

“No, not yet at least. But more aggressive radiotherapy.”

“You should call her.” I tell her.

“You’re right.”

Lover being sick, my failed relationship, Este being cheated on… Life is not getting better. Except for the job offer.

Lorie gets up and leaves me alone with the barman on the far end of the pool patio. He watches me, having nothing to do, and I sigh.

“Get me a whisky, please.”

“Right away.” He smiles.

Este is here four hours later. Mom had invited friends for the tea, and when it was Este that burst through the door, we were all surprised.

“You did quick!” I say, rushing to help her with her bags.

I make a sign to Gracie to take the bags upstairs.

“Yes, I just… Oh my god, Eve.”

“Come on, tell me everything.”

I take her with me to the living room and make her sit on the couch. Lorie comes too, and mom grudgingly stays outside.

“He… I’m sure he’s cheating on me, Eve. He… It’s been weeks, he’s been acting different, you know.”

“How do you know? It’s not just a feeling, right?”

“No! He… He’s been coming home late from work. Every time he smells… different. I buy him his perfume, Eve, I know what he should smell like. And I’ve found…” she sobs. “I found a receipt, in the join account, for jewelry that ain’t mine. And it was weeks ago, at first, I thought it was for my birthday but he offered me the sea retreat for two I talked to you about. A sea retreat I won’t even go to with him, I realize he probably planned to see her while I took you there… And one night… He said he was just coming home from work, but he tasted… he tasted like merlot, when I kissed him. And he hates that. I’m telling you, Eve, There’s someone else.”

“Yeah, that’s smells like infidelity,” Lorie says.

“I think I’m gonna call him out.” Este adds.

“I can’t believe him!” I say, the anger starting to raise in me, stiffening my spine. “He… Fuck! I can’t believe he would do that to you!”

Are all man trash? Tom not even listening to me, Folklore becoming an alcoholic because of one and now Este’s husband cheating… What kind of world do we live in?

“Do you know who it is?” I ask firmly.

“His mistress? No, probably someone from work.” She answers, blowing her nose with a tissue Lorie just handed her.

A plan starts to form in my head.

“And when did you say the retreat was?”

“First week of June.”

“Perfect.”

“Why?” She looks up at me with red puffy confused eyes.

I look back at her, a smirk on my face because I know what to do.

“Somebody’s gotta catch him out.”

Chapter Text

1989

When we first dropped our bags on apartment floors

Took our broken hearts, put them in a drawer

Everybody here was someone else before

And you can want who you want

Boys and boys and girls and girls

Welcome to New York

It's been waiting for you

Wednesday 8^th May

The plane is late.

Which is definitively not unusual. I’ve travelled a lot in my life. And for a plane to be late, it’s not something too much out of place in our world.

But today? Today it is a real problem.

Because I went to the airport early, like I always do. I took a coffee there, then a pastry, I sat waiting before the check-in, reading a little rom-com book of mine.

Everything was fine. Even when they called out my plane number for being late, it wasn’t much of a problem. I mean, stuff happens and there’s really no one to blame for this kind of things.

But when Calvin burst through the crowd, it became a real problem.

“No.” I said, standing up from my seat. “No. Leave, Calvin, I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Please, Tee. Please hear me out.”

“I’ve heard you, Calvin! I’ve let you talk, like a million time! Now get lost!”

I really didn’t want to make a scene in the airport, but his presence just makes my blood boil.

“No, please Tee! I’m sorry I swear. But I’m here now! Don’t leave.”

“You’ve been sorry a thousand times. It’s over, Calvin, get over it.”

I crossed my arm on my chest, like an armor. If the plane hadn’t been delayed, I would have already been past registration.

“No but this time, Tee, I swear I’ll never run away again. I know that’s what you blame me for but…”

“No, it’s too late! All you had to do was stay. You left. End of story.”

“It can’t be the end of us, Tee.” He begs, desperation in his voice.

“Really? Let me remind you this was what you wanted.”

“No, I never…” He stuttered, confused.

“Not when you said you couldn’t stand me? That I was such a burden for you?”

“I… I was drunk, Tee, I already said I was sorry…”

“Then do better! But with someone else.”

I took my travel bag and started to walk to registration, even though I was still an hour or two away from the flight. He followed me.

“Please Tee.”

“Leave me alone.”

Head high, luck with me because no one was in the queue before me, I put my bag in the little plastic box. Then my belt, and the rest of the sensible stuff.

“You’re a coward, Tee!” he screamed at me when I ignored him. “You’re a coward because we could get through this. A fucking coward!”

The agent at the metal portal looked at me with pity, as tears prickled in my eyes. This was supposed to be a fun travel, to New York, the city I’ve wanted to go to my whole life. And of course, Calvin had to come and ruin it for me.

I took my stuff back, and marched away from his screaming mad voice, letting him make a fool of himself. Then I found toilets and cried.

Hours later, I’m descending the plane, waiting at baggage claim, make-up cleaned up and tears away because I just set foot in New York City.

So the plane being late was a real problem. But I decided during the flight that I would not let it be one.

I turn on my phone and find 17 missed called, all from Never talked to that asshole again. That brings a smile to my face. At least I was clear in my intentions when I renamed him. I swipe the notifications for them to disappear, and then find my luggage. Then my travel bag on the blue plastic suitcase, I walk the long halls toward the exit.

My heart gets a little disappointed when the exterior of the airport only ends up being an industrial zone. But I shake my head. This is not Manhattan.

Now I have two options. Either I’m being stingy and take the trains to my hotel, or I can take a taxi that will cost me way too much, but I’ll see New York.

The second option it is.

I follow the signs to the taxi station and eventually find one when five other people take the ones before. I give him the hotel address and the first 10 minutes of the ride are just industrial view. But when we cross the bridge into Manhattan… I understand why I so badly wanted to come here.

We ride along the Harlem River, but on the other side, despite the traffic, it’s New York, the city that never sleeps, unfolding before me. Clenched to the window like a child, I watch the buildings passing one by one, the green scraps of what I’m certain is Central Park far away in the street, then the landscape becoming skyscrapers higher than I could ever dream of. We eventually turn inside the heart of the city near NoHo, and he drops me in front of a shabby-looking hotel.

I hand him the bills and then get my suitcase from the back. I’m about to turn to say thank you but before I know it, he’s gone. Well. New Yorkers, I guess.

I turn back to the hotel. I couldn’t afford much more, to be honest, but I won’t spend much time here anyway.

I go in and register at the front desk. The gentle lady hands me a card and a room number, then shows me the elevator.

I pull my suitcase there, and just before the doors are about to close an arm gets inside, to hold the lift. I push the button to open the door and a man enters, smiling gladfully.

“Thank you.” He says, pushing his floor number on the panel.

“No problem.” I smile back.

He looks at me for a bit, smiling, then stands next to me, looking at the elevator’s door. We wait a bit, climbing up the few floors before ours. But suddenly the elevator stops, making me stumble on my feet, my suitcase almost falling over.

We both look around, then he proceeds to push the buttons, but the elevator isn’t moving.

“Oh no!” I exclaim. That’s a great way of starting the day, isn’t it? On my first day in New York, stuck on an elevator.

“Shit!”

I look at him, as he watches up, and then back at the buttons. He presses the help button, and soothing music with a robotic voice says “Your call has been sent. Help will be here shortly. Your call has been sent. Help will be here shortly.”

“I think we’re stuck here.”

“Damn!” I exclaim. “I had so many things planned!”

That’s not entirely true. I know what I wanted to do today, visit the south part of Manhattan. But I was more going to get there and see where life got me.

“You’re just passing through?” the guy asks me.

“Yes, vacation.” I sigh. “I just arrived, I wanted to get a look of Central Park before hitting the empire state building. And the Statue of Liberty of course. I heard there’s ferry boat to get there. Now that’s kind of busted.”

“No, maybe the help will be there shortly.” He tries to reassure me without much conviction in his voice. I laugh at that because the voice keeps saying it over and over again.

“What about you?” I then ask.

“Oh, I’ve been here a few times already. But I’m here for work. If you want any advice, the Empire State isn’t worth it. I know a secret spot that is less touristic and much more impressive, I could give you the adress. And for the statue of liberty, you should try it at night. It’s amazing.”

“Really? I was planning on going to Time Square, tonight.”

“Well, that also, obviously. How long are you staying?”

His question catches me off guard.

“Oh, euhm… 10 days.” I lie.

After the disaster with Calvin I decided it was time to make a change of air, and take that trip I’ve always wanted to do. But I’ve only taken a one-way ticket. Because I have nothing holding me back in Tennessee and I want to see where life gets me. So maybe I’ll get bored in ten days and go home. Maybe I’ll start a road trip across the states, toward Florida. Maybe I’ll fly over the country to California. I don’t know yet. And I don’t want to know. My parents do not know that, and I don’t plan on telling them until I know myself.

“Oh, you’ll have time to enjoy, then.”

“Yes, I’m planning on it, trust me. There’s just to much to see, right? It’s New York, baby!”

He laughs almost sadly.

“Yes, it is. I wish I was as pumped about it all as you. But New York from inside an office gets boring.”

“How long are you staying?”

“A week. Maybe more, depending on how the work advances.”

“Where do you work?”

“At a commercial firm that specializes in eco manufacturing and next-generation farming solutions. They want to open a branch in New York for marketing and communication technologies.”

“Whoa, that sounds boring.”

He laughs at that. “Yeah, it kind of is. I’m not that excited by New York, you can imagine.”

“Yeah, I bet. But you’ve been here already, right?”

“Yes, I know the neighborhood. I mean, I’ve explored the area, because staying inside this hotel? It’s kind of depressing. I work in a million-dollar industry, and they don’t even give me a decent hotel.”

“I’m sure New York has secrets you have yet to discover.”

“I wish.”

“Come on! You’re staying at the same hotel as me! Just take me to your secret spot tomorrow night. And then I’ll show you that New York can be a blast. Even if, so far, I’ve mostly seen the inside of this elevator.”

His smile now reaches his ears.

“Okay, then. What’s your name?”

“Tee.”

“Harry.”

I nod, and magically the voice stops, and the elevator moves again. Turns out I’m three floors down his, so I leave first with my bags.

“See you around, Tee?”

“See you around.”

I watch his quite beautiful face until the door closes between us. Then I exhale. Well, that put me in a delay, but at least I already have one friend here.

I go to my room and change from my plane clothes, putting on a pair of short jeans and a white tank top. Then I take my tourist bag, where I got my camera, sunscreen, phone, map and a guide, as well as a water bottle. When I’m ready, I put my sunglasses on my nose, and leave the hotel room because the atmosphere is oppressing, and New York is waiting for me.

When I step outside, surrounded by high buildings, traffic around me, New Yorkers pulling faces, I breathe in deeply the polluted air and smile. That’s exactly what I wanted.

Looking at my little guide, I decide to first hit Greenwich Village because it seems like a nice neighborhood, and I like the photos of the guide. I walk, amazed by literally everything I see, from a scrap of blue water far away between two buildings to the couple giving a homeless person a dollar. I’m transcended by the people, the sun, the sounds.

I walk until Washington Square Park, that I cross, then start to go south. I better go to the statue of Liberty first, I decided. So, I walk into the financial district, where I treat myself with a coffee. It takes me 45 minutes to Wall Street but each one of them is a pleasure, with the sweet taste of my over sugary coffee.  I go inside every church I find on my way, glad for the fresh air. Then I keep walking, my legs starting to feel sore, toward the ferry company. I take my tickets from a very nice old lady and get on the ferry with a lot of other tourists. I can tell by the way they cling to their maps.

But I stay at the edge of the boat, water splashing on my face as we move forward, looking at the water around me. Until I see her. Lady Liberty herself.

She’s even more magnificent than my wildest dreams. We go around with the boat, then it stops at the little island, and we can visit for thirty minutes around her feet. Getting at the top would have meant taking the tickets a month ago, which I couldn’t have done.

When we’re back at the ferry station, I walk to the trains, because I can’t walk up to Central Park on my already sore legs. But I love the experience even here. I wait at South Ferry station, between the odors of piss and vomit, watching the ad boards. Now, this is life. Not my cottoned-up Tennessee town. I was made for the city.

The ad in front of me is promoting an all-night exhibition at Zurcher Gallery. I think I saw that name in my guide. I take it out of my bag, looking for it. When I catch the name, I realize it’s right beside my hotel.

I look at the date, which happens to be tonight. I like art. That could be fun.

I get on the train, and it starts moving up. I wait, stop after stop. But then, I see the stop is Time Square. I almost jump out of the train, nearly getting stuck between the doors. I need to feel the heart of New York.

I get out of the station, and I am welcome with a tornado of colors and sounds. It’s just lights, and songs, and colors, and chatter everywhere. People walking, and people dancing, and people crying, having fun, doing shopping or watching clowns and dressed up people walking against the current. I throw myself in it, taking the direction of Central Park. I can’t wait to see this at night.

I stop to take something to eat,  so deeply mesmerized by everything that I’m pretty sure the seller thinks I’m crazy, or high. But isn’t this the city of crazy?

Welcome to New York, as they say.

I get to Central Park to enjoy my mid-afternoon sandwich until I find a board saying, “Central Park Zoo”. I go there a bit, but the sight of those sad animals being caged is just too heart-breaking. I walk up for another thirty minutes to Metropolitan Museum of Art. I spend two hours there, going around the gallery, wandering about the paintings and the statues and the sculptures, in the cool air-conditioned atmosphere.

When I leave, the sun is starting to go down, the evening coming up. I don’t let myself rest and walk back south to Time Square. The night has started to eat up the sky when I reach it, and the huge boards are passing advertisings for Broadway shows. I had it to my mental list of things to do. Who doesn’t dream of seeing Moulin Rouge in Broadway, right?

I am very fond of this street, I realize. I don’t have much time to stay here because I meant to go eat something before heading for Zurcher Gallery. So I enjoy the walk to the closest Subway station. I stop two stations before the one my GPS says is the closest to my hotel and find a pizzaiolo on the walk to the hotel. The pink sky became blue, then black in the time I reach the hotel. I get there and change, in a twirling skirt and stilettos, because the walk is not long, and I want to feel nice. I also put on a jean jacket, to not get cold because the temperature has dropped outside.

I follow my GPS to get there, but when I’ve seen three times the same phone reseller across the street, I’m starting to think it is messing with me. I try to locate my position with what is around me and my memory, but I didn’t take the guide with me. Not sure what to do, I look around for help. Until a girl is coming straight my way, looking down.

“Excuse me?” I speak.

She stops as I show her my phone.

“Hi, sorry, I’m just a bit lost. I need to get to Zurcher Gallery, but the GPS is being buggy and I’m not sure I’m on the street it shows me.”

She raises her eyebrows.

“Oh, yeah, sure, I’m going there too.” She exclaims. “It’s down this street and then on your left. Five minutes from here.”

“Oh really! You going to see the exhibition too?” I ask, excited.

She hesitates, but then smiles:

“Yes, I love art.”

She heads the way toward the gallery, with a sign of her head for me to follow her.

“You’ve already been there?” I ask out of curiosity.

“Yes, a time or two. You?”

“Oh no! It’s my first time in New York actually. I saw this All-Night Exhibition on a paper on the subway and thought, why not? I’ve never been to a gallery before.”

“Really? Where are you from?”

“Tennessee. My plane landed this morning.”

“Oh, so visiting?”

“Yes, I’m walking my legs out since noon.” I joke.

“Aren’t you tired? I think planes are exhausting.”

“Oh, no. I travel a lot and I don’t have time to listen to my body being tired when there’s so much to see. I basically function on caffeine right now.” I laugh and am delighted to see she laughs as well.

“Where do you sleep tonight?” she innocently asks.

“Oh, I just left the hotel I booked, back up a bit on the street. I had to get ready, it is an exhibition after all!”

I wink, swirling with my skirt and high heels. She is in jeans and a simple knitted tee, with a big fur coat above it all.

“I’m not sure there’s a dress code,” she remarks.

“No, there isn’t, I checked. I just wanted to look nice.”

I like to look nice.

I’m pleased to see that she is a fast walker. I’ve always been tall, and she is approximately the same height. With legs that long, people don’t usually keep up, and it’s annoying. She can.

“You look nice,” she says.

I turn to look at her, the compliment warming my heart somehow.

“Oh, here it is!” I say turning back to the street where I see the gallery.

We both enter, but I check in first, paying the feen to the well-dressed man, and then going a bit more inside. All the paintings and sculptures, playing around a perfect set up of light, enhancing everything.

“I didn’t catch your name.” She says when she joins me after paying her ticket.

“Tee” I say turning to her. “Nice to meet you.”

“Midnights.” She takes the hand I showed her. And then she asks, as everyone does: “Is it really your name?”

“No, my name is too long. Everyone calls me Tee. Please don’t make a joke with coffee, because it does gets old.”

She laughs, and it feels more genuine than the last one.

“What, no. I wouldn’t stood so low. I’m much more fun than that. You want to walk around together?”

I feel my heart twisting with delight. I love meeting strangers.

“With pleasure.” I say reassured, handing her my arm.

Chapter Text

Reputation

Is it cool that I said all that?

Is it chill that you're in my head?

'Cause I know that it's delicate

Is it cool that I said all that?

Is it too soon to do this yet?

'Cause I know that it's delicate

Wednesday 8^th May

I look at the paper, unable to tear my eyes off it. I’m being ridiculous, because I didn’t even look at Deb when she said goodbye for school, and I’ve sleep badly, thinking about this paper on my nightstand.

Lover.

That subway girl handed me a paper, that is now stained with coffee (as much as my shirt that I tried to clean again this morning, uselessly) with a name and a number on it. Did she do it on purpose? Was she handing me her number? It’s not possible, she couldn’t have planned that. And she seemed genuinely upset about the situation. She couldn’t have written that purposefully to give me those information about her. That was a random paper on her bag, with a name and number on it.

Maybe it’s not even her name. Maybe someone else has given her a number and a name for her to call. Then it means she likes girls, because Lover does sound like a girl name. But she did give it to me to clean coffee off my shirt, so either she doesn’t care about that Lover girl and the number she gave her enough because she disposed of it quickly, or she is a very, very caring person who would sacrifice an eventual date to help a stranger on the subway because of how embarrassed she was for spilling the coffee on me.

And if that is the case, maybe she would want the number back, wouldn’t she?

My shift today starts at eleven. And the flower shop from the paper is just across the street. But if my theory is right, then the girl from the flower shop is Lover, the girl who gave pink-hair girl her number.

Wait, maybe she disposed of it without blinking because she is not actually interested in girls.

But on the other hand, she does have pink dye. And that is fucking queer.

Anyway, even if Pink-Hair is not Lover, she goes to this flower shop. Because that Lover gave her her number from the paper from the flower shop. So, they obviously met there.

It doesn’t cost me shit to go there and see. I can buy Deb flowers, that’ll cheer her up. She might try to talk to Drew, today.

I fall back in my sofa, the paper on the coffee table.

I’m being so worked up about a girl I talked to for about twelve second. What is wrong with me?

But it’s not just a girl, right? I got her fucking number. If it’s her number. Because Pink-Hair could be that Lover. Or she could be the girl Lover wants to date.

Wait, maybe they don’t even want to date. She could have given her her number for… business. It is a flower shop after all.

I take a pillow and scream in it.

I’ll go to my shift and pass by the flower shop next. That is the plan. That is a fucking good plan.

I try to work on my music, but it’s utterly useless, because my mind is somewhere else completely.

When the time to go comes around, I take out Bertha and drive a bit over the speed limit to work, to decompress. Clients are particularly annoying today, and I end up the shift on the verge of hitting one of them.

I sit on my motorcycle back in the back street to decompress and breath a bit. The paper is in my pocket, I can almost feel it burning against my leg. I wrote the number at home on a post it, just in case, and took it with me to give it back if she wanted it. If whoever is there wants it.

Each step I feel like I might regret but nothing can happen to me other than a little embarrassment, so I watch the shop get closer, and closer, until I enter, the bel ringing as the door pushes it.

There’s plant everywhere, which is to be expected in a flower shop. I advance a bit, pushing a leave away from my face.

A sales assistant is keeping her back to me, doing something with a bouquet on the table behind her. And my heart jump in my chest when I realize she has her tip dyed in pink.

She turns around, and for a moment I froze. Then her face lightens up, as if she recognizes me.

“Guitar girl!” She exclaims with a smile on her face.

My brain gets the function of speech again, so I exclaim with the same energy:

“Pink-Hair girl!”

She really is right in front of me. She’s even more beautiful now than she was yesterday.

“Hi, it’s… what a coincidence! It’s funny to see you here. How can I help you?”

“Hi, yeah, it’s… a coincidence. I just… I work at the restaurant across the street. I just ended my shift and wanted to buy flowers for my little sister.” I half lie.

On her apron is a little badge with her name. Lover.  So, it is her.

“You know what kind?”

I chuckle. “Well, you’re the expert.”

She turns around the counter to go to the flowers shelf. “What’s your budget?”

“Oh, euhm… twenty dollars? Is it okay? I have no idea how much it costs.”

“Oh yeah, that would be a big enough bouquet. She’s a lucky girl.”

So am I.

“What colors does she likes?”

I look at the flower, taken aback.

“I think this one. And maybe those.”

“Oh, a very earthy girl. I know just the thing.”

She starts picking up flowers and leaves, then lead me back to the counter to arrange them.

“How’s your shirt? I am again very sorry I stained it like that.”

“It’s okay.” I say, knowing damn well the shirt is still stained and the mark has spread.

“You said it was new.”

“It gives it a certain style.”

She wets her lips with her tongue, smiling, and I have to look away because I feel like I’m no better than a man.

“So it is still stained!” she exclaim, blaming herself. “I am so sorry. Look, this is on me. I can’t…”

She hands me the bouquet she just finished.

“No, you’re kidding, come on, it’s not that deep. Here.” I hand a twenty bill.

“No seriously, I need to pay you back. I mean, fate has brought you to my path again, it’s a sign I should make amends for my action.”

I laugh awkwardly. Right. Fate.

“Then I should not accept your amends. I mean it, it’s nothing. I didn’t even like it.”

“But you wore it.”

“Because I had nothing else.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah! Don’t worry. Oh, by the way,” I say, reaching into my pocket. “Here’s the paper you gave me. It had some stuff written on it, so I thought it might have been important. And now that I see you again…”

She takes it, a bit perplexed. Then her brows shot up.

“Oh, right. It’s nothing.” She laughs, then threw it in the trash.

Then we both watch each other without speaking, a bit embarrassed.

“Alright, then, maybe I’ll…” She starts.

“Would you like to go and get coff…” I say at the same time.

We laugh, but her smile doesn’t falter a bit.

“Go ahead.” She says.

“No, you first.”

“Come on, please.”

I sigh, and give in.

“I said, would you like to go and get coffee, sometime? Since last time my tee-shirt soaked yours.”

Her eyes widen, happiness eradiating from her. I don’t know how to explain it but she just has an aura…

“I love coffee.”

“I love… flowers. You could tell me about flowers, because I don’t understand how you make such a perfect arrangement for a girl you don’t even know.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

“What are you doing tomorrow?” I ask.

“Oh, I… I end my shift at 6 tomorrow. What about you?”

“I’m on the night shift, so that’s the hour I start at. What about Friday? I end up approximately at the same time as today.”

“Me too!”

“Okay, I can just pop by, and we’ll see, then?”

“Definitely.”

“Great!”

We stare at each other a bit more, then I nod, not sure what to add, even though I would like for this moment to last forever.

“Bye then.”

“Bye…” she says, waiting for something.

“Reputation.” I answer her silent question. “Rep.”

“Lover.”

We smile like kid in front of sweets.

“Bye Lover.” I say.

“Bye Rep.” she answers.

And I exit the shop, my bouquet in hand, heart pounding in my heart.

°°°

I am finally able to work on something that night. A song, but I only have the chorus and bridge so far, having found my inspiration in my delusion about this girl. Jack sent me the beat a week ago and I’ve been working on some guitar arrangement and lyrics. And that girl… It just matches perfectly. And I have some stuff for the verses but only a melody.

“This ain't for the best

I’ve only met you twice, so” (I definitively need to change that.)

You must think I’m crazy.

We can't make

Any promises now, can we, babe?

But you can make me coffee”

I reread the chorus and my notes, but It kind of suck. But the bridge, that I’m sure of. I put the bridge part of the beat he sent me and sing along.

“Sometimes I wonder, when you sleep

Are you ever dreaming of me?

Sometimes when I look into your eyes

I pretend you're mine all the damn time”

Yeah, that is perfect. I’m quite proud of it. I put the beat back to the beginning, to try and find some verses, modifying some instrument and pitches on the track, then plugging my guitar to try some stuff.

“Nana nanana na nanana

Phone lights up my nightstand in the black

Come here, you can meet me in the back

Add something I need to figure out,

Oh damn, never seen that… something

Just think of the fun things we could do.”

The chorus passes, then I nananana the part I don’t know yet on the second verse.

“Gorgeous, you're a mansion with a view

Do the girls back home touch you like I would?”

I’m getting somewhere, I know. I’ll tell Jack to pop by tomorrow so he can help me with the lyrics.

I write down everything I can, then get back on the guitar to work.

My room door burst open, and as I turn around, I take off my headset, startling.

“Hi sunshine.” My best friend says, taking the full length of the doorway, watching me.

“Fuck, Mid! Hi!” I exclaim, starting to clean the mess in my room. “I thought you’ll be later! Sorry for the mess.”

I close my computer and get the guitar in its case. If I’m being honest, I forgot I invited her over. I send her the contract Paul had forwarded me from the record company because she used to work at a lawyer agency, but with my meeting with Lover I’ve been… distracted.

“Did you have a chance to read the contract?” I ask, getting the last thing cleaned.

“Yes, you are absolutely right, don’t sign this. It’s so nicely done that there’s no way of proving any abusive part on it. You’ll never get out.”

Finally, someone with some sense.

“I know, that’s what I keep telling Paul and the others. You hungry?”

I leave my bedroom because it’s too messy anyway, and head for the kitchen. A little snack would be good, even for me.

“Deb, turn this off, you have homework.” I say when we get behind the counter when I see her watching her show. She barely stopped by my room earlier when she got back.

“No, I don’t! I only have an exam but that’s ages away.”

“Right!” I remember now about her Drew situation. “Did you ask Drew to come revise with you?”

I get in the fridge to get some stuff to make a jam and peanut butter toast.

“Oh, sweetie, what happened?” Midnight says behind me.

I look behind me, where Mid went to sit newt to Deb. Tears are prickling in her eyes.

“Deb?” I ask, seeing how sad she is. I didn’t even saw that earlier! How could I not know she was sad?

She sobs and hides her face behind her hands.

“Oh, I’m so stupid.”

Midnights immediately takes her in her arms reassuringly.

“Oh no, sweetie. What happened?” she asks, as I quickly make the toasts. A toast will cheer her up.

“I… I did ask Drew if he wanted to come. But… Well Jessica heard it, and laughed at me saying I had a crush on him in front of everyone.”

Holding her hands to her eyes she cries in my friend arms, shamefully.

“What a bitch!” I shout, truly pissed off.

“Rep!” Mid exclaims, blaming my vocabulary.

I don’t care. Nobody should make my Debut cry.

“No! No one should dare to treat you like that. I’ll get you to school tomorrow, Deb, and she’ll get a taste of her own medicine.”

Now Deb looks up, genuinely afraid.

“You won’t hit her, right?” Deb asks with a little voice.

I cringe, almost offended. Come on, she doesn’t think that of me, right?

“What? No, I’m not a monster. I’ll tell her to stay away from you.” I take the toasts to them and sit on the only armchair of the living room, across the sofa.

“Did Drew said anything?” I ask.

“No.” she answers, taking a slice of jammed bread.

“He so does not deserve you.” Midnight says

“Yeah, but he is…”

“So cool” I can’t help myself from finishing, mimicking Deb’s voice and her country accent.

She smiles, so I know she doesn’t actually take it badly, and she takes a pillow to throw it at me, that I catch mid-air.

“Come on, it’s going to be okay. You’re going home this weekend; you’ll forget all about his sad ass.” I tell her, cuddling the pillow.

She wipes her tears, a bit cheered up, eating her snacks.

“Do you have wine?” Mid asks me.

I smirk.

“Drinking already?” I ask mischiefly.

“I’m too stressed.” She admits.

Fuck! I realize she has her exhibition tonight. Why do my brain keep forgetting important things? She had made me promise we will come. I get up to take two glasses and a bottle of wine I keep in case of an emergency – which today seems to be.

“It’s going to be okay, I’m sure.” I say from there. “We’ll come by later with Deb.”

“Where? What’s happening?”

“My exhibition.” She answers.

“Oh my god!” Deb exclaims, suddenly excited despite her red eyes. “I forgot about that! It’s so cool, you have your own exhibition!”

I pour two drinks.

“Well, not my own. A few of my paintings are exposed and I’m not the only artist. But there might be some gallery owners that could be interested.”

“I’m sure they’ll see how good of a painter you are,” I say sitting back and handing her a glass of wine. “Are your parents going to be there?”

“No, thank god, no.” Mid answer with relief.

Her parents aren’t supportive of her turn in career.

“You don’t want them there?” Deb asks innocently.

She laughs, then shake her head. “No. They don’t think it’s a smart way of living.”

“My parents are annoying me on that as well. She’s harassing me with text to know if I applied to colleges. I kind of resent going there this weekend.”

“It’s okay not to know what you want to do in life, Deb, I swear,” I reassures her. “And if you find something near here, you’ll always have a room in this house.”

I swear I can see a flash of sadness in Deb’s eyes. But she wipes it away with a gentle smile.

“I don’t think mom wants me far away from her again.”

Right, her mom. She has parents, and a house. I loved having her here but if she has to go… The house will feel pretty empty the day she leaves.

“I need to go; with the traffic I want to get there early.” Midnight says, stopping the thoughts.

“Right. I swear we’ll pass by. See you later.”

“If you can’t because she has school, I would totally understand…”

I take her in my arms to stop her non-sense.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll see if she wants to sleep early, she’ll stay here. See ya!” I add, waving.

“Bye Mid. See ya!” Deb shouts, having already started her show again.

My friend looks back at me for a second, then waves as well. She tries to hide it but now, in this little instant before I close the door, I can see the stress on her face. When I hear her step on the staircase, I turn around to get to Deb again.

“You know you can stay here if you want.”

“I know.” She smiles.

“But you don’t want to?”

I sit back down.

“What? Of course I do! It’s just… mom you know. I’m their only child. They worry a lot. But I’ll reassure them this weekend. If I can stay here next year, I’ll love it. But I just… don’t know what I’ll do.”

I nod. I understand. But I’m being a little selfish at the same time. I love Deb so much I can’t stand the thought of not having her back in my house. She came around at a time when… I didn’t have much purpose. My own parents have never been the loving kind. My father killed himself, after years of abuse on my mom. And I haven’t seen mom in years, now. She moved halfway across the country when I went to uni. We call each other once in a while but not much more. I found Mid at uni, and then it’s with her that I’ve spent my Christmases ever since. But I knew Deb and her family since her parents babysat me when Deb was a baby and my father was being an irresponsible prick. Then it was me that babysat Deb, for years once I turned twelve. When her mother called me to host her for a year in august, the band wasn’t getting anywhere, I didn’t have a job and I had quit uni for the third time because nothing suited me. So, I accepted because Mary practically raised me, and she knew I was fucking my life up (I call her more often than my own mother). I got that great apartment (with her help for the caution, but Deb doesn’t know that), found a job to make money, and settle down. For Deb.

“Drew really is an ass, if he didn’t say anything.” I tell her.

“I know.”

She sighs.

“Can I watch my show, now?”

I chuckle.

“Yes. I’ll make dinner. You’ll get ready for Midnight exhibition afterward.”

“Of course!”

So that’s exactly what we do, and when we’re done with dinner, she puts on the green helmet I offered her and the jacket and pants I force her to wear when she’s riding with me, and we’re off to the gallery on my motorcycle.

Chapter Text

Midnights

I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser

Midnights become my afternoons

When my depression works the graveyards shift all of the people

I’ve ghosted stand there in the room

Wednesday may 8^th 2024

I knock on Rep’s door for the fifth time. I’m so sure she fell asleep. She told me she had rehearsal just before and with the shit their potential manager has pulled off, she is exhausted, fighting against him, and her bandmates that wants to agree to the awful contract she made me read this morning.

When I asked her how her meeting went, she only sent me a file that took me all my subway ride to read. And I know shady contract from my previous job, so I can tell she’s making the right call.

I hear some noise behind the door, and finally the keys opening it. It’s Debut tiny figure that crack it open.

“Oh, hi Deb!” I salute her.

Of course there’s also Debut, that Rep must take care of, that adds to the exhaustion she piles up.

“Hi Midnights! Didn’t know you were coming by! Rep’s working in her room with her music at full volume. Come in.”

I smile politely and follow her inside. She goes straight back to the sofa to start again her show and I follow the music to Rep’s room.

“Hi sunshine,” I say when I enter. She startles in surprise, taking of her headset. She has a guitar connected to her computer and the music software she spent so much time on open on her screen.

“Fuck, Mid! Hi! I thought you’ll be later! Sorry for the mess.”

She starts frantically cleaning her things, unplugging her guitar and closing all the tab in her screen.

“Did you have a chance to read the contract?” she asks, putting away her guitar in its case.

“Yes, you are absolutely right, don’t sign this. It’s so nicely done that there’s no way of proving any abusive part on it. You’ll never get out.”

“I know, that’s what I keep telling Paul and the others. You hungry?”

She gets out of her room to the kitchen-living room, and I follow her.

“Deb, turn this off, you have homework.”

“No, I don’t! I only have an exam but that’s ages away.”

“Right!” exclaims Rep. “Did you ask Drew to come revise with you?”

She starts getting things out of the fridge to make a snack plate, without looking at her roommate. But I see the face Deb makes when she turns around to watch us. She’s upset and she even seems on the verge of crying.

“Oh, sweetie, what happened?” I say as I approaches her to sit next to her.

When she hears the worry in my voice Rep’s head snap up, licking her finger full of jam from the bread and jam she’s making for us three.

“Deb?” she asks, pitifully.

Her little sister start crying.

“Oh, I’m so stupid.”

I shake my head and reach for her, holding her. I’ve known Deb since I’ve known Rep.

“Oh no, sweetie. What happened?”

“I… I did ask Drew if he wanted to come. But… Well Jessica heard it, and laughed at me saying I had a crush on him in front of everyone.”

Holding her hands to her eyes she cries in my arms, shamefully.

“What a bitch!” Rep shouts truly pissed off.

“Rep!” I shot back, still stroking Deb’s hair.

“No! No one should dare to treat you like that. I’ll get you to school tomorrow, Deb, and she’ll get a taste of her own medicine.”

Now Deb looks up, genuinely afraid. I am too because Rep can sometimes… overreact.

“You won’t hit her, right?” Deb asks.

Rep’s face cringes.

“What? No, I’m not a monster. I’ll tell her to stay away from you.” She gets the plates on the coffee table in front of the TV and sits on the other side of Deb.

“Did Drew said anything?” Rep asks.

“No.” she answers, taking a slice of jammed bread.

“He so does not deserve you.” I say, having no idea who that guy is. But it seems to cheer her up.

“Yeah, but he is…”

“So cool” Rep finishes, mimicking Deb’s voice and her country accent.

The later takes a pillow and throw it at her, which makes Rep laughs.

“Come on, it’s going to be okay. You’re going home this weekend; you’ll forget all about his sad ass.”

She wipes her tears, a bit cheered up, eating her snacks.

“Do you have wine?” I suddenly ask Rep.

Her face mischievously lightens up.

“Drinking already?”

“I’m too stressed.” I admit.

She stands up to get glasses and a bottle of white wine, saying from the kitchen.

“It’s going to be okay, I’m sure. We’ll come by later with Deb.”

“Where? What’s happening?”

“My exhibition.” I answer.

“Oh my god!” She exclaims, suddenly excited despite her red eyes. “I forgot about that! It’s so cool, you have your own exhibition!”

“Well, not my own. A few of my paintings are exposed and I’m not the only artist. But there might be some gallery owners that could be interested.”

“I’m sure they’ll see how good of a painter you are,” says Rep when she sits down handing me a glass of wine. I take it and drink it like it’s the only thing keeping me alive. I try to act relaxed but deep down… I feel like I might throw up.

If tonight doesn’t go well, or if no one turns interested in my paintings… It would make my parents right. And I know my mother would delight in the idea of my failure when she spent her life telling me to follow a safe path.

“Are your parents going to be there?” Rep asks.

“No, thank god, no.” I hurriedly answer. They live on the other side of the country. I told them I was exposed tonight, so that they might recognize that leaving the law firm wasn’t such a bad idea. But they only answered that being exposed doesn’t bring any money.

“You don’t want them there?” Deb asks innocently.

I laugh, then shake my head. “No. They don’t think it’s a smart way of living.”

“My parents are annoying me on that as well. She’s harassing me with text to know if I applied to colleges. I kind of resent going there this weekend.”

“It’s okay not to know what you want to do in life, Deb, I swear,” Rep reassures her. “And if you find something near here, you’ll always have a room in this house.”

A flash of sadness passes through her eyes, before she smiles at her.

“I don’t think mom wants me far away from her again.”

Now it’s Rep that seems almost hurt. I realize this discussion shouldn’t include me. And anyway, I wanted to get at the gallery early. I serve myself another glass of wine that I drown, then get up.

“I need to go; with the traffic, I want to get there early.”

“Right. We’ll pass by, I swear. See you later.”

“If you can’t because she has school, I would totally understand…”

She takes me in her arms to say goodbye. It’s a night exhibition which makes it start quite late.

“No it’s okay. I’ll see if she wants to sleep early, she’ll stay here. See ya!”

“Bye Mid. See ya!” Deb shouts, having already started her show again.

Rep gets me to the doors and shouts goodbye again when I’m in the staircase. I exit her apartment and stop a taxi when I see one. I give the art gallery address and try to think about something else than the anxiety of tonight. At least Rep will come by.

My heart is pounding out of control. The wine allowed me to relax a bit. I take deep breath, like my therapist told me a few months ago, and try to think about something cheerful. Like the fact that maybe my life could change tonight. Someone will love my work and buy it, and then expose me in his art gallery.

I see a text from my current situationship that I deliberately ignore. He’s comfort when I need it but right now, he is not what I want to think about. Nor is my mother. Or the potential shame and failure that awaits me in – I check the taxi GPS – 30 minutes?!

I’ve been in the car for at least 20 already!

“What’s happening?” I ask the driver. Then I look around and see that we’re stopped in East Village.

“There’s lot of traffic” he only answers. Shit. I was early but that might make me a bit late. When we barely went forward a street and I see the arrival time being even later, I get money from my purse.

“Sorry, I can’t be late, I’ll go by foot. Here.”

He takes my money and I open the door, crossing on the road to the nearest sidewalk, honked by annoyed drivers. We’re in May and the temperatures have been over the roof for spring, but now the night gets a bit chilly, and I’m glad for my fur coat. It’s already dark, but we can’t see anything in the sky because of all the light pollution. Even though I always found New York City at night one of the most beautiful things ever. The buzz of life, the thrills of happiness, the lost tourist, the dance of lights… It’s just got something of a charm to it.

I take the direction of the gallery, having a hard time making my way through the crowd of people leaving the cinemas, of the restaurants, or just walking around the city hand in hand.

I turn to a less crowded street, eyes on the floor because I don’t want any canvassers to ask me to sign whatever they need money for, or men whistling to ask for my number. This is still New York City after all.

The massive skyscrapers frame my quick walk to the gallery. The walk allows me to set my mind on the soreness of my legs rather than on the upcoming exhibition. But my mind refuses to stop thinking about the terrifying outcome where mom’s right, and I’m not good enough for this world.

“Excuse me?”

I stop in my tracks when I realize the voice is speaking to me. It’s a girl holding her phone to me.

“Hi, sorry, I’m just a bit lost. I need to get to Zurcher Gallery, but the GPS is being buggy and I’m not sure I’m on the street it shows me.”

I raise my eyebrow, surprised.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” I say. “I’m going there too. It’s down this street and then on your left. Five minutes from here.”

“Oh really! You going to see the exhibition too?”

I’m about to answer that I am one of the artists but… Well, I don’t want to show off when this could be my worst downfall.

“Yes, I love art.”

Shitty answer, I punch myself mentally.

“You’ve already been there?” she asks, as we start walking toward the direction I just gave her.

“Yes, a time or two. You?”

“Oh no! It’s my first time in New York actually. I saw this All-Night Exhibition on a paper on the subway and thought, why not? I’ve never been to a gallery before.”

“Really? Where are you from?”

“Tennessee. My plane landed this morning.”

“Oh, so visiting?”

“Yes, I’m walking my legs out since noon.”  She says, chuckling.

“Aren’t you tired? I think planes are exhausting.”

“Oh, no. I travel a lot and I don’t have time to listen to my body being tired when there’s so much to see. I basically function on caffeine right now.”

She laughs, a clear, happy sound that does not sound like New York at all. I laugh with her.

“Where do you sleep tonight?” I then ask.

“Oh, I just left the hotel I booked, back up a bit on the street. I had to get ready for an exhibition!”

She winks at me, showing her skirt and high heels. I’m wearing a jean and one of my favorite knitted tee-shirts. She has a light jean jacket on her shoulder, her messy blonde bob barely touching the fabric.

“I’m not sure there’s a dress code,” I say.

“No, there isn’t, I checked. I just wanted to look nice.”

Her very long thin leg put me in my pace, as I try to follow her. I’ve always been very tall. Always the tallest friend of the group, the annoying person that hid half the screen of the cinema to the person behind me, having trouble getting inside low cars, only wearing heels if I wanted to look like a giraffe… But she’s as tall as me and her step are making me question everything. I’m the kind of person to walk really fast because of my heights, so I learned to be slower, tinier. She doesn’t give a shit. She just walks straight ahead, a foot taller than everyone without trying to crouch of hide.

“You look nice,” I reassure her.

She looks at me, smiling, when she suddenly stops.

“Oh, here it is!”

She stops in front of the gallery already full of people. Shit. I should have sent a message ahead. We enter side by side, and I let her buy her place, then present myself at the desk. He looks at me suspiciously, before checking his system and seeing I’m indeed one of the artist. Then he lets me go through. To my surprise, the girl is still waiting for me.

“I didn’t catch your, name.” I ask her when I join her.

“Tee. Nice to meet you.”

“Midnights.” I shake her raised hand between us. “It’s really your name?”

“No, my name is too long. Everyone calls me Tee. Please don’t make a joke with coffee, because it does gets old.”

I laugh, forgetting one second what I’m doing here.

“What, no. I wouldn’t stood so low. I’m much more fun than that. You want to walk around together?”

“With pleasure.”

She hands me her arm and I take it, because why not. We’re just strangers but she’s very funny and I just feel attracted by her like a magnet. Her confidence, her easy-going, her casualness…

I fear Mr Anderson, the owner, will come and find me to reprimand my delay, but I must not be that important because no one comes to bother us. We go around the room, the different walls and hallway full of paintings. There is also a part for photos.

“So what have you visited of new York, so far?”

“Oh, you know, the most touristic parts. Time square, Brooklyn, central park. I’m just the most basic kind of tourist, really.”

“How long are you staying?”

She seems surprised by the question.

“Hum, I don’t know yet. I kind of flee my home. Bad break up.”

She puts on a sad smile but go back to watching the paintings. We walk in comfortable silence, getting offered a glass of champagne by a waiter. And from far away I see my three paintings, getting closer as we make our way through the people. She has a little remark for each painting, about the light, or the feeling, or the beauty of them. Until we get to mine. I find myself apprehended her opinion on it.

She stares, silent. I don’t dare ask her anything, and the few glasses of alcohol blend everything else together.

“It’s beautiful,” she says. “Have you seen those? There so… true!”

She approaches the paintings and I let out the breath I was holding.

“Yeah… Yeah, they are.”

“It’s realistic and at the same time… ethereal.”

I smile despite myself. I tried to capture emotion through the body, not the face, on those. It’s everyday scenes, like lying down on a couch after a night out and the desperation of a never-ending situation-ship, or crying in the bath drinking wine, or bumping into someone and feeling the rush of adrenaline of a new crush.

“This one might be my favorite of all the one I’ve seen so far.” She points to the couch one. The girl has a red dress coming up her thighs, and her hand placement is a bit tipsy. The painting cuts at half her face.

“Yeah, I like it too.” I answer.

“Oh Midnights!”

I hear my name and the voice froze my back. I turn around slowly like the fact that I don’t see her might make her go away.

But it is my dear mother, marching straight to me, that I see.

Chapter Text

1989

But if I’m all dressed up

They might as well be looking at us

And if they call me a slut

You know it might be worth it for once

And if I’m gonna be drunk

I’m might as well be drunk in love.

Wednesday 8^th may

Midnights took me around the gallery like she knew it by heart. She was not very talkative but listened to everything I had to say about all the paintings and the sculptures. Some better than others. I was trying to start a conversation about the light, the technique, the feeling they gave, and she was more of a passive admirer, not answering with her own opinion. But she hadn’t told me to shut up, so I kept going.

Three paintings caught my attention, but I felt ridiculous because she didn’t seem to get the same feeling as me. She just watched them, when I literally lost my breath in front of them. One was a girl bumping her wine into another one, her white shirt stained. And it was like you could hear the story, of a crush forming between them. The second painting was even more powerful. A girl crying in her bath, head in her knees, a glass of wine in her hands. It felt like a reflection of my own life, and probably every girl ever. And the last one, nothing was telling you anything about this girl’s life except her body language. She was half lying down on a sofa, the way you do when you get home drunk, but her body was tense with the feeling of desperation from a disappointing relationship. I’ve been that girl too. I’ve been all those girls. Those paintings had just hit different.

She basically just said to like them, when a woman came by her, claiming to be her mother. And as I’m nothing to this girl, I left politely, to watch the rest of the paintings. When I came back to those three paintings, Midnights was nowhere to be found, and I got lost again in them, in how much power they held. How the feeling just bled from the paintings to my heart. It became almost painful, so I decided to leave, a bit sad that I had no idea how to reach Midnights again.

I left, almost bumping on a motorcycle parked right outside, and reached on easy steps my creepy hotel. But in the bar across the street, I spotted a familiar face drinking alone by the bar.

So, with the champagne already making my heart light, I crossed the road and got in.

“Hi, Harry.”

He jerks up, startled.

“Oh my god. Tee!”

I sit next to him, his face lightening up.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was walking back to my room when I spotted you here. Rough day?” I ask pointing to the glass on the counter.

It’s almost midnight, so he must have been here for a long time.

“Yeah… yeah, exactly. Doesn’t get more fun.”

“Well, I can’t wait to get to your observation deck with you. What are you drinking?”

“Whisky.”

I make a sign to the bartender to make two more.

“You drink that?” he asks, surprised, passing a hand through his hair.

“I drink pretty much anything.”

He laughs.

“So, how was this day shitty?”

He shakes his head.

“Remember how I told you I was only there a week? My boss say they will open the department here and need someone to handle it. He’s promoting me here for three months.”

“Ouch. You have a family where you were?”

He shakes his hand slowly, already tipsy.

“No, just my parents. But New York isn’t my first choice. Definitely not.”

“Have you had some trauma here? You seem to hate New York so much for nothing!”

“No, it’s just… I don’t know. Too crowded?”

He doesn’t seem convinced by his reason.

“I’m sure you could love it, with some effort. I’ve been wanting to come here since I was a little girl. And it’s because it’s crowded that it’s amazing. Have you done time square at night?”

“Four times, actually.”

“And you don’t think it’s fun?”

“It’s just light and sounds. There’s nothing inside, it’s like… Vegas.”

“You ever been there?”

He looks at me sheepishly, then mumble “No…”

“You didn’t learn to like New York! The city does have a soul, I swear.”

“I think the soul you see in New York is the mirror of your own, Tee.”

I laugh at that.

“Okay, Mister philosopher. Then I understand why you think it’s empty.”

It takes him a second to understand, but then he sighs.

“Okay, maybe you’re right.”

“I’m always right.” I say, taking my drink and sipping it.

He looks at his drink, but then he has spasm as if he is about to puke.

“I don’t think I should drink that.”

I catch his shoulder to steady him.

“Yeah, definitively no. Come on, let’s get you back to your room.”

I put the jacket that was on the stool on his shoulder and help his half-asleep body out of the bar, across the street and after a few senseless conversations he tells me what his room number is. When we get there, he leans against the wall to find his card.

“Thank you, tee. Sorry about all… that.”

“It’s okay.” I smile. “I’m happy you’re home safe.”

He grimaces at that.

“Eurgh.”

“Sorry. Not home.”

“It’s okay. Good night.”

“Good night.”

He manages to open the door and make his way in, leaving me alone.

I kind of debate going to bed, but I’m not tired and I still have my drink I ask the bartender to keep for me. So, I go back down, to finish the drink. You never know what occasion can present themselves if you sleep through them.

And what an occasion.

I step out of the hotel to the empty street, only to find a very confused Midnights, fur jacket on her shoulder, looking around, until she spots me.

The smile at my lips gets wide.

“You again? What are you doing here?” I ask.

She seems at a loss of words.

“I.. hum… I wanted…”

I delight in her cute embarrassment, but don’t let her suffer too much by asking:

“Wanna have a drink? I have one to end in this bar.”

She stops, staring a bit tipsily.

“Yes. I would love that.”

I smile and offer my arm to this stranger for the second time in one night.

She sits where Harry was a few minutes before, and when he sees me, the bartender stops cleaning the glass. She takes the one Harry didn’t drink.

“How was it with your mother?” I ask.

She sighs dramatically, fidgeting with the hem of the glass.

“Terribly.”

“I was looking for you, actually.” I say, sipping the drink. “Couldn’t find you.”

“Really?” Her eyes shot up to mine, full of hope or something.

“Yes.” I say, chuckling.

I think she is more than tipsy. I don’t know how many glasses of champagne she’s had back there.

“I… I thought I might have bored you.”

“Oh come on! I love people listening to me.”

She laughs, snortingly.

“Then I much happy to listen.

I smile, raising my glass to offer a clink.

“So,” I ask after taking a sip from my drink. “Do you want to talk about your mother?”

She makes the same adorable noise of snorting, but this time in disdain.

“Definitively not. She just cut me off.”

“Cut you off?” I’m surprised.

“Yeah, decided to stop with the money she sent me.”

“You’re… dependent of your parents?” I dare ask, without wanting to seem too judging. “How old are you?”

“I’m… oh my god, it’s pathetic. I’m 29. It sounds terrible, now that you say it.”

“Why would you need your parents’ money?” I ask, geniounly curious.

“I… My job doesn’t pay much for now.”

None do these days.

“What do you do?”

I drink a bit, watching her watch me. She seems lost in her own thoughts.

“I… I paint.”

An artist, then. I swear I could have guessed that.

“Oh! That’s why you love art? Do you have any pictures?”

“No, not on me, sorry. My mother doesn’t think it’s very noble.”

“Do you want to change the subject?” I offer, because she seems quite uncomfortable.

“Yes. How about we order something actually enjoyable?”

She points to Harry’s whisky glass she’s been sipping.

“Cocktail, you mean? You’re very fancy for someone without money.”

She laughs, throwing her head back, her face lighting up from the nightly darkness she’s been boring all evening. It just makes me see her face even more. How her makeup is like stars in the sky, her skin a full moon, her eyes the deep of the milky way, her hair falling like rain on her shoulder…

“Okay fair enough. But this is disgusting.” She says, the lights dancing on her arms as she waves tipsily at the glasses.

“Fine. It’s on me.”

I ask for two Sex on the Beach, hoping not to sound too desperate.

“So,” she then asks. “How do you look like New York so far?” She puts her head on her hand with her elbow resting on the side of the counter, watching me with a tilted head.

“A whole lot better since tonight,” I say, taking a sip from my glass. I do flirt for a living, after all.

There’s light music in the bar, and a few chatter here and there, and with the alcohol slowly making its way up my system, little details of our surroundings seem to disappear. Like the people. Of the other tables. Or the time.

“What is your favorite part?” She says, completely ignoring my sign.

“I liked Central Park if I’m being honest. I tried the zoo, but it was kind of depressing, though. But the vibe is cool.”

“Yeah, I don’t really go there.” She admits, standing back up straight.

“Really? What’s your favorite part?”

She thinks about it, eyes closed, finger tracing the hem of the glass.

“My old college dorm, I guess,”

I start laughing. “Really? Whoa, that’s… That feels true.”

“Yeah, I don’t really understand the hype around New York. I mean it’s loud. But I have pretty good memories in that dorm. And it’s away from my parents, that’s why I stay. Mostly.”

“What did you study? Art?”

She shakes her head, sipping her cocktail.

“Nah, law, actually. I worked at a law firm, before.”

“You’re a lawyer?” I ask, surprised. I didn’t see her as a lawyer. Painter suits her more.

“No, never got there. Just like an assistant sort of thing. I quit, but it did pay well.”

“So, you have some money? Now that your parents aren’t helping you?

She snorts in disdain once more.

“I thought we changed the subject.”

Always saying the wrong things, I blame myself.  “Yeah, sorry. So law? And why did you stop?”

She seems upset by the question, but answers anyway.

“I took it to make my parents happy to be honest. It was kind of fun, initially, but got boring really quick. And I’ve always painted, so that seemed more like something I wanted to do with my life.”

A passion. That’s what I lack, I think. Running here to New York, it’s just avoiding all the things I don’t want to think about. But I guess I can allow myself a week without the future.

“Whoa. I wish I had something like that myself.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“I… I’m just out of college, actually. I waited tables all my years there and lived with my parents, so I have a buttload of money to travel. I’m like… taking the year off, to see what I’ll do. You know?”

“Like you were in college… this year?”

I smile at her, because her confusion is just too fun.

“Yeah, why?”

Her eyes widen.

“How old are you?!” She exclaims.

I laugh. Didn’t she realize we’re 6 years apart?

“23, why?”

“You’re… oh my god.”

She dramatically puts her head on the table.

“You seem shocked. I don’t look that much older.”

“You… Never mind. You finished college this year?”

“Yeah, I’m waiting to know if I passed. I should get an email soon.”

“What did you study?”

“History.”

“Fascinating.”

“I know.”

I think she’s being sarcastic, but I did like my history studies. Then I change the subject because I’d given her enough time.

“So, are you going to tell me exactly how you found me?” I ask.

I can see the panic in her eyes.

“I…”

“Come on, I just want to know what kind of mastermind you must be to have found me.”

She takes a second but snaps back into a more flirty energy:

“That is stating that I was looking for you.”

“Weren’t you?”

She swallows, but say guiltily: “Maybe, yes.”

“So, how did you do it?”

“Like you said, I’m a mastermind. I can’t tell you all my techniques.”

I look at her in silence, trying to make her say the words. Until I replay all our conversations and I did tell her that my hotel was down the street.

“Nothing to do with the fact that I told you where my hotel was?”

“Nah,” she says, eyes glinting. “Just fate.”

We take a brief break, just watching each other. Then I sigh. This girl is so amazing.

“I’m sure your mother’s wrong.” I say, not sure it’s the right thing to say, but I’m starting to be drunk so who cares? And she probably needs to hear it. “You have everything you need to become a renowned painter.”

“You haven’t even seen my paintings.”

“I just know it. Based on your vibe. You seem like a very talented person.”

“Do I?”

“Yes,” I say, trying to make as much conviction as I can. “Very much.”

She looks away, guiltily.

“I think I keep trying to prove to her that I have something to do here. But the more I think about it, the more I realize it’s me, I’m really trying to prove something to.”

“I thought you didn’t like New York?”

“It’s not that. I have my best friends here. I love the… memories I made here. I’m not a fan of the town. That’s it.”

“You’re the second person to tell me that today.” I say, thinking about Harry. He’s probably asleep right now.

“Really? One day in New York and already, you have tons of friends?”

“One. Other than you. A guy, from the hotel. He hates New York. I found him here tonight, actually. I’ve put him to bed minutes before I found you.”

“Really?”

God, what am I doing? She probably doesn’t care about that.

“Yeah. He was sad and wasted.” I state.

She chuckles.

“Sounds like someone I know.”

“Who?” I ask, surprised.

“Me… I guess. I used to.”

“You’re sad?”

“Not right now. But my parents make me sad.”

Sounds like someone I know.

“My boyfriend makes me sad,” I admit.

She moves in her chair, making the wooden floor wince.

“Ex-boyfriend, actually,” I add. “God, that’s weird.”

“Why?”

“We’ve been together since my second year at uni. I mean… If you don’t count the countless breaks. He did it once more and I called it off for good. He cheated on me, this time, though.”

You’re a coward, Tee.

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

“That’s kind of why I rushed my stay here. He said I’m a coward.”

“You’re the coward? He cheated on you and then called you a coward. Who’s rejecting the fault?”

It’s easier to see it like this, yes.

“Yeah, I guess.”

My phone vibrates, so I take it to see. It could be Calvin, or my result or…

“Your uni results?”

I read the mail. There’s a date for the audience. Oh my god, they sent me a date. The trial is finally moving on.

“No… It’s… nothing.”

I don’t want to worry her with this. It’s my burden, my fight.

“Want to have another one?” she asks, showing her empty glass.

Exactly what I was thinking.

“Yes, definitively.”

It takes two more drinks to start making fun of men. I tell her all the shitty things Calvin did to me. Then she explains how much of a loser her current situationship is. Then we laugh, holding our bellies because we can barely stand on the stools.

Then she makes very impressive imitations of the people still in the bar for me to guess, and I’m not sure we’re being very subtle about it because eventually, people start to leave glancing irritated looks at us. But we can’t stop laughing.

We drink two more drinks then, before we both start crying about our lives. I’m not even sure what I talk to her about, and I’m incapable of understanding two of her words, but it’s good to cry together. Then she goes to the bathroom and when she comes back, she tells me she just puked. Which I can smell, I tell her, and we burst out laughing.

When the sun is coming back up and the bar closes, only us two are left.

“It’s time to go, Mid. Come on.”

“Oh come oooooon…”

“The sun is here!” I exclaim, forcing her out of her seat, before I put the fur jacket on her shoulder.

“That was so much fun!” She states, barely standing on her two feet as I get her outside. “You’re a lot of fun, Tee.”

“I know. You’re a lot of fun too, babe.”

She doesn’t answer, acting as if she didn’t understand, but I can see her blush. It’s been so much fun, flirting with this almost 30-year-old and watching her decompose herself in embarrassment. I’ve done it all night.

When we’re on the street, I make her walk a bit up the street, to find a main street, where I can catch a taxi. The walk there results in lots and lots of whistling in my intention. I’m still in my skirts, my stilettos being in my hand because I’m wasted as well. Just a bit less than her.

“I can go home alone, don’t worry.” She says.

“Yeah, of course. I’m just making sure it does happen.”

I spot an empty taxi, that I make stop.

“What’s your address?” I ask, but she doesn’t even look at me. “Mid, your address?”

“Oh! Right.”

She puts her head in the driver's window and tells him the address. Then she extracts herself and I put her in the back, apologizing to the driver.

“Can you wait a minute?” I ask him.

“It’ll cost her.”

I shake my shoulder.

“Mid, give me your phone.” I ask, halfway through the car door.

She searches for it, then hands it without even looking, eyes outside.

I call my number with it, so that she has it, and then put my contact in with “call me whenever you want to get wasted” as the contact’s name.

“Okay, here. Go home safe, girl.”

“You too” she yawns sleepily.

I close the door and the taxi leaves.

I make my way, my shoes still in my hands, to my room. I fall asleep on the elevator, and it’s the doors opening that wakes me up. I briefly pass before a mirror, realizing how much crazy I look, with my makeup smudged, the circles beneath my eyes, and my hair completely knotted.

I don’t really care. I hit the mattress, and tired to my bones, my legs barely holding me up.

And I fall asleep, her laugh still echoing in my mind.

Chapter Text

Debut

Drew looks at me

I fake a smile, so he won't see

What I want and I need

And everything that we should be

I'll bet she's beautiful

That girl he talks about

And she's got everything

That I have to live without

He's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar

The only thing that keeps me wishing on a wishing star

He's the song in the car I keep singing

Don't know why I do

Wednesday 8^th may

Invite him over, she said. If he rejects you, you’ll never have to see him again, she said.

It did sound like a good plan back at Rep’s apartment. Now, here, in the cafeteria hiding behind my water bottle, it does not sound good at all. It only sounds terrifying.

“Is she gonna stare like that for the rest of the day?” Lessie asks, eating her own plate studying me from the other side of the table.

“I don’t know, I think she’s broken” Speak says watching me as carefully.

I don’t care about their mockery. I should toughen up and ask him. It’s lunch break, he has nothing else to do, he is casually eating with his friends, and it’s not like I never talked to him. I mean, we’re friends… sort of. Study buddies is more like it. Which is exactly why I should just go and offer him my study help.

“You should at least eat something if you’re just going to stare from afar.” Lessie insists. “Maybe it’ll give you the energy you need to actually go to him.”

“At least Jessica isn’t with him.” Speak encourages me as well.

I sigh deeply, falling back in my chair.

“I don’t know…”

“Eat.” Lessie orders.

I glance up at her and oblige because she is terrifying when she gives such orders.

I really should just get up and talk to him, but the deep fear of humiliation roots me to my chair, as I put the food in my mouth.

“You know nothing will happen if you don’t actually speak with him.” Remarks Speak, leaning towards me.

“Yeah, I know, thanks.” I answer, irritated.

“Oh, he’s getting up!” exclaim Lessie. “Come on, it’s now or never!”

I look back toward him. Still laughing with his friends, he is heading to the bin to clear his tray away, which is behind us. I crouch a bit deeper inside the chair, as each of his steps gets him closer to us.

I look at my plate on purpose but am vividly aware of his presence. Especially when he stops at our table.

“Hi Debut! Hi girls.”

“Hi Drew,” Lessie answers, before kicking me beneath the table.

“Hi Drew,” I say, looking up at him, and massaging my leg.

“You know there’s this big assignment coming up next week…”

I look at Lessie, that gives me eyes meaning Ask him or I will.

“Yeah, do you…” I stand up to be at his level. “Do you want to… revise? Together?”

“Yeah, totally. That’s why I wanted to ask you.”

Lessie clears her throat loudly.

I shot her a dark glance, then go back to Drew.

“Do you want to come to mine? It’ll be quieter than the library and at least it doesn’t close at 6.”

“Look at that!” suddenly exclaims an irritating voice behind me. “Debut asking Drew out. Did everyone hear that?”

“Stay out of it!” Snap Fearless, getting up as well, hands slamming the table.

Jessica gets closer not caring at all.

“It’s true then?” She asks, ignoring Lessie. “All those revision sessions, it’s because you have a crush on him, right?”

“Shut. Up. Jessica!” shouts Fearless even louder.

Everyone in the cafeteria stops, looking at us. Not a single sound is made except for Jessica’s words, digging holes in my bones to fill them with dread.

“Little Debut here fancies Drew! How sweet. But he is not in your league, honey.”

“I swear I’m gonna hit you.”

Fearless places herself before me, but tears are already pricking my eyes.

“Calm your hound dog, Deb. Anyway, Drew is definitively not interested in a girl like you.”

“Shut up!” Fearless yells.

Before she can hit me again with her words, I take my bag and run toward the exit.

“Deb!” I hear three voices yell at the same time.

But I don’t care and keep running, out of the cafeteria, then into the girls’ toilets.

“Deb!”

I lock myself in a stall and fall on the toilet, crying like a baby.

“Deb!” Lessie and Speak exclaims at the same time, banging on the door.

“Leave me alone!”

“No! I’m going to climb up the stall if I have to, trust me. You’re not going to let this bitch make you cry, come on.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Fine.”

I hear her grab the top of the stall and the door rumble as she put her foot on the handle.

“Ok, ok stop!” I shout, getting up to open the door.

She can be so intense, sometimes.

As soon as it clicks open, she almost rips it out and pulls me in her arms.

“Come on. We’ll get back at her.”

“She just said everyone…” I start, chocking on the words, unable to say out loud the fact that everyone knows. “Is it that obvious?” I ask, looking at Speak behind Lessie’s shoulder.

She doesn’t answer right away. I push against Lessie.

“Really?” I ask looking in her wise eyes.

“You’re not being really subtle about it, girl. But men are blind. Jessica didn’t had to out you like that.”

“He’s never going to speak with me again, now. I don’t think his friends even knew about the revision... I’m so stupid…”

“Stop this nonsense!” Lessie exclaims. “If he backs away from his future because someone said you had a crush on him, he doesn’t deserve you. He won’t believe her if he is smart, and he will ask for your help again.”

“But he is mad about her!”

“Then he is already stupid!” she screams.

It shakes me, how right she is. But this small part of me doesn’t believe it.

Obviously, the timing couldn’t get more perfect when the bell ring, announcing lunch time being over, and the next class starting.

“Oh my god! I can’t go to class.”

“Of course you can, Deb. Come on.”

Lessie takes my hand and forces me out of the toilets.

“We’ll make sure they don’t talk to you, Deb.” Speak reassures me.

“You can take my place at the back; the teacher won’t even notice.”

“Okay.” I say, wiping my nose.

“Now we need a plan. We need revenge.”

“I look like I cried.” I say, passing before my reflection in a window.

“Because you just did.”

I sigh. She is so down to earth, sometimes.

“We could make her make a fool of herself at lunch time.” Suggest Speak Now.

“Yes, but how?” ask Lessie.

“Well, I think it is our mission for the next boring hour.”

We reach the math classroom, but as I walk to Fearless’ seat my head is not in the place to find revenge on Jessica. I sit down, not looking up if either one of them is already there, and keep my eyes on my textbook. Until the distant voice of the teacher fills the class and all I can do is stare at is the empty pages I’m supposed to fill with his speech.

She’s got everything that I have to live without.

The words pop in my head, thinking about Jessica, and her perfect face, and friend group, and breast. I write it down, and before I know it, I’m spilling about how that boy makes me cry but my heart still clings to the tiny bit of attention he gives me. How I fake my smiles, knowing he only talks about that girl. How I don’t want him to know that I want him because he won’t want me back.

I don’t pay attention to class for a second. But because I write down stuff the teacher doesn’t ask anything. At the end of the hour, my paper is filled with half completed lyrics.

I fold it and hide it in my pocket, and barely listen to Lessie and Speak debating how to make a fool of Jessica, as we walk to next class.

°°°

I ignored Jessica or Drew all day after that. Drew did try to come and talk to me. At least, I think. Once just after the second period of the afternoon, which I manage to escape by going to the toilet and getting just about late at third period. And then when the day was over. The moment I saw Drew walking toward us three, I ran to the bus and managed to avoid him, the bus leaving before he could reach it.

I don’t tell Rep right away when I’m home. She’s in her room, writing music. I don’t want to burden her with mine. But I go to my room, take the guitar she offered me at Christmas, and start writing and singing arrangements with the lyrics I pulled from my pocket. When I get bored and the feeling is out in my guitar, I go to watch my favorite show on the TV, to think about someone else disastrous love life. At some point someone’s knocking on the door and, because Rep isn’t answering I go. Turns out it is just Midnight, Rep’s best friends. She often comes by.

The three of us end up in the living room, and when Rep asks me about my day, I start crying, explaining everything. Mid takes me in her arms, holding me tight, until the conversation switch to the reason of her visit: her exhibition.

“Oh my god!” I exclaim, because she already told me about it a few weeks ago. “I forgot about that! It’s so cool, you have your own exhibition!”

“Well, not my own.” Midnight answers, calming my excitation. “A few of my paintings are exposed and I’m not the only artist. But there might be some gallery owners that could be interested.”

“I’m sure they’ll see how good of a painter you are,” Rep says, giving her best friend a drink. “Are your parents going to be there?”

“No, thank god, no.” Mid answer with relief.

I frown.

“You don’t want them there?”  I ask.

She laughs, then shake her head. “No. They don’t think it’s a smart way of living.”

Too close to a situation of mine.

“My parents are annoying me on that as well.” I say, sighing.  “She’s harassing me with text to know if I applied to colleges. I kind of resent going there this weekend.”

“It’s okay not to know what you want to do in life, Deb, I swear,” Rep repeats for the hundredth time, so much it doesn’t feel like real word anymore. “And if you find something near here, you’ll always have a room in this house.”

I wish I could. Staying here with Rep is the only think that would make sense in the future. College doesn’t. Mom and dad don’t. Working either. I don’t know what I want, and I feel like I’m drowning in everything my teacher and parents are telling me to do and slowly, the water will submerge me. In three weeks, when school ends. Nothing makes sense, nothing feels right, but here with Rep.

“I don’t think mom wants me far away from her again.” I say tightly, trying to smile.

I can see disappointment in Rep’s eyes. I shouldn’t have said that.

“I need to go” Suddenly exclaim Midnights. “With the traffic I want to get there early.”

“Right.” Rep gets up and leads her to the hallway. “We’ll pass by. See you later.”

“If you can’t because she has school, I would totally understand…” Mid says, looking at me.

They hug.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll see if she wants to sleep early, she’ll stay here. See ya!” Rep says.

“Bye Mid. See ya!” I shout, before starting my show again.

Rep waits a bit by the door, then comes back to the living room.

“You know you can stay here if you want.”

“I know.” I smile. But for what?

“But you don’t want to?”

She sits in front of me, and I jump to dismiss that thought:

“What? Of course I do! It’s just… mom you know. I’m their only child. They worry a lot. But I’ll reassure them this weekend. If I can stay here next year, I’ll love it. But I just… don’t know what I’ll do.”

“Drew really is an ass, if he didn’t say anything.” She state chez gong the subject.

“I know.” I sigh, but I wish I did knew it better. It would be easier to ignore him then.

“Can I watch my show, now?”

Rep chuckles.

“Yes. I’ll make dinner. You’ll get ready for Midnight exhibition afterward.”

“Of course!”

She cooks something I could have honestly made myself better, but I know she likes to cook me things, so I eat with delight the medium meal.

“We’ll take Bertha.” She announces when I’m eating the last of my dessert.

“Oh my god! Yes!”

I love riding Bertha. It makes me look cool. Much cooler than Jessica, I’m sure. She offered to take me to school tomorrow, so I hope I can get there with the motorcycle. Jessica won’t have much to say, then.

I jump from my seat to go take the green helmet she offered me a while ago, and all the clothing she forces me to wear to stay safe on the engine. I feel like a pilot when we get down, then she helps me to put the helmet on and we both climb on Bertha’s back.

The ride there is amazing, with the night air on my hair, my arm tightly locked on Rep’s waist. It takes about 20 minutes to get there, and as usual Rep parks her bike where she shouldn’t.

Taking off her helmet and her jacket, she put them in her little trunk, taking mine as well, and what doesn’t go in, she put in the bag I carried. Then she reaches in her pocket but stop.

“You can go in, Mid will find you; I’ll be right there.”

“I can stay with you while you smoke.”

She hesitates for a second, really tug between accepting and refusing.

“I don’t want you to take that habit.”

“It’s okay, I know.”

She exhales but take her pack out and smoke faster than I’ve ever seen her. She really wants to take care of me, and it makes me love her even more.

“Okay let’s go” she says three minutes later.

At the front desk she pays the tickets and ask if they can guard the bag with our stuff in it, which they do. Then we enter, looking for her friend.

The paintings are all beautiful. There’s sculpture as well. Everyone seems to be an expert, analyzing each painting, and quietly discussing their meanings.

We walk around the relatively small gallery, until Rep stops dead in her track, just before I can ask her if she knows which paintings are Mid’s.

“Shit.” She says, looking in front of her. “Shit, don’t say shit.” She adds, looking at me. “Come on.”

When I look where she leads me, I see Midnights with a woman that looks disturbingly like her.

“Is that… But I thought…” I stumble.

“Yeah, me too. Hi Mid!” She adds louder.

We reach the two women as she says it, Rep reaching to greet Midnight even though she saw her an hour ago.

“Rep! Deb, you made it!”

“Reputation.” The woman who can only be her mother greets Rep in a cold voice. “What a delight. I see you two are still friends.”

She sounds desperately fake.

“Definitively, yes.” Mid answer, getting a little closer to Rep.

“Your entourage hasn’t gotten better, then.”

“Ma’am, with all your respect, if you only came to trash about your very hardworking daughter’s life you may as well leave now. She doesn’t want you here.”

“Rep…” Midnights warns her.

“Don’t you talk to me like that about my daughter.” The woman snaps back. “She can talk for herself. I want her to have a respectful life, not something like…”

“Like what? Mine?”

“Exactly like yours.”

“Mom!” exclaims Mid.

Her mother turns to her.

“You deserve more, baby. And I don’t want you to stay with… You know. You deserve a good life, with a good husband and a good job.”

“So you didn’t came here to try and understand me? Just for one of your endless talk to get me home.”

“I did try to understand you and I don’t. I want you home, darling. You’re becoming… I mean look at you!”

We all look at her clothes, which are not all that chocking.

“What?”

“You look like… you look like her.” She whispers, pointing to Rep without looking at her.

“A very fashionable person, I presume.” Rep provokes her, because she always does.

“A dyke.”

Rep looks very satisfied to have make her say the word, but Midnights turns red with anger.

“Get out. Go back home and never come back. I don’t want to speak with you, or see you again, mom.”

Her mouth drops open.

“Darling I just want…”

“Don’t force me to make a scene!” she exclaims.

She sneers at us, then wipe her hair back.

“Fine. You can say goodbye for the money your father sends you. And don’t come home crying when you realize how much of a mistake you made.”

And with that, she leaves us three.

Mid looks on the verge of crying when she looks at us.

“I’m so sorry, Rep.”

“It’s okay, I get called much worse. Sorry you have a shitty mom.”

She sniffs the pain away, and shakes her head, her eyes miraculously drying up the tears that had been there seconds ago. I’m impressed. I wish I could do that.

“Did you had a chance to look around?” She then asks.

“Yes, but I don’t think I’ve seen yours.”

She smiles politely and takes us there. It’s three big paintings of girls. They all seem so grown up, all so adult, it makes me uncomfortable. I wish I could be those girls, sad about something other than the lake of sense in my life. I wish I had something real to be sad about. A life to be sad about.

Midnights seems on edge the whole time, and eventually some people come and talk to her. When midnight comes around, she waves us goodbye because Rep’s wants to get me home.

“You should come by tomorrow.”

“Yeah, maybe. I’ll see. Bye.”

Then she turns to me.

“I hope it gets better at school.”

“Thank you.”

I smile, tired, and then follow Rep outside, before putting on the bike clothes.

“Her mom is such a bitch. Don’t repeat that word.”

“You’re right. At least my parents aren’t like that. If only I had a path.”

“You’ll find it, Deb. I know it.”

She takes my cheek in her hands, smiling sadly.

“Now let’s get home, it’s a school night.”

“You’ll take me tomorrow, then? With Bertha.”

She laughs as I climb on the back, putting the green helmet on.

“If it makes you happy.”

“It makes me cool.”

“You’re already super cool, Deb.”

She slides the helmet windshield down and climb as well.

I wish she was right.

Chapter Text

Lover

I think he knows

His hands around a cold glass

Make me wanna know that body like it’s mine

He got that boyish look that I like in a man

I am an architect I’m drawing up the plans

It’s like I’m seventeen, nobody understands

No one understands

Wednesday 8^th may

When I woke up the next morning Joe was indeed gone. I kind of heard him leave, last night, but somewhere in my dream he was there, and the bed feels way too cold when I wake up.

I have a text from my mom.

I’ll come to yours at six.

I end my shift at six, mom.

It’s okay, I have the keys.

I sigh. I can’t tell if giving her the keys to my apartment was a huge mistake or the best decision of my life. I suspect her to come and clean my apartment from time to time, but she never admitted to it.

She’ll probably cook dinner for me.

I’m still in my pajamas in my sofa when I get another text.

Wanna grab lunch together, beauty?

It’s Joe. I smile, because I usually am the one proposing stuff and sending the first text.

That would be awesome, I’ll come to your office.

Great, see ya then!

Now I have something to get ready for, I guess. When I work on the afternoon I don’t do much during the morning. I don’t even dress up before eleven.

His office is on the other part of town, down in the Lower East Side. I feel quite tired today, but I’ve seen worse days, caused by the radiotherapy. So, when it’s time, I put on my shoes and decide the warm weather will be beneficial. And my next appointment is tomorrow, so I’ll definitively be more tired tomorrow. I should make the best of those days I’m not that tired.

I take the subway, briefly thinking about that girl I stained. I hope she got her shirt back. She seemed so unbothered, but I suspect she was just being a people pleaser. Which I know a lot about.

“Hi beauty!” Joe greets me when he gets down from his office to meet me. “How are you?”

“Amazing.” I lie, taking his arm.

“Where do you want to eat, sweetie?”

“Anywhere really.”

He sighs.

“What?” I ask, looking up as we make our way to his car.

“It’s annoying when you do that. Just tell me where you want to eat!”

I frown. It’s already starting.

“I just don’t know, Joe. I don’t care as long as I spend time with you.”

He drops my arm and opens his car door.

“Well, I guess we’ll just go to the same place we always go.”

“Fine by me.” I say, a bit annoyed, as I sit in the passenger seat.

We ride in silence to the little Thai restaurant. Inside, we barely speak until the waitress comes to take our orders. When she leaves, I turn to him.

“There’s an old projection at the drive-in tomorrow night. Do you want…”

“I have a work thing tomorrow night.”

“Oh…” I say disappointed.

“Why don’t you ask Folklore?”

“She’s at her mother’s until Monday.”

“Ah. That’s suck.”

“Yeah. Not the only thing that suck, actually.”

He frowns, reaching to take my hand on the table.

“What are you talking about?”

“My cancer, Joe.”

His face brows shot up in realization.

“Oh right. Sorry. But yesterday you said…”

“It’s supposed to be more aggressive; you know? I just… I don’t know how I’ll react to this. And if I need chemo…”

“Come on, the doctor said you didn’t need it!”

“Yet.”

I look down at the paper they put underneath your plate in cheap restaurant. There’s the menu written on it.

“You’re going to be okay, Love.”

“I’m scared.”

He looks out of his means; shaking is hands and trying to get closer to me.

“I’m so sorry, but… I wish I could come with you and stay at yours but with my work, I…”

“No, it’s okay. Sorry, let’s just talk about something else. This is too depressing.”

“Okay.”

“Let’s just enjoy this meal, right?”

“Right.”

He thinks for a second, then comes back to me.

“My work is organizing a party at a club next week. We can bring plus one and I would be delighted if you came with me.”

I frown. A party? At a club?

“I… I might be too tired.”

“If you are it’s okay, you don’t have to come. But if you’re okay will you come?”

Well, a bit of a party doesn’t sound too bad, to be honest.

“Okay, yeah. But will I have to spend the evening with a bunch of old people trying to sell stuff for each other? Will you work?”

“Hum, yeah I might. But I can arrange for you to bring a friend if you want. So you’re not too lonely.”

I don’t think it’s Lorie’s thing to go clubbing.

“Okay, I’ll see. Thanks.”

“Thank you. Going clubbing with my coworkers sounds like hell. But having you here…”

I smile, because he makes my stupid heart race.

“Does that mean… Are you officially presenting me to your coworkers as your girlfriend?”

Then he does this thing he always does when I pronounce the word girlfriend. He closes back up.

“Love, you know I like you and all but…”

I sigh, annoyed.

“So, you want me to come by your side with your coworkers but as what? Your sex friend? Your trophy?”

“It’s just all… too much, you know? I mean we talked about that!”

The waitress comes back with our plates, turning the tension down a little bit. When she’s gone and we can start to eat, he adds a bit more quietly “I mean, I like what we have right now. Why would you want to ruin it?”

Because I love you, I want to scream. Not that it’s true. I mean, I don’t think so. But I think one day I’ll wake up and realize it is. But I want to say it, just to make him think and realize that he means a lot to me. That this is not enough for me.

I don’t scream it. Because he will run away, if I do.

But if he wanted me the way I want him, he won’t even question the “couple” idea. It’s been month of this. I met him before I knew about my cancer, and I didn’t question his not wanting to be too involved. It was fun, and all. But then, I got diagnosed, and when I told him, I was sure he would run away. Leave me, because dealing with a sick girl that you didn’t even consider your girlfriends, I wouldn’t put that on anybody’s shoulder. But he stayed. He stuck by my side through some of my appointments, through the bad days, and the good days. So maybe, deep down, he cares for me. He has too.

I’m afraid he knows I am much more invested in this than him and will suffocate him, which is why he doesn’t want to take it to the next level. Sometimes I feel like I already do, suffocate him. I might ask for too much affection, and too much attention. I don’t know. And with the cancer… But he hasn’t fled, yet.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asks at some points during our meal.

“My mother’s coming, actually.”

“Oh, that’s good. You shouldn’t be alone too much.”

“I’m not. I have you.” I smile, taking a bite.

“When is your next appointment?”

“Tomorrow. But I think mom will stay at mine to come with me.”

“Great. I don’t want you to be alone.”

I’m scared to admit that me neither. I wish I was a strong independent woman, but the cancer really freaks me out.

I check the time when we have both ended our plates.

“Oh, I don’t start in long” I realize, looking at my phone.

“I’ll drop you off. You’re not that far from here.”

I smile warmly. I kind of hate the subway.

“Thanks.”

We go to the counter to pay, and then we get back to his car. When he drops me off in front of the flower shop, I kiss him through the window.

“I’ll remind you about the party next week, okay?”

“Yeah, perfect.” I smile.

“Good shift, Love. And good luck for tomorrow. See ya.”

I wave at him as he leaves with his car, then turns around to go inside.

“Oh good you’re here.” Kristen greets me.

“Yeah, by the way I needed to talk to you…”

“No time!” She hurries to put in my arm the watering can she was holding. “I got an important appointment right now. You close tonight.”

“But it’s about my…” I say helplessly as she gathers her things to leave.

“Email it to me, please. I’m in a hurry.”

Before I can even say anything more, she slams the door in my face. I sigh. I have my appointment tomorrow and I don’t know if I’ll be able to come work on Friday. But I guess she doesn’t care that much. She knows about my condition, so if she decide to not hear what I have to tell her, it’s on her.

As no one comes in, I go in the back to change in my apron, then proceed to water the plants, and take care of the few customers that comes in. Not a very busy day, until it’s around four. At this time people leave their work, so it’s mostly around now and the closing hour that the most people come by.

I realize between two clients that the bouquet Lorie made me yesterday is still on the counter behind me. I inspect it, to see if the flowers are still blossoming. It could be damaged in the subway, but maybe if I borrow a big pot it could protect it during the ride back.

The little bell rings behind me, so I turn around to greet the client.

It takes me a second to recognize the girl from the subway.

“Guitar girl!” I exclaim when she sees me.

She seems frozen in place, until I realize she probably doesn’t remember me, and I must look completely crazy to her.

But then she shakes my embarrassment by answering with the same energy:

“Pink-Hair girl!”

“Hi, it’s… what a coincidence!” I exclaim. “It’s funny to see you here. How can I help you?”

“Hi, yeah, it’s… a coincidence. I just… I work at the restaurant across the street. I just ended my shift and wanted to buy flowers for my little sister.” She explains.

“You know what kind?” I ask, as the good florist I am.

She laughs. “Well, you’re the expert.”

Okay, then. I join her on the other side of the counter to lead her to the flower rack.

 “What’s your budget?” I ask, inspecting the flower. Some need to be thrown away, I realize.

“Oh, euhm… twenty dollars? Is it okay? I have no idea how much it costs.”

“Oh yeah, that would be a big enough bouquet.” I reassure her. “She’s a lucky girl. What colors does she likes?”

She watches the rack, deciding, but it’s like she is not even here.

“I think this one. And maybe those.” She points to some.

“Oh, a very earthy girl.” I comment, inspecting her choice. “I know just the thing.”

As she doesn’t really seem comfortable with what she is doing, I start to pick flowers and leaves that matches the flowers she just showed me.

“How’s your shirt?” I ask casually while going back behind the counter to make the bouquet. “I am again very sorry I stained it like that.”

“It’s okay.” She says, and I can feel her watching my every move.

“You said it was new.” I reply.

“It gives it a certain style.”

I look up at her. Coffee is super hard to make go away; I know it very well.

“So it is still stained!” I exclaim. Damn, I stained a girl’s tee-shirt, and the universe just keeps rubbing it in my face. “I am so sorry. Look, this is on me.” I say giving her the bouquet.  “I can’t…”

“No, you’re kidding, come on, it’s not that deep. Here.” She puts a twenty bill on the counter violently.

“No seriously, I need to pay you back. I mean, fate has brought you to my path again, it’s a sign I should make amends for my action.”

“Then I should not accept your amends.” Well, she is making it very difficult. “I mean it, it’s nothing. I didn’t even like it.”

“But you wore it.” I retort.

“Because I had nothing else.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah! Don’t worry. Oh, by the way,” she says reaching in her pocket. “Here’s the paper you gave me. It had some stuff written on it, so I thought it might have been important. And now that I see you again…”

I take the paper. What is she on about? Until I see the paper, I wrote my name and number on it for the clients from yesterday. It’s the paper I mist have given her in the subway for the stain.

“Oh, right. It’s nothing.” I say, embarrassed because I gave that girl my number without realizing it. I throw it away.

I push the bouquet a bit further for her to take, looking at her, but she doesn’t move.

“Alright, then, maybe I’ll…” I say.

“Would you like to go and get coff…” She says at the exact same time.

Why am I blushing? I smile at her, without being able to stop myself.

“Go ahead.” I tell.

“No, you first.”

“Come on, please.” I insist.

She sighs but give up.

“I said, would you like to go and get coffee, sometime? Since last time my tee-shirt soaked yours.”

I’m speechless. I look at her, eyes widen. Did she just…

“I love coffee.” Is the only thing I seem to be able to say.

“I love… flowers.” She answers.

God, Lover, now she felt like she had to answer! I can be so clumsy sometime.

“You could tell me about flowers, because I don’t understand how you make such a perfect arrangement for a girl you don’t even know.”

Oh. Okay, it’s okay.

“That sounds like a plan.” I answer.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

Tomorrow…

“Oh, I… I end my shift at 6 tomorrow. What about you?”

“I’m on the night shift, so that’s the hour I start at. What about Friday? I end up approximately at the same time as today.”

“Me too!” I say, excited.

“Okay, I can just pop by, and we’ll see, then?”

“Definitely.”

“Great!”

We stare at each other a bit more, then she nods. Did I just accepted a coffee date with a girl I don’t even know the name of?

“Bye then.” She says, taking the flowers.

“Bye…” I answer, waiting for her name.

“Reputation. Rep.”

“Lover.” I say, but it’s obvious because it’s on my stupid badge.

But she doesn’t seem to notice it.

“Bye Lover.” She says, and the way she says my name makes me blush even harder.

“Bye Rep.” I say.

She turns her back to me and I have to shake my head when she leaves to flower shop to maintain a certain composure.

It’s far, far later, that I realize that this little friendly date is a stupid idea.

Chapter Text

Midnights

You see all the wisest women had to do it this way

Cause we were born to be the pawn in every lover’s game

If you fail to plan, you plan to fail

Strategy sets the scene for the tale

I’m the wind in our free-flowing sails

And the liquor in our cocktails

Wednesday May 8th

I don’t think I’ve physically seen my mother in months now, trying to flee as far away from them as possible. So for her to be here right now? It’s surreal.

“Mom?” I say in disbelief.

“Mom?” Tee whispers next to me. “I should let you, I think.”

“Yeah…” I can’t even look at her as my mother approaches, heels clicking on the ground.

“Hello, dear. Was that a friend of yours?”

I turn where she’s watching Tee going over some other paintings.

“No, a customer interested in my painting, actually,” I half lie.

“These are your paintings?”

She points her polished finger behind me, to the three canvas we were just watching.

“Yes.” I say between my teeth, irritated. “What are you doing here?”

“What? I can’t come to see the success of my daughter? If you can call this, one…”

“If you’re just here to spite me you can leave.”

“Midnights, have some respect. I came here to try and understand why you’re making such a fuss about all of… this.”

My mother doesn’t believe in the arts. She believes in facts, science, and reason. The frivolity of trying to make your life entertaining and meaningful besides the fact that you can provide a family is not something she is capable of feeling. I am almost thirty, and she keeps making me feel like a child every time she enters the same room as me. And right now, I do feel very, very small.

When she sees my face, she reaches to touch my cheek.

“My dear… you know I only want the best for you. I’m only afraid this will turn into a John situation.”

“What? Mom, this is nothing like it.”

She takes a deep breath, then turn to the adorned walls.

“Fine. Will you show me around?”

I watch the arm she’s handing me.

“Come on, I haven’t got all day. Your father suggested that I came by, to maybe understand you. That won’t happen if you don’t explain.”

You never listen, I want to argue. But I sigh and take her arm.

“So, these are your paintings? That customer was really interested?”

“Yes. They do have some kind of success. They are in an exhibition, are they not?” I say, still irritated.

“They are… very graphic. Next time are those girls going to be naked?”

“Mom!”

“I’m just asking. Maybe that’s what you’re into, I don’t know. It does sell, pornographic content, does it not ?”

“This is not… porn!”

“I don’t know, I’m trying to understand.”

I take a deep breath.

“No, you’re not, you’re still judging.”

“I did come here, didn’t I?”

“Hi Mid!” Someone shouts behind me.

I turn around to Rep and Deb marching toward us. Thank God. Someone to save me.

“Rep! Deb, you made it!”

“Reputation.” My mom says in a cold voice, ignoring Deb. “What a delight. I see you two are still friends.”

My mother accepted Rep in college when my friend had nowhere else to go on holiday but the more affirmed in her sexuality she got, the less my mother liked her.

“Definitively, yes.” I say, getting even closer to Rep to show her that it’s never going to change.

“Your entourage hasn’t gotten better, then.”

I knew the moment I saw her that this was going to end badly.

“Ma’am, with all your respect, if you only came to trash about your very hardworking daughter’s life you may as well leave now. She doesn’t want you here.” Rep says, defending me.

I love her for it, but it’s only going to make things worse.

“Rep…” I warn.

“Don’t you talk to me like that about my daughter.” My mother snaps back. “She can talk for herself. I want her to have a respectful life, not something like…”

“Like what? Mine?”

“Exactly like yours.” She exclaims, almost knocking her over with her grand gesture.

“Mom!” I snap back.

She then turns to me.

“You deserve more, darling. And I don’t want you to stay with… You know. You deserve a good life, with a good husband and a good job.”

“So, you didn’t come here to try and understand me? Just for one of your endless talks to get me home.”

“I did try to understand you and I don’t. I want you home, darling. You’re becoming… I mean look at you!”

I look down at what she’s showing me.

“What?” I ask, confused.

“You look like… you look like her.” She whispers, pointing to Rep without looking at her.

“A very fashionable person, I presume.” My best friend provokes her.

“A dyke.” Mom spits.

Guilt twists my gut. She dared say it. Rep doesn’t seem too offended, but I turn to mom.

“Get out. Go back home and never come back. I don’t want to speak with you, or see you again, mom.”

Her mouth drops open, like she’s genuinely chocked by my reaction. I’m sick of being her little puppet.

“Darling I just want…”

“Don’t force me to make a scene!” I shout.

She sneers at us, then wipe her hair back.

“Fine. You can say goodbye for the money your father sends you. And don’t come home crying when you realize how much of a mistake you made.”

Perched on her heels, she turns around and leaves the gallery, without a glance back.

When I can’t see her stupid outfit, I turn back to Rep.

“I’m so sorry, Rep.”

“It’s okay, I get called much worse. Sorry you have a shitty mom.”

She makes me laugh because she couldn’t be righter. My mom is desperately shitty. But then I shake my head and dig inside the training I learned years ago to stop my own feeling and make the almost-tears disappear.

“Did you had a chance to look around?” I ask when I contained myself.

“Yes, but I don’t think I’ve seen yours.”

“Let’s go, then.”

I show them to mine, looking around, afraid of seeing either my mom or that girl that left my side. I don’t know what I’ll do or say if I see her again.

When we get to the paintings, Deb seems deeply uncomfortable. They’re not graphic like mom seems to want to make them look like, but Deb doesn’t say anything. Rep keeps telling me how talented I am, and I keep drowning champagne because there is too many feelings around me right now.

We keep walking around, but eventually Rep wants Deb home, because it’s a school night.

“You should come by tomorrow.” She says when I take them to the door, because I’m supposed to stay here.

“Yeah, maybe. I’ll see. Bye.” I say, then turning to Deb: “I hope it gets better at school.”

“Thank you.” She says politely.

Then they take the door, Rep smiling one last time, before I go back to being alone in a crowd of people not really interested in my work.

I’ve seen people stop by mine, but no-one was much more interested than watching.

And no one comes to ask me anything, not like anyone knows who I am.

Well, this night was disastrous. I decide I don’t want to stay here, but the only thing that seems right is the sunshine Tee reflected, and the pull to find her again.

I leave, because there’s no point in staying, and before my brain can realize how stupid I must look, I go back where I met her. She said her hotel was just back up the street. I check the map on my phone, to find that there aren’t many hotels nearby. So, it must be one of those I can see.

I go there before I change my mind, because following a girl late at night is nothing but creepy.

I probably won’t find her, right? What am I going to do? Ask for a Tee at each hotel? I’m not going to go to her room, am I?

I don’t need to, it seems. Fate had more in mind.

Standing in front of the door of one of the hotels, she smiles at me wildly. Tee.

“You again? What are you doing here?” she asks, her smiles even wider.

My brain ceases any function. I didn’t think… and with the champagne and the wine… Is it even her?

“I.. hum… I wanted…” I stumble on my words.

She keeps staring at me, a small smirk at her lips, watching me struggle.

“Wanna have a drink?” she then asks, stopping my senseless words. “I have one to end in this bar.”

I stop my fumbling, looking where she’s pointing. She just offered me a drink. I must look like a total creep, but she offered a drink?

“Yes. I would love that.” I say, calming my nerves.

She smiles and offer me her arm. I can’t stop the smile when I take it, and she leads me inside. We sit at the bar, where two glass are already waiting.

“How was it with your mother?” She asks.

Oh good, she doesn’t want to know why I was creeping on her. But the feeling of guilt and shame creeps back up, so I take a long sip before saying:

“Terribly.”

“I was looking for you, actually.” She casually says, making my heart skip a beat. “Couldn’t find you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” She answers, amused by my reaction.

I look back down, intimidated by her easiness, and the light that seems to emanate from her.

“I… I thought I might have bored you.” I admit, fidgeting with the glass of, I think, is whisky.

“Oh, come on! I love people listening to me.”

Oh good, I haven’t fucked that up, then.

“Then I’m more than happy to listen.”

She smiles, and I smile, and everything seems suddenly so easy. She raises her glass, so I raise mine. And we clink our glasses.

“So,” Tee asks after taking a sip from her drink. “Do you want to talk about your mother?”

I snort.

“Definitively not. She just cut me off.”

“Cut you off?”

“Yeah, decided to stop with the money she sent me.”

“You’re… dependent of your parents? How old are you?”

There’s a light judgment in her voice.

“I’m… oh my god, it’s pathetic. I’m 29. It sounds terrible, now that you say it.”

“Why would you need your parents’ money?”

“I…” I realize I haven’t told her that the paintings were mine. “My job doesn’t pay much for now.”

“What do you do?”

She takes another sip, her lips curling around the hem, her throat swallowing beneath her skin.

“I… I paint.”

Her face lightens up.

“Oh! That’s why you love art? Do you have any pictures?”

“No, not on me, sorry. My mother doesn’t think it’s very noble.”

“Do you want to change the subject?”

“Yes. How about we command something actually enjoyable?”

I point to my glass of too-harsh liquor.

“Cocktail, you mean? You’re very fancy for someone without money.”

The joke hits just right and I burst out laughing.

“Okay fair enough. But this is disgusting.”

“Fine. It’s on me.”

She turns back to the bartender and commands two Sex on the Beach. She can probably read my mind because I’m feeling very Sex on the Beachy, right now.

“So,” I ask, to really change the focus to her, “How do you look like New York so far?”

“A whole lot better since tonight.” She smirks, watching me above her glass.

God, she’s so… overconfident. No, just enough confident, actually.

“What is your favorite part?” I ask, not allowing myself to blush like a schoolgirl.

“I liked Central Park if I’m being honest. I tried the zoo, but it was kind of depressing, though. But the vibe is cool.”

“Yeah, I don’t really go there.”

“Really? What’s your favorite part?”

I close my eyes briefly, trying to find something I like about New York.

“My old college dorm, I guess,” I say because it’s the only real thing I like about New York. And my parent's absence. We used to have such cool parties with Rep there, back then.

Tee starts laughing. “Really? Whoa, that’s… That feels true.”

“Yeah, I don’t really understand the hype around New York. I mean it’s loud. But I have pretty good memories in that dorm. And it’s away from my parents, that’s why I stay. Mostly.”

“What did you study? Art?”

I shake my head, sipping the cocktail that somehow appeared before me.

“Nah, Law, actually. I worked at a law firm, before.”

“You’re a lawyer?” She seems surprised.

“No, never got there. Just like an assistant sort of thing. I quit, but it did pay well.”

“So you have some money? Now that your parents aren’t helping you?

I snort.

“I thought we changed the subject.”

She grimaced apologetically, but add “Yeah, sorry. So law? And why did you stop?”

I take a deep breath but manage to realize it’s not my mother I’m trying to convince, but a girl that is genuinely interested in my life.

“I took it to make my parents happy to be honest. It was kind of fun, initially, but got boring really quick. And I’ve always painted, so that seemed more like something I wanted to do with my life.”

“Whoa. I wish I had something like that myself.”

She stares at her glass in self-pity.

“What do you do for a living?”

“I… I’m just out of college, actually. I waited tables all my years there and lived at my parents, so I have a buttload of money to travel. I’m like… taking the year off, to see what I’ll do. You know?”

“Like you were in college… this year?”

She smiles at me.

“Yeah, why?”

My eyes widen despite my control. I ended college like… 5 years ago.

That girl is a fucking baby, I realize.

“How old are you?!” I exclaim.

She laughs at my suddenness.

“23, why?”

“You’re… oh my god.”

I put my head in my hands and fall on the counter. She’s 6 years younger than me. She finished high school when I finished college.

“You seem chocked. I don’t look that much older.”

“You… Never mind. You finished college this year?”

“Yeah, I’m waiting to know if I passed. I should get an email soon.”

“What did you study?”

“History.”

“Fascinating.”

“I know.”

We both smile, but my heart takes the guilt trip down my throat. She’s 23. And I entertain an… obsession for her.

“So, are you going to tell me exactly how you found me?”

My eyes shot up to her. Shit. She knows. How fucking weird must I look right now, a creeper that came to get her.

“I…”

“Come on, I just want to know what kind of mastermind you must be to have found me.”

I force my muscles to relax.

“That is stating that I was looking for you.”

“Weren’t you?”

I hesitate to lie, but her big blue eyes just force the truth out of my tongue.

“Maybe, yes.”

“So, how did you do it?”

“Like you said, I’m a mastermind. I can’t tell you all my techniques.”

She watches me, trying to read beneath the layer of alcohol blending my expression – the years of theatrical training and acting also do the trick.

“Nothing to do with the fact that I told you where my hotel was?”

“Nah. Just fate.”

A smile tugs at my lips, as she sips her own drink.

She sighs, fatigue drawing circles beneath her eyes.

“I’m sure your mother’s wrong. You have everything you need to become a renowned painter.”

“You haven’t even seen my paintings.” I lie.

“I just know it. Based off your vibe. You seem like a very talented person.”

“Do I?”

“Yes,” Tee answers. “Very much.”

I look away, down in my drink, the intoxication making me say more than I probably should.

“I think I keep trying to prove her that I have something to do here. But the more I think about it, the more I realize it’s me, I’m really trying to prove something to.”

“I thought you didn’t liked New York?”

“It’s not that. I have my best friends here. I love the… memories I made here. I’m not a fan of the town. That’s it.”

“You’re the second person to tell me that today.” She states, not really looking at me.

“Really? One day in New York and already, you have tons of friends?”

It comes out a little bit less sarcastic than I meant.

“One. Other than you. A guy, from the hotel. He hates New York. I found him here tonight, actually. I’ve put him to bed minutes before I found you.”

“Really?” I say, like she’s talking about the weather.

I don’t really understand what she’s telling me.

“Yeah. He was sad and wasted.”

I chuckle.

“Sounds like someone I know.”

“Who?”

I look up and realize the answer I’m about to give is just self-pitying and I don’t really feel sad and wasted right now. Just wasted.

“Me… I guess. I used to.”

“You’re sad?”

“Not right now. But my parents make me sad.”

She sighs.

“My boyfriend makes me sad.”

This makes me shot up. A bit to briskly to be casual.

“Ex-boyfriend, actually. God, that’s weird.”

“Why?”

“We’ve been together since my second year at uni. I mean… If you don’t count the countless breaks. He did it once more and I called it off for good. He did cheated on me, this time.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

“That’s kind of why I rushed my stay here. He said I’m a coward.”

“You’re the coward? He cheated on you and then called you a coward. Who’s rejecting the fault?”

It makes her laugh.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Her phone vibrates in her pocket. She takes it to read the message as I finish sipping my cocktail.

“Your uni result?”

“No… It’s… nothing.”

She hurriedly hides it back in her pocket, and I don’t push, even though it doesn’t sound like nothing. She’s hiding something, but probably doesn’t want to share it with a stranger.

“Want to have another one?” I ask, showing my empty glass.

Her face softens, as the grin takes place to the sorrow.

“Yes, definitively.”

After that second drink, I don’t remember much of the night, expect for laughter, and maybe a bit of crying. And definitely some puking.

So that’s how I end up drinking my guts up with a girl, laughing so hard it hurts, for hours on end, until the sun comes up, and I take a taxi home, without a single memory of how I get inside my bed safely.

Chapter Text

Speak Now

Tall, dark and beautiful  

He's complicated, he's irrational  

But I hope someday you'll take me away, and save the day, yeah  

Something in his deep brown eyes has me sayin’  

He’s not all bad like his reputation  

Thursday 9th may 

I re-read the mail for the hundredth time, sitting on the bus station bench, waiting for Fearless and Debut. 

Fearless is probably right. She always is. That’s why she’s the smartest. I can still get to NYCDA without an internship this summer. But it would have look really good on my resume. 

Just this morning mom reminded me that I already have a great resume, because I’ve been in the drama club since I could walk. But it doesn’t feel enough. Not when I see the words translating a failure on the screen. 

I have drama club later today. Sophie, our teacher, is going to be disappointed. I couldn’t tell her before because I haven’t seen her but she knew I was supposed to hear about this internship. She actually gave me the tip, to get into NYCDA. I don’t know how I will tell her. 

The bus stops in front of me, so I put my phone back and get up. A flow of people come off, until I spot Lessie, but Deb is not with her. 

“Hi Speak! How are you?” 

I smile back to her, as she takes my arm to follow the rest of the students. 

“Great! Isn’t Deb with you?” 

“No, she wasn’t on the bus. She might have missed it. I haven’t heard from her.” 

“Maybe we should wait for her.” I wonder. 

“I don’t wanna be late if she’s coming with the next bus. She’ll understand.” 

I don’t think it’s fair to let our friend alone if she’s going to be late, but I follow Lessie towards the building anyway. It’s hard to make her change her mind. 

We walk towards the doors when a loud engine rumbling catches our attention. Actually, every single person still outside turns to see what’s causing the sound. 

A motorcycle, with two helmeted people on it. They stop right before the high school gates, and the one behind gets down, taking the helmet down. 

Her blond curly hair falls down on the leather jacket she’s wearing before Deb puts the helmet on the back of the engine. And seconds later its Reputation, Deb’s sister, that takes her helmet off.  

“Oh, so that’s why she wasn’t on the bus.” Fearless smiles watching the scene unfolding. The two girls start talking, until we also see Drew coming closer. 

“Why?” 

“I think she’s trying to make Jessica jealous. Look, even Drew is interested in the motorcycle.” 

They talk for a bit, then Deb takes the jacket in her arm and follow Drew towards us. Reputation spots us, and we wave at her, before she puts back the helmet and go back with the same groan from the engine. 

Deb and Drew are almost at our levels now, and Lessie starts to walk to meet them. 

“Look, Deb I really wanted to...” 

“Get lost, Drew.” Lessie says, taking Deb’s arm and pulling her with us.  

“But...” he says from behind us. 

We don’t turn around and walk inside the building, to our class. 

“Was that planned? Why didn’t you told me you weren’t taking the bus?” 

“Oh, right, I forgot. I’m sorry. Did I look cool, though?” Deb asks, cheek pink and hair wind-kissed. 

“The coolest.” I assure her. 

°°° 

We decide to eat lunch outside, today. Because it’s sunny and hot enough. We sit with our trays on a bench outside the cafeteria. I am kind of dreading having to go the drama club and admitting that I wasn’t up to the standards Sophie believed. But I still have a period before. 

I don’t talk much during lunch, letting Lessie and Deb talk about boys, grades and the atrocity of what they serve us in this school for lunch. Until someone stops in front of us. Looking up, I realize at the same time as the girls that it’s Drew. Back to bother us, then. 

“Hey, Deb, can I talk to you?” 

She looks up, her eyes suspicious. 

“No.” Lessie answers for her. 

He already tried to talk to Deb this morning in class, then in the corridor. 

He insists, looking at Deb, ignoring Lessie. 

“Please, Deb. I really want to apologize for Jessica. She was being really mean and you didn’t deserve that. I care about you.” 

“You should have said something yesterday then. Get lost.” Lessie adds. 

He seems hopeless, trying to catch Deb’s eyes. 

“Please, Deb. I swear I didn’t...” 

“Are you deaf? Leave her alone.” Lessie exclaims. 

She’s on the verge of getting up, so I put my hand on her shoulder to keep her down. 

“It’s okay.” a small voice says from the side. 

Deb gets up, to Drew’s relieve. 

“Deb!” says Lessie. 

“It’s okay” she repeats. “He wants to apologize.” 

Fearless eyes narrow, but she relaxes in the bench and let the two of them go. 

“I don’t like him.” 

“I know” I answer.  

“And she’s stupid to go after him when he obviously is an asshole.” 

“Definitively.” 

She turns to me, ignoring the two of them that have stop a bit further. Deb is toying with a rock with her foot and he’s doing all the talking, all in grand gestures and apologies. 

“Promise me you’ll never fall for someone stupid like that. Please.” 

I smile back to her. 

“I promise, Less’. You too.” 

“Promise.” 

“Your neighbor counts.” 

“He is not stupid!” She defends him. 

“He desperately is.” 

I have met her neighbor. They have this cute thing where they talk to each other writing signs on paper and showing each other through their window. Her parents don’t like him very much, I think. 

“You’re just jealous!” she exclaims. 

“He has a girlfriend! I answer. “At least Drew is free.” 

“But desperately wants Jessica to be his girlfriend.” 

“Still, she has... some kind of chance.” 

As I say those lats words Deb is walking back towards us with a grin on her face I’ve rarely seen there. 

“How did it go?” Lessie asks. 

“He apologized...” she says, clearly hiding something, as she sits back with us. 

“And?” 

“He agreed to come revise at mine tonight!” 

Fearless’s face decompose. 

“What?!” 

“It’s good!” Deb says in a much cheerier way than she did yesterday. “And he apologized, recognizing that I am essential for his school work.” 

“You... you still asked him to come to yours?!” 

“Yes! That’s what I wanted.” 

“You should have dumped him!” Lessie shouts. 

She starts getting red. 

“He apologized!” I exclaim, taking Deb’s defense. “Why are you so upset? He did the right thing.” 

“He... he’s an asshole! Why am I the only one seeing this? I can’t believe you don’t have my back on this!” She adds, looking at me. 

My jaw drops open, but I can’t answer anything. 

“Are you jealous?” Deb suddenly asks accusingly. 

“Oh! As if!” She shouts, getting up. “I just want the best for you and you’ll realize he is not that. Anyway, I’m out of here. See you in class.” 

She storms back inside the cafeteria with her tray, leaving us two alone. 

“She’s so intense!” Deb exclaims. 

“Yeah. We should probably go too. Come on.” 

We get up and back inside, and when we get to the cleaning station, I turn to Deb. 

“I think it’s cool if he’s coming to yours. You’ll tell us how it went, right?” 

“Of course!” 

I smile as I leave the tray on the rail. 

When we get to the class Fearless doesn't come to talk with us. And before we even get to her, we’re being informed that our afternoon teacher is absent today. Drew go see Deb to ride back with her on the bus, and I can barely say goodbye to Fearless before she storms out to get the next bus as well.  

I go to the library. Fearless is acting stupid. She shouldn't be upset about something that makes Debut genuinely happy. 

I stay at the library, reading plays, waiting for drama club. When 3 o’clock comes around I leave to get to the studio. 

It’s not very crowded in here, and the second Sophie spots me she gets straight to me. 

“So, young lady. How did it go?” 

I sigh, putting my bag aside. 

“I didn’t get it.” 

Her face turns to pity. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I really thought that...” 

“Yeah, it’s okay. I just need my talent now, to get it.” 

“I’ll write you a letter of recommendation, I swear.” 

“Thanks.” 

She clears her throat, lingering a bit more to my side, before turning to the rest of the class. Emma then comes to meet me as I take my shoes off. Sophie wants us to be barefoot. Emma’s a friend that is a class younger, but she’s been at the drama club since she got in high school. We even met before that, in school, when we were at the same drama club in town. 

“I heard...” she said apologetically. 

“Yeah, it’s okay.” 

“You deserved it.” she reassures me. 

I smile, a weak, pitiful smile. 

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen. Please assemble in the middle of the room, now.” 

“Come on.” 

Emma takes my hand and we both go and reunite around her with the rest of the students. Sophie was an actress before, in movies and tv shows and plays. She was what I want to become. We don’t know why she quitted and decided to teach but she’s excellent. 

“Like every week, we’ll work on end of the year performance we chose at the beginning of the year, especially because the date is getting very close now. Today, though, is a bit different.” 

She points in front of her, to the doors of the room. We all turn to see a man standing there, in a suit, arms crossed, that I hadn’t noticed before. 

“Mr Mayer here is an agent for a big producer company, Timeless Studios, and they’re looking for new talents for advertising, short films and maybe even lower roles in tv shows. So, I wish you’ll all be on your best behaviors today. Don’t overstress it, just act like yourself, and if he’s interested, he’ll let you know. Don’t acknowledge him. He will only watch.” 

I watch in disbelief the gift the sky is teasing me with. This a huge opportunity. The internship doesn’t even seem worth anything compared to this. This a first step in the real world, this is the beginning of a network, this is the beginning of a professional resume. This is what I would need. 

But it’s not like I’m going to get it, anyway. This seem way too good to be true. 

“Wow, could they have made him more gorgeous?” Emma asks, biting her lips. 

I turn to her, wide eyed. 

“Emma!” I whisper, nudging my elbow in her side. “He’s twice your age!” 

“Oh, come on! Doesn't mean he isn’t nice to look at.” 

I shake my head, but notice every girl giggling over him. I can’t lie that he is handsome, though. But God, this is so inappropriate. 

We work on the show. I actually got the lead, back when we were auditioning. I try not to overdo anything, but I need to be noticed by this man. So, I give by best, I keep it professional with the others, and hope, with all my heart, that the guy is watching. Even though I deeply doubt it will actually work. I wouldn’t dare go to him. And despite the efforts, I’m not sure he’s even looking at us. Every time I glance at him, he’s watching his phone. But I pray to whatever god listens up there that this is what he is sending me to make up for the internship. 

At some point the man even leaves the room. I can’t help the disappointment curl in my guts when I can’t see him anymore. He probably got bored of us all. 

“Oh no, his face was a better view than Arnold’s pimple.” Emma states. 

Arnold frowns his eyebrow, throwing storm with his eye at Emma.  

When I watch Sophie, she doesn’t seem all that concern by this Mr Mayer sudden absence, and eventually the hour and half we got is up and everybody goes to change. 

I get back to my bag on a corner and try to take of the dress I wear for rehearsal on top of my close. The thing is so old the zipper is broken, so Sophie has to tie it with safety pins on the back but I can’t reach them by myself. 

I contort myself to try and grab one of the safety pins but I fail. 

Suddenly, when I’m about to give up and go to one of the others, I feel hands on my back, and a deep voice asks from behind me “You need help with that?” 

I can’t even answer that in two second the safety pins are unlocked and the dress is untightened around me. I turn around, pulling at the sleeves to take it off, realizing it’s that Mayer man. 

“Hi, I didn’t mean to scare you, but you were struggling.” 

“Yeah, no, thank you.” I say, blushing without control. 

“What’s your name?” he then asks, more professionally.  

“Speak Now.” I say, trying to look at him in the eye but miserably failing. He has some kind of very... intimidating aura. 

“Well Speak Now, are you available next week end?” 

My heart skips a bit and my eyes widen. 

“Why?” 

“I have a job for you. An add. It’s not much, but you’re exactly what the producers want.” 

“Really?” 

Now my heart pump harder, faster, bursting with joy. Oh my god, it’s happening. 

“I... I don’t know what to... why... me?” 

“Yes, you. My job is to find promising talents, so I have to trust my gut. I think you’re exactly that.” 

I look around to see everyone stopped to watch us.  

He laughs then, a clear laughs, before pulling from his pocket a white card. 

“Here, you take that and call me before the end of the week to let me know your answer.” 

I look at the white card, then slowly take it from his hands. 

“Okay, yes... I’ll... I’ll have to ask my parents and...” 

“Of course. Just think about it.” 

I force my eyes to meet his. 

“Thank you Mr Mayer.” 

He smirks, then extend a hand for me to shake it. 

“You can call me John.” 

Chapter Text

Reputation  

In the middle of the night, in my dreams  

You should see the things we do, baby  

In the middle of the night, in my dreams  

I know I’m gonna be with you so I take my time  

Are you ready for it?  

Thursday 9th may 

I did not expect to see Mid’s mom at her exhibition. That woman has always acted like she was nice, but Mid would tell me how much she spat on my back when I was gone from their home. It’s good that Mid cut things off with her, even though I know it must hurt her deeply.  

The next day, as promised, I take Deb to school on Bertha. She seems a lot cheerier than last night, and I can see her grin when she descends, taking off the helmet. I do the same, putting the stand down.  

“So, who’s Jessica?” I ask, watching carefully around to spot the face of an annoying pick me. 

Deb turns around to face me. 

“No, come on Rep, it’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not. She disrespected you.” 

“Look around, Rep. Everyone thinks I’m super cool. It’s revenge enough.” 

She’s smiling wide, showing with her head the people whispering and marveling in front of the bike. I even spot a guy coming up to us. 

“Deb! Is that yours?” 

“Hi, Drew… It’s… It’s my sister’s.” 

I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips when she calls me sister, but I look back down. 

So this is Drew. Looks a bit too… normal. Like average good-looking. I don’t understand what she sees in him. 

“It’s so cool! What kind of engine is this?” 

“Too powerful for your little muscle, boy.” I answer. “I guess I should let you, Deb. I’ll come back at 4 to get you.” 

“Really! Thank you.” 

She takes me in her arm and I squeeze back, whispering: “Don’t forget he didn’t say anything yesterday.” 

“Thank you!” 

She hands me her jacket but I push it back in her hands. 

“The jacket is really cool, Deb.” I say with a wink. 

She takes it back, and then follow Drew up to the main building. I see her two friends Speak Now and Fearless at the same moment as Deb. I wave them and they answer, then climb back on Bertha’s back and make the engine rumble, for the best impression. Before I head back home. 

When I get home, I ask if Jack wants to come by for the song I’ve started yesterday. And waiting for him, I only find myself looking for what to wear tomorrow to meet with Lover. Like a fucking high school lovesick girl. 

It’s red with embarrassment because I was trying on a dress that I had to jump out of when Jack rang that I open the door to him. 

“Hi, how’re you doing?” I ask casually, letting him come in. 

“Great, how about you?” 

“Nice, nice.” 

He then looks at me like he is expecting something. 

“What?” I snap, closing the door. 

“You didn’t forget we have practice with the band, tonight? Why would you ask me to come early?” 

I froze. 

“Yes, I totally forgot, actually. Amos?” 

“Yep.” 

“Great.” 

“Great.” 

I don’t say anything for a bit, because my mind is still on the dress I was trying that I did not like. 

“So why did you wanted to show me?” he asks. 

“Oh, right! Come on.” 

I lead him to my room, then switch on the computer and plug in my guitar. 

“I just started to work on a song, and I think it can be fire but I need help with the lyrics. Here’s what I got so far.” 

I hand him the paper in which I wrote everything, then gives him the chair in front of the desk. I show him the track and what I did of it, then sing it with him, nanananing the parts I don’t know. 

“This ain't for the best   

I’ve only met you twice, so”  “We need to change that.” I say, just before I keep going. 

You must think I’m crazy.   

We can't make   

Any promises now, can we, babe?   

But you can make me coffee”  

“That would be the chorus, so it’s start with the chorus and I thought it was fun if it was just like, my voice but with a lot of autotune, no instrument.” 

“Okay, yeah I see that. This ain’t for the best… Euhm… I’ll keep thinking.” He says. 

“For the verses I don’t have much. I was thinking maybe Nanana in the bar, where’re you at? Phone lights in my nightstand in the black, come here you could meet me in the dark.”  

“How about in the back? Come here you could meet me in the back. Like the back of the bar. But where does that song comes from, already?” 

“I didn’t tell you. I met a girl on the subway and… I’m obsessing over her. I see her again tomorrow actually. Turned out she works in the same street as me.” 

He laughs. 

“You have a crush on a girl from the subway?” he asks in disbeleif when he realizes I'm serious. 

“Don’t laugh! It’s serious. At least I’m inspired.” 

“Okay. For the first line, it could be like… Dive bar in…  

“ The east side ! Dive bar on the east side, where’re you at?”   

“Yeah, cool !” he starts singing “ Dive bar on the east side, where’re you at, Phone lights in my nightstand in the black, come here you could meet me in the back. ” 

I try to think back to this moment I stumble into her, the way her hair looked, her clothes fitted her, her… 

“ Dark jeans and your nikes, look at you. ” I say. “ Oh damn, never seen …” 

“Wait this is fire!” He puts the track back to the beginning and we both sing. 

“ Dark jeans and your Nikes, look at you, oh damn never seen that color blue, just think all the fun things we could do …” 

“’Cause I like you!” I scream before the chorus is back on the track. 

“ This ain’t for the best, my reputation never been worse so .” Jack says out of nowhere. 

“Damn right!” This is so cool, I realize. He is so great for lyrics. “ You must like me for me. We can’t make, any promises now can we babe? But you can me coffee.”  

“Why coffee? We were talking about a bar. Why not, you can make me a drink ?” 

“Oh, that’s perfect!” 

“Okay, what do you got for the second verse?” 

I show him the scraps of lyrics I formed, and he transforms them into such a good story. 

West side on the third floor me and you  

Gorgeous, you're a mansion with a view   

Do the girls back home touch you like I would?  

Long nights with your hands up in my hair  

Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs  

Stay here honey I don’t wanna share  

Cause I like you  

Is it cool that I said all that,   

Is it chill that you’re in my head,  

Cause I know that it’s delicate.  

Is it cool that I said all that,   

Is it too soon to do this yeah  

Cause I know that it’s delicate  

Isn’t Isn’t isn’t delicate?  

“Oh and the bridge is perfect, listen. Sometimes I wonder, when you sleep, Are you ever dreaming of me? Sometimes when I look into your eyes I pretend you're mine all the damn time”  

He bears the reaction I was expecting, as excited as me. 

“Oh my god, this is amazing.” 

“I know, right?” 

“Okay, I think we should add some keyboard sounds during the chorus. Like that.” 

We then proceed to mix up the track even better, and we sing it back from the beginning, changing some words here and there. 

“We should show it to the groups tonight. This could be a hit.” He exclaims. 

“Whoa. Calm down, Jack. We’re far from this.” 

“Yeah, you’re right.  Especially if we don’t get produced” He says, annoyed. 

“You’re serious here, Jack? This contract is a buttload of shit. We’ll never get out of it if we sign. I swear this is for the best.” 

“Yeah, but we won’t get many contracts, Rep. We don’t get any, actually.” 

“There will be someone that will see our worth, someday. And in the meantime, we can produce our own songs. With social media, it’s became a lot easier.” 

“Yeah… Let’s just make the chords for the band.” 

I sigh, but help him on the arrangement that we then send to the band. 

“Are you coming with me early to Amos’?” he asks when I accompany him to the door.  

“No actually, I have to get my little sister from school.” 

“Oh, okay.” 

I can see he wants to leave, but stays by the door a bit longer. 

“They’re really pissed at you. Paul espacially. Don’t push this contract thing too much tonight.” 

That was to be expected.  

“As long as we don’t sign.” 

He sighs then, but still don’t go. 

“Look, it’s just we don’t... we don’t all have a job aside. Some of us live from music only and we don’t live really well.” 

“So, you’d rather lose your songs? If you live for the music, you know the songs matters more than the money.” 

“Yeah, but food and rent matter more than the songs, sometimes.” 

Yeah, I guess he’s right, but we can’t just give up all our work. After staring at me for a bit longer he pushes the door open. 

There’s laughter and cheers in the staircase behind the door, and then it’s Deb herself coming from the corridor that shows up. I froze for a second, confused. 

“What… What are you doing here?” I ask as Jack looks between us. 

“Oh, one of our teachers was absent. But we’re just going to revise. Hi Jack!” 

That’s when I spot the boring looking guy from this morning behind her. Well, then today turned out better than yesterday. 

“Okay… Well, I have practice with the band, so…” 

“Okay. I’ll see you later, then. Come on, Drew.” 

She takes his hand, and he shyly waves at me when he almost bump into me. I look back at Jack. 

“I guess you’re coming with me, then?” 

“Yep.” 

We take the subway there, my guitar bumping against everyone and I kind of hope I see Lover again, like we met two days ago. But she is not here, and when we get to Amos apartment, I’m anxious about the fact that I have nothing to wear to see her.  

Practice is cool. They are all kind of cold with me because of the contract thing, but I assure them we’re doing the right call, and even Midnights told me so.  

“Can we negotiate?” I ask when I can see that it doesn’t work on them. 

“The terms?” Paul asks. “No.” 

“No, time. If the songs don’t work, or we don’t get anything else for like, three months, we’ll accept. Is it something we can ask them for?” 

They seem to think about it for a bit looking at each other. 

“I mean, I could try.” Paul offers.  

“So now you’re okay to sign?” Amos asks sarcastically. 

“No. I’ll make it work another way. But if it’s the only way we don’t dissolve, I’ll sign, knowing we’ll all regret it.” 

He leans back in the sofa, putting is hand behind his head with a smirk. 

“Now that I can live with.” 

I’ve always had mixed feelings about Amos. He’s a friend of a friend and we met when we started the group. When we do concerts, he always comes home with a girl – or three. He’s kind of a pervert and I’m sure he wants to bang me – at least I know he makes joke about it with the guys – Jack told me so. But he’s a great addition in the music, a musical genius, so I put up with his looks, his smirks and his disgusting sexist jokes.  

“Okay, so the matter is closed.” I say firmly.

“What if they don’t accept more time?” Matthew asks. 

“Then they can kiss my ass.” 

The moment I say this they all start coming at me again, shouting louder than the others. 

“Okay, shut up!” Jack shouts at some point. “We’ll ask, and if they say no, we’ll get mad at each other then. Let’s just practice, please!” 

They grumble, but each of them gets on their instrument and we practice old songs, and the one we just created with Jack. And I have to say it sounds fabulous, and every single one of them is as excited as us about it. 

When I get back home Deb is already sleeping, and the guy is gone. At least that turned out good for her. I spent an hour deciding what to wear, until I slap my own face because who am I becoming. I go to bed, and the next day I dress normally – even if it doesn’t feel normal at all.  

This lunch shift might be the longest I have ever experienced. But my hearts start racing when it’s finally time to leave, and each step to the flower shop is excruciating. It all seems like a bad idea. But then I shake the dread away. I’ve already done this, it’s okay. 

I push the door open, but don’t see her immediately. There’s another woman at the counter. 

“Good afternoon, ma’am. How can I help you?” she politely asks. 

I get closer to the counter. 

“Hi, excuse me. I’m looking for Lover… she works here, I was supposed to meet her…” 

“Oh. She’s not working today, she’s sick. Didn’t she tell you?” 

“Oh…” Sick? How sick? Is this bad? “No, she didn’t. Do you know when she will be back?” 

“Well, probably on Monday. But you know, with her thing, you never know.” 

Her thing? What thing? 

“Yeah, it’s true.” I lie, because apparently, I’m supposed to know what her thing is. “Okay, well. Thank you. Good day. 

“Good day, ma’am.” 

When I go back in the sun, I light up a cig. This whole interaction makes me feel weird now. Disappointed. She’s sick but we were supposed to see each other… Did she forget? But on the other hand, she had no way to reach me. Because I’m the creepy one, to have kept her number.  

When I get home, I have a message from Deb’s mom, saying she’ll be here in thirty. Deb is already home; I can hear her working on her guitar. 

“Hi sunshine. You’re getting good at this” I say from the threshold. 

She startles when she hears me. 

“Oh Rep, hi.” 

“You’re writing something?” I ask when I see the paper spread next to her on the bed. I come closer to sit with her. 

“Yeah it’s… it’s stupid really.” 

“Show me!” I move forward to take the paper, but she snatches it from my hand. 

“No, seriously, it’s bad.” 

“Oh, come on! I won’t judge.” 

She sighs, but reluctantly hands me the paper. I browse the lyrics. It’s literally about Drew. Like, she name-dropped him. Its about how this boy only talks about another girl when Deb is litteraly in love with him. He’s the reason for the teardrops on my guitar. That’s actually good poetry. I didn’t think she had that in her, my little Debut. 

“It’s not bad, Deb. It’s really good, actually. Do you want to sing it to me?” 

“God no!” She exclaims in embarrassment. 

I laugh, to try and make her more comfortable.  

“According to yesterday these lyrics are outdated, aren’t they?” 

“Yeah, he… he apologized, and accepted to come revise here. He thought what Jessica did was mean.” 

“Well, finally it knocked some sense into him, didn’t it?” 

“Yeah. But he kept talking about her, though. Asked me how he could gain her heart.” 

“What?” 

That boy really is stupid. 

“No, then he realized she was mean to me, so he apologized.” 

She then pinches her lips, avoiding my eyes. I nudge her elbow with mine. 

“What?” 

“He said I’m much nicer than her, at least.” 

“Really? That’s good!” 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, let the week end cool things off. You’ll see what he thinks on Monday.” 

“You’re right.” 

We both look at our feet's, her guitar getting in my way. 

“Your parents will be here in thirty minutes.” 

“Oh!” She startled, jumping to her feet. “I should get ready!” 

“Yeah.” 

I know as I watch her pack her things that this like every week end, she’ll be back Sunday night. But I can’t help but wonder how many more time she will leave and come back. One day is going to be the last day she leaves. 

When she politely makes me understand that I’m in her way in that tiny bedroom, I exit and go do some laundry. 

Thirty minutes later, Mary knocks on my door. 

“Mom!” Deb exclaims when I open the door.  

She goes straight in her arms, Mary smiling widely as she hugs her daughter back. 

“Hi sweetie. Hi Reputation! How are you girls?” 

“Great!” Deb exclaims. “I’ll go get my bag.” 

“Oh, okay...” 

Deb leaves back to her room as quickly as she has appeared. We both laugh, as I show her to the kitchen where she sits on a stool. 

“How was your week?” She asks. 

“Great. What can I offer you?” 

“Oh, just a glass of water, don’t worry.” I hand her a glass of water and sit in front of her. “You seem good! Any news with that record company you told me about?” 

“Oh, actually it’s a trap. We wouldn’t own anything.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I know how much it matters to you to get signed.” 

“Yeah, you know. It’s the next big step. I won’t quit my job, don’t get me wrong but... I’m not going to sit around, waiting table for the rest of my life.” 

“Of course not. But you do concerts, sometimes, don’t you?” 

“Yeah, but not enough to pay rent. The rest of the band want to sign the contract but I told them no. But some of them live of the music and... we don’t get much. I don’t know how they do it so... maybe we should sign, get what we can.” 

“The easy solution isn’t always the best.” she wisely says. 

“Yeah, I know.” 

I sip on my own glass of water, hearing Deb packing her stuff in her room. 

“Look, Reputation. You’re not going to like this. But I had your mother on the phone.” 

I frown. What? Since when does she talk to my mother? I don’t even talk to my mother. 

“Your grandma passed away. She’s having a funeral this week end. She only asked me to tell you about it but... she misses you. She wants to see you.” 

“She called you?” 

“No, I called her.” 

“You called my mother!?” 

“I’ve been calling your mother regularly, Repuation. Let her know how you are.” 

“What!?” 

I get up from my stool, anger starting to rise in my blood. 

“She worries. And if I stopped seeing Deb for whatever reason, I would have liked someone to tell me about her life. She loves you still, Reputation. She just... she’s had a very hard life. And her mother just died. She’s still your family.” 

“You’re my family!” I shout. “She left me the moment I was kind of independent. I never had her in my life. I barely call her.” 

“It’s never too late to recontact.” 

I start pacing in disbelief for my mother’s nerve! 

“But... she wants me to fly halfway across the country to see her when she would never do the same? I don’t even have to money for the flight!” 

“I can pay for your tickets and...” 

“No! You’ve been helping me too much, Mary. You don’t have to give me money anymore.” 

“I care about you Reputation. I’ll give you money if I want too. And I care about your mother. You deserve a mother and she deserves forgivness. You deserve a decent parent. And she is one now.” 

“She has not been one when it mattered.” 

“I know.” 

Of course she knows. She’s the one who would host me when I flee my house. I lean against the counter, arms crossed.

“But she’s just lost her own mother. She needs family now.” 

“And I lost mine when she decided to move away and not engage in any contact whatsoever. It’s decided. I’m not going. Even if I wanted to, I can’t afford it.” 

She then turns her eyes to pity.  

“Honey. I’ve already bought the tickets.” She puts on the table an envelope between us. “If you don’t want to use them, I’ll understand. But you would have wasted my money.” 

She smirks, knowing exactly what she just did. 

“You’re evil.” 

“I know.” 

She smiles, but then gets up as well and come take me in her arms. I’m a bit taller than her. 

“She didn’t want me to ask you to come. She just wanted you to know, and to do what you wanted. But she does wants to see you. It’s about if you want to see her.” 

I haven’t seen her in years now. 

“You ready, mom?” 

We both turn to Deb, standing in the entryway. 

“Yes. Let’s go.” 

I accompany them to the door. Deb waves at me, as her mother says “See you on Sunday.” 

“Bye Rep!” 

I smile and wave. 

“Bye Deb.” 

Chapter Text

Debut  

She can't see the way your eyes  

Light up when you smile  

She'll never notice how you stop and stare  

Whenever she walks by  

And you can't see me wanting you the way you want her   

But you are everything to me  

And I just wanna show you   

She don't even know you   

She's never gonna love you like I want to   

And you just see right through me   

But if you only knew me   

We could be a beautiful miracle, unbelievable   

Instead of just invisible  

Thursday 9th May  

“So, who’s Jessica?” Rep asks when she drops me off the next day, as she promised, in front of the crowded school.  

I turn around to face her, after taking off the helmet and handing it to her.  

“No, come on Rep, it’s okay.” I say, trying to calm her down.  

“No, it’s not. She disrespected you.”  

“Look around, Rep. Everyone thinks I’m super cool. It’s revenge enough.”  

It’s quite impossible to miss the gazes of the mesmerized students around, looking at us. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with a motorbike around high school so, I’m a first.  

“Deb! Is that yours?”  

I startle, looking behind me, my heart racing. Oh my god. It’s Drew.  

“Hi, Drew… It’s… It’s my sister’s.” I explain, stuttering.  

“It’s so cool! What kind of engine is this?” He asks, looking down at the tires and the different pieces like he knows anything about bike.  

“Too powerful for your little muscle, boy.” Rep says. “I guess I should let you, Deb. I’ll come back at 4 to get you.”  

My eyes widen. She only agreed to come drop me, not take me back. She’s so amazing. I’m so lucky.  

“Really! Thank you.”  

I jump in her arms, squeezing like my life depends on it, and she whispers in my ear so Drew cannot hear “Don’t forget he didn’t say anything yesterday.”  

“Thank you!” I repeat.  

I go to give her the protective leather jacket but she pushes it back in my hands.  

“The jacket is really cool, Deb.” she winks at me.  

She climbs back on the bike, putting her helmet on and with a last wave, she drives away, making the engine groan more than necessary. I smile, clunching the jacket, before turning back to Drew.  

“We should go” I say.  

I start walking ahead, because I can’t be the girl who accept talking to him just because he talks to me, when he indeed didn’t say anything yesterday. I spot Speak Now and Fearless by the doors, so I go to them, and just before I reach them, he catches up with me.  

“Look, Deb I really wanted to...” he starts.  

“Get lost, Drew.” Lessie says the moment I’m next to her. She takes my arm and pulls me away inside the building.   

“But...” he says from behind us.  

I watch back, kind of hopelessly because I would have like to hear his apology but Lessie is too strong.  

“Was that planned?” She asks, leaning in. “Why didn’t you told me you weren’t taking the bus?”  

Right, I'm supposed to be with her on the bus! What kind of friend am I?  

“Oh, right, I forgot. I’m sorry.” I apologize.  “Did I look cool, though?” I ask, leaning in to my two friends.  

“The coolest.” Speak Now says with a smile.  

°°°  

Drew tries to come and talk to me again just before we’re about to go into class. But Fearless pulls me away to my seat and he goes to his, at the far end of the class, probably too afraid by Lessie to argueè. Then, during the next period he sits two rows behind me, and tries to initiate contact, but this time it’s the teacher that cuts him off. I wish I could hear what he has to say, honestly, but Lessie keeps throwing knife at him with her gaze. Then lunch times rolls around.  

The meal is atrocious, as always. We go with our tray outside to enjoy the rays of sunshine that comes with the summer, balancing the disgusting food they serve.  

“I can’t believe they serve that. Like, isn’t there supposed to be a chef, there? Are they even tasting their food?” wonders Lessie as we sit on a bench.  

“Yeah, you would believe after years of complaint they understood.” I answer, picking at the vegetables with my fork.  

We don’t eat much, but peacefully talk about thing and other. I’m in the middle of passionately explaining to Fearless how playing the guitar works, mimicking in the air the way I move my finger.  

“Hey, Deb, can I talk to you?”;  

I look up, startled. It’s Drew, shadowing the sun with his head in front of me. Finally, I think.  

“No.” Lessie answers for me.  

“Please, Deb.” He says, looking at me, ignoring Fearless. “I really want to apologize for Jessica. She was being really mean and you didn’t deserve that. I care about you.”  

“You should have said something yesterday then. Get lost.” Lessie adds.  

I look down at my half empty plate because he can’t have it too easy either.   

“Please, Deb. I swear I didn’t...”  

“Are you deaf? Leave her alone.” Lessie exclaims.  

“It’s okay.” I say.  

I put my tray aside and get up.  

“Deb!” Lessie exclaims.  

“It’s okay” I repeat. “He wants to apologize.”  

She can’t keep him from apologizing the whole day. He seems relieved, so I follow him farther, out of earshot.  

“Look Deb” he starts.  

“I was really hurt, yesterday.” I cut him off. “You let her humiliate me and didn’t say anything. And I know we’re not espacially friends, but still i...”  

“Of course we’re friends! I care about you more than just because of my homework, Deb. And she was being very mean and you didn’t deserve that.”  

“Why do you like her so much? She’s not a good person!”  

“She’s... I don’t know, I... I mean, you can’t really control your crushes, right?”  

Oh, if he knew, I think.  

“I guess.” I say casually.  

“But she didn’t had to talk about you like that. And... I mean, I don’t beleive her, you know.”  

“About?”  

“About you having a crush on me.” he laughs awkwardly.  

I feel red heat up my cheeks as fast  

“What? Yeah of course I don’t. That’s... stupid.” I say, trying to act cool to hide my obvious embarrassment.   

“Anyway, I really need you for my grades.” He says cluelessly. “And with the exam next week...”  

It’s now or never, I think. Rep voice resonate in my head.  

“Do-you-want-to-come-revise-at-mine?” I say in one word, so hurriedly that I can see by the face he’s making after I just said it, he didn’t understand.  

“Revise?” he asks.  

“Yeah. I mean, apology accepted.” I say casually, wiping my hand in the air nonchalently. “So, as if I'm so important about your grades, do you want to come revise next weeks exam at mine. The library closes early and...”  

“Yeah!” He exclaims with excitement. “That would be so cool! Thank you Deb!”  

“Tonight?”  

“Totally. But isn’t your sister coming to get you?”  

I sigh in frustation.  

“Oh right. Well, I can text her I’ll take the bus.”  

“Cool. Thank you again, Deb.”  

“No problem.” I say smiling.   

Silence grows for a few second between us, before he casually speak. “Well... I guess I’ll see you in class?”  

“Yeah, great.” I say, stills smiling. Actually, I think I’m incapable of stopping my smile.  

We awkwardly smile for a few more second, as he leaves back inside the building. I linger, watching him from afar, and then join Speak and Lessie.  

“How did it go?” Lessie asks, still obviously annoyed.  

“He apologized...” I say, sitting down, but my smile let’s much on.  

“And?” Speak pushes.  

“He agreed to come revise at mine tonight!” I admit excitedly.  

Fearless’s face decompose.  

“What?!” she shouts.  

“It’s good!” I explain. “And he apologized, recognizing that I am essential for his school work.”  

“You... you still asked him to come to yours?!”  

“Yes! That’s what I wanted.”   

“You should have dumped him!” Lessie shouts.  

Fearless face start turning to red, but not in embarrassment like mine minutes before, but in anger.  

“He apologized!” Speak says to our friend. “Why are you so upset? He did the right thing.”  

“He... he’s an asshole!” Lessie exclaims. “Why am I the only one seeing this? I can’t believe you don’t have my back on this!” She adds, looking at Speak.  

Then he hits me. All this hate, all this sneering comment...  

“Are you jealous?” I ask.  

“Oh! As if!” She shouts, getting up like I’m just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. Which, I realize now, I might have just said. “I just want the best for you and you’ll realize he is not that. Anyway, I’m out of here. See you in class.”  

It’s on heavy footsteps that she enters the building with her half-finished tray.  

“She’s so intense!” I say, almost as mad at her as she’s mad at Drew. Why does she want to ruin this for me?  

“Yeah. We should probably go too. Come on.”  

She stands up and I follow her inside, and when we get to the cleaning station, Speak turns to me.  

“I think it’s cool if he’s coming to yours. You’ll tell us how it went, right?”  

“Of course!” I say, my smile back at the mere thought of him coming over.  

I smile as I leave the tray on the rail.  

When we get to the class Fearless is still sluking, leaning against the wall of the corridor.  Before we can even join her to explain ourselves, we’re being informed that our afternoon teacher is absent today.   

“Deb!”  

I turn around, away from Fearless that I can see is looking at me.  

“It’s perfect. We can get to yours in advance and have more work done, right?” Drew asks, meeting up with me.  

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go. Bye Speak.”  

She waves back, smiling politely and I follow Drew outside. I’m walking toward the bus station when he catches my elbow.  

“I have my truck, Deb. Come on, give me your address.”  

I smile and follow him on light step to his truck. It’s a very... masculine machine. All metal and tires and massive pieces. The bottom of the door is at my mid-thigh's level. After I’ve haul myself in the passenger seat I give him Rep’s address.  

“So cool having your own car.” I casually remark, tracing the hem of the window with my finger. It’s quite cozy inside, actually. There’s a little tree perfume attached to the mirror, making it smell like my grandma’s car, and CDs are piled up in the glove box.  

“You don’t have one?” he asks while he starts driving into traffic.  

“No. I do have my driver license, but the car is too expensive for now.”  

“I get it. This was a gift. I can’t afford it by myself.”  

I take a few CDs to compare what he’s listening to. Old rock albums, some new pop and...  

“You listen to Tim McGraw?!” I exclaim, holding his Everywhere album in my hand.  

“You too?” He asks turning his head to me. “I love Tim McGraw!”  

“I... Yes! It was my father CD but when I got a stereo system in my room, I would steal it and blast it at full volume for days in a row.”  

“Well come on, put it on!”  

He starts middling with the buttons of his radio until another CD comes out, that I take and exchange with the Tim McGraw one. While it’s charging, I search the box of the other CD, and put everything back in the glove box. Then I press play.  

Where The Green Grass Grows first very country riff starts playing, and when he starts singing, we both go with his voice. At some point during the song Drew opened my window and I dance, moving my hand in rhythm with the fresh air slapping my hair.  

We both laughs when the song ends and the next one starts playing.  

“Your dad has really good taste.” He states grinning wildely.  

“And I have excellent taste.”  

I look at him, and then we burst out laughing again. When we get to Rep’s building, we’ve almost finished the album. We stay in the turn off car for two more songs, before I shake my head.  

“That was so fun.” He says, hands on the steering weel.  

“Yes. But we have to work. Come on.”  

I jump off the car, and lead him to the door of the building while he closes the car. Then we both go up the stairs.  

“I hope you have a speaker so we can listen to that while working.”  

“We won’t work if we start listening to that.” I bring him back to earth.  

“Yeah, but it would make working more fun.”  

“Because we won’t be doing any.”  

We laugh, and then finally reach Rep’s floor. Then I realise the door of her appartment is open. There’s Jack, her bandmate in the way and she’s talking with him until she realizes I'm here.  

“What… What are you doing here?” she asks, confused. I can see Jack looking between the two of.  

“Oh, one of our teachers was absent. But we’re just going to revise. Hi Jack!” I greet him.  

She looks behind me, then back at me, a bit suspicious. I try to smile reassuringly.  

“Okay… Well, I have practice with the band, so…” she says.  

“Okay. I’ll see you later, then. Come on, Drew.”  

I take his hand, daring like I've never been, and drag him across the flat to my room, as fast as I can before Rep can make a mean comment about him – or the situation. Because I’m sure she’s in Fearless side about Drew.  

“Your sister’s in a band? That’s so cool!”  

“Yeah” I say, sitting down on my bed then starting to pull my notebook from my bag. I hear the door closing.  

He takes a look around the room, to the pictures I’ve hung on the wall, to the little fairy lights above my headboard.  

“You play that?” He asks, going straight to my guitar in the corner.  

“Oh, yeah, that was Rep’s gift last christmas, actually and...”  

“Is that a song you’re writing?”  

He points to the paper I left on my desk this morning, where I know there’s his name written all over. I jump up, dread crawling up my spine, to take it before he can read it.  

“No, actually that’s nothing. Let’s get to work, shall we?”  

He looks a little suspicious, but says nothing else and sit at my desk where I point the seat. I turn around, pretending to search for something in my bag to hide the redness in my cheeks.  

“You should show me, one day.”  

“What?” I ask, my back still to him.  

“The guitar.”  

“Oh, right. We have to get to work, though.”  

I sit back in the bed, my head down on the papers in my lap, grateful for my curly thick blond hair that hides most of my face.  

He actually listens this time, and sits back down. The school, academic conversation makes it easier to cool down my face and after ten minutes of working, I can actually look at him in the eyes. We go over the whole subject once in an hour, before he starts getting bored.  

“You’re such a great friend” he states, playing with the stress ball on my desk, throwing it up and down in his hands. “I’m sure you could help me with more than just work, you know.”  

“What do you mean?” I ask distantly, looking over at some question in the textbook.  

“Well, I’m sure you have amazing advice about how girls work. I mean, I’ve been wanting to get with Jessica for so long now, it’s not even funny anymore.”  

I look up, frowning.  

“You want me to give advice about how to date Jessica?”  

“Yeah! You’re so smart it would be... Oh.” he then realizes. “Right, she... Sorry. She’s was being a bitch to you, I shouldn’t... I shouldn’t even care about her. Sorry.”  

“It’s okay.” I look back down, feeling as if a hole had been drilled down my heart.  

He keeps playing with the ball, until his phone rings. He takes it out of his pocket, watching the messages he just got.  

“Oh shit. I gotta go. My mom’s waiting for me at home.”  

“Oh,” I say, getting up. “I mean, it’s quite late, you should go, yes.”  

“Can I... I really wanna hear play some guitar.”  

I smile.  

“I don’t think I have your number. Could you...”  

He hands me his phone, so I take it, trying my hardest to play it cool, and enter my number in it.  

“Okay, thanks for everything. No don’t worry, keep working!” he adds when I’m getting up. “I know the way, I’ll just close the door on the way out. See you tomorrow, Deb.”  

“Okay...” I say, mesmerized, smiling like an idiot because he just asked for my number.  

Then in seconds he is out the door of my room, then of the appartement. And I do not go back to working. In fact I go back in my bed, giggling.  

Chapter Text

Red

What do you say?   

When tears are streaming down your face   

In front of everyone you know   

And what do you do?   

When the one who means the most to you   

Is the one who didn't show?  

You should've been here   

And I would've been so happy  

Saturday May 11 th .  

Everything’s perfect. Kam has let me leave work early yesterday in promise that I would get booze on the grocery shopping for the party. Which I didn’t. I did buy wine, but not tequila lime, like he requested.   

I decorated Jake’s place with all my heart, because He was on a business trip the last two days, so I was all alone to do whatever my heart pleased. He was supposed to be back today, in time for the party, as I’ve made him promised a hundred time. He said he might be running a little late, but that would just be him making an entrance to his own party, so.  

I wasn’t pleased with the idea of him leaving the same week end I planned weeks ago to which he agreed to book. But life happens, so I keep reminding myself not to hold it against him. He’s a busy man.  

So, I put up candles, red balloons – for obvious reasons – crisps and candies on the coffee table. The windows are flung open because the air had been so hot these last few days the chill air from the evening is a reward. Summer is not my season.  

I played some record from his record player, waiting for the first guest – which I hope is my boyfriend – as I start pouring the wine in cups. I mean to switch to a regular aux eventually, but I like the sound of the vinyl.  

I put on my favorite red dress. I’m careful not to spill wine all over me, because I don’t have a change. I watch the clock, before putting the bottle of wine back in the fridge. Then I check my phone. He’s late but hasn’t sent me anything. It’s annoying, he could at least let me know. This all night is about him.  

I get the tiny carrots and cream sauce out of the fridge to the coffee table as well. Maybe that will make him come. Then I sit on the couch, taking a tiny carrot, tapping my foot on the floor.   

I don’t even have time to think about him that the door burst open.  

I jump to my feet – that I have wrapped in my finest heels – my carrot still in hands, only to see Kam.  

“Eating already, girl? You’re supposed to wait for the guests for that.”  

I breathe out the air I was holding, my heart still racing.  

“I’m anxious, shut up.” I say, eating the carrot. “What are you doing here now?”  

I go hug him.  

“I told you I’ll be there early to help you prepare.”  

“And I told you I had it under control.”  

“And I needed to drop this off in the fridge.”  

He reaches in his bag, and gets two bottles of tequila from it. I tilt my head, disappointed.  

“You’re serious?”  

“Yeah! I need that to survive the night, hon’.”  

He helps himself to the fridge  

“I told you... Never mind.” I sigh.  

There is no way to change Kam’s mind when he made a decision.  

“You finally get it.”  

“Don’t offer it to the other guests, though.”  

He clears his throat guiltily.  

“Yeah. I won’t be monitoring the fridge, though.” he says, closing the door.  

I shake my head, and go back to my sofa.  

“What? What’s wrong?” he asks empathetically, when he sees me eating my tiny carrot, crouched down on the sofa. He comes to sit down next to me, putting his hand on my thigh.  

“He was supposed to be home an hour ago, and he hasn’t sent anything.”  

“Oh... He’ll make it, I’m sure.” he says enthusiastically.  

“Yeah. I hope.”  

“Come on, Red! This night is for us to meet him! Of course he’ll come. Don’t worry. Let’s make some punch.”  

He gets up to go back to the kitchen.  

“I told you...”  

“Red. It’s a party. The people will want punch.”  

“You only brought tequila.”  

“That’s massively underestimating me.”  

He pulls out from his bag another bottle.  

“You’re unbelievable.”  

“I am.”  

He then searches in the cupboard like he’s at home, a big enough bowl to put the punch in, and then proceed to stir and mix the rhum with the juices he also brought.  

“Here.” I say, handing him ice cubes from the freezer.  

“Now you got the spirit.”  

He pours them in, then takes one of the wine glasses I brought out for the wine and emerge it in the punch. Then, with the juice running down the stem, he hands it to me.  

“That’s disgusting.” I say, not taking the glass.  

“Fine. Do you have a ladle?”  

He takes a bit of absorbent paper to clean the glass, while I go find him a ladle. With the right utensil he pours some punch in a second glass and pushes it toward me.  

“Let's toast.”  

I shake my head, but take the clean glass and clink it with his, smiling.  

“He’ll come.” he says about an hour later, stretching each word after a third glass, many tipsy sense-less conversations and still no sign of Jake in the apartment or on my phone.  

“You don’t know that.” I say, slouched down on the counter that we haven’t left. The punch is now down to half the bowl.  

“I do. If he loves you the way you love him - and I know how much thanks to how much you talk about him – he'll come.”  

“What do you know about love, anyway.” I slur. I realize a second later that it might be a bit mean, but I’m quite tipsy by now, and on an empty stomach – if you don’t count the single carrot I had.  

“Well, you’ll be happy to know I have a boyfriend.”  

My brows shot up.  

“What?”  

“Yeah. He’s name is Jan.”  

“Yan?”  

“With a J. He’s Slovenian.”  

“Where did you meet him?” I ask, genuinely curious.  

“Don’t ask question you don’t want to know the answer to.”  

Yeah. That either means a shady club or a dating app.  

“Since when?” I ask instead.  

“Little more than three weeks now.” he says, quite proudly.  

“Really? Why didn’t you tell me!” I exclaim, hitting his arm.  

“I wanted to be sure about him.” he smiles.   

“When do I meet him?”   

He laughs awkwardly.  

“Well, it might be sooner than you thought.”  

“What do you mean?”  

He clears his throat, fidgeting with his glass.  

“I... I may have invited him tonight.”  

“What?!” I exclaim, standing up.  

“But he’s cool, I swear! And since this is like a meet-and-greet for boyfriends, he’s right in the theme.”  

“I can’t believe it! You can’t invite people in my boyfriend's home just because you’re my friend!”  

“Please, don’t be mad. I love you, and you love me. You know I wouldn’t bring someone weird here.”  

Annoyance is still rising in my belly, though. But I can trust him for once, I guess.  

“Still, this is shady! You should have asked me.”  

“I know. I’m sorry.”  

The door suddenly burst open, and Nathalie storms inside.  

“Hi beauty! Where’s the fine piece of ass you’ve talking about for so long?”  

Behind her are all my other uni friends, with shopping bag in their hands, cheering to come in. Kevin, Tori, Amanda, Audrey, Syndey, Whyley, all coming in at the same time like the storm I’ve been with since my first year at uni. Nathalie comes straight to kiss me, as the others wait in line, greeting Kam as well.  

“Oh, he’s not here yet,” I say, feeling tears at the back of my eyes. I can’t cry now. He’s coming, I know it. But it just feels horrible, to greet guests that came for something here, and not have it. “But he’s coming very shortly.”  

“Great. Where can I put that?”  

Kam makes a sign to her, and lead her to the fridge as I help the other to take off their coats and put them in the bedroom.   

Everyone pours themselves some punch from the half empty bowl, or some wine that I brought out on the table, along with the appetizers. Everyone’s chatting, and drinking and eating, but I feel like in a bubble. Like each minute that passes where my phone doesn’t ring, or the door doesn’t open thickens a fog in my head. The drinks might be guilty for this as well.  

As the 4 numbers on my phone run fast, I quickly change from the vinyls to the speaker, and then at some point where the numbers are past 11, Kam take the shots out, and I drink three.   

“Where’s your boyfriend again? Weren’t we suppose to meet him?” Audrey asks.  

“I promise you; he’s coming he...”  

The door opens.  

I jump up looking back.  

“Jan!” Kam screams when a total stranger comes in.  

“Hi everyone!” Jan says.  

I go with him, to greet him, my heart shattered in a million pieces.  

“Red, this is Jan, that I told you about...”  

He keeps talking. I know, because I hear him. But I cannot listen. I only stare, feeling the tears in the back of my eyes closer and closer to my lids.  

He promised is the only thing my drunk brain can think of. He promised.  

I’m not sure if Kam has finished his talk about whatever he was talking about, but I leave them and go find my phone. On my calls screen, Jake’s name fills the entire screen. I search in my contact for one of his colleagues I met already. Maybe something happened to him.   

I hide in my room. I can hear the ring. Once. Twice. Then a screaming voice answer.  

“Yes?”  

I can heart music behind him, and talking.  

“Oh! Oh my god. I’m sorry to call so late. Is Jake alright? He doesn’t answer and he was supposed to...”  

“What?”  

“Jake?” I scream louder. “Is jake alright?”  

“Jake? Yeah, he’s here with me.”  

“What?” I whisper.  

They are obviously in a club. I can tell.  

“Why... he was supposed to...” I stutter.  

“Yeah, we got stuck because of work. His phone died hours ago and he forgot his charger. Do you want to talk to him or...”  

“No!” I shout back. “No, it’s okay.” I’m already the annoying girlfriend calling his colleague to know where my boyfriend is. Boyfriend for whom I organized a whole night, but couldn’t make it. “Tell him to text me when he can. Bye.”  

I hung up before he can add anything.  

Then the tears fall down on my neatly made make up. And on my red dress, staining it a darker shade. And then I fall to my feet, because what I was most afraid of just happened.  

°°°  

I have seventeen missed calls when I wake up the next morning around 12, alone in his big bed.  

I drank even more after I remember trying to call him, then I remember vomiting, and the only thing that make sense when I wake, with no memories of the time I got to bed, is his name on my screen. I ignore it.  

I drag myself out of bed with the worst headache ever. Everyone went home apparently, because there’s no one in my living room, and to my great surprise, everything is cleaned up. I spot a not on the fridge that I haven’t put here.   

I cleaned for you and hold your hair up when you puked, you owe me one.   

You should leave the bastard.   

Xoxo Kam  

I rub my eyes and sit on a stool.  

He promised and didn’t come.  

I pour myself some water, then make a breakfast, my head pounding. I put a silly show on, to pass time on this sunday morning. I don’t even feel like crying. I feel mad. Like boiling rage mad. Red mad.  

I put my hair up with and elastic, the strand falling in my bowl, only to realize that I really need a shower.  

Keys juggle in the lock.  

I look up, rubbing my eyes, as the door open, and Jake himself enters.  

Now I wanna cry.  

“Hi baby”, he says, putting down his suitcase and keys.  

“The party was yesterday.”

I don’t look at him, but straight at my bowl, fidgeting with the cereals.  

“I know, I’m sorry. I got stuck back there, and my phone died and...”  

“And you just thought not reaching out to me and go clubbing was the way to deal with this?”  

“What?”  He asks, a fake confused look on his face. “I didn’t...”  

“I was so worried, Jake!” I say, standing up. “And you made me look like a fool in front all of my fucking friends!”  

“Don’t shout at me, Red. I had work, I can’t control it.”  

“You promised, and instead you went clubbing!”  

I know what I heard on the other side of the line, yesterday.

“First,” he shouts, as anger as me “You don’t talk to me like that. And secondly, I didn’t go clubbing, I was at a colleague’s appartement, having a drink.”  

“Yeah, of course. Bullshit, Jake. But wherever you were, you should have called me!”  

“I couldn’t! My phone died!”  

“And your friends don’t have phones? You could have reach out, one way or another! I was mad worried.”  

“I was fine, come on.”  

He shrugs away my concern with his hands, going to the windows, openning them up.  

“It stinks in here. Didn’t you clean after your party?”  

“My party?” I yell in disbelief. “ My party? It was for you! All of last night was for you!”  

“Yeah, and I’m sorry, Red. I’m sorry, okay. I had work and I couldn’t make it.”  

“You promised!”  

That’s it, I’m crying. He turns around, realizing it.  

“Oh no, come on baby, don’t cry. You had a fun night, and I was out there working.”  

“It wasn’t fun without you.” I sob, crying uglily in my sweatshirt.

He comes to me and takes my hand away from my eyes.  

“I don’t wanna fight, baby. I’m sorry. I’ll planned a party and I’ll invite your friend's next time. I’m very sorry. I should’ve contacted you. I’m sorry.”  

He pulls me in his arms and I am a weak woman, because as he holds me tight, all my anger melts away like ice in the sun.  

Chapter Text

Evermore

Este's a friend of mine 
We meet up every Tuesday night for dinner and a glass of wine 
Este's been losing sleep 
Her husband's acting different and it smells like infidelity 
She says, "That ain't my merlot on his mouth" 
"That ain't my jewelry on our joint account" 
No, there ain't no doubt 
I think I'm gonna call him out 

Wednesday May 8th 

Este was quite shaken by the whole situation, to be honest. That night mom had had made the most recomforting dinner she could think of – Mac & cheese. We ate, the three of us around the silent table. She was quite obviously still mad at me, and I wasn’t going to be one to apologized. Este had her own problem to think of but Lorie, she was in an embarrassing situation, trying to make small talk, but it died after the third try. 

Mom didn’t ask any details about Este situation, which is a miracle in itself because she loves gossips. So, after filling up our bellies, we made our way to the living room, and mom left, saying she was meeting with friends at the town bar. I’m sure she’s leaving because I asked her not to include herself in this and she’s just frustrated. But she’s a grown woman. She’ll get over it. 

“So, you have a plan?” Este’s ask as soon as the front door slams shut. 

I’ve read enough polars to know plenty of option about all of this. Este is sitting on the couch, across from Lorie on one of the armchairs with her leg resting beneath her body. I make my way to the kitchen, connected by an open arch to the living room and start the kettle on the counter.  

“It depends.” I say, still thinking, getting cups and sugar out of the cupboards. 

“On what?” Este asks from the other room. 

I put the last cup down a little two strongly. 

“How far you want to go.” 

I find the little box of tea and put them on the tray as well. A few seconds later the kettle stops. I bring everything back to the living room and put it on the coffee table.  

“But first, we’ll go to your house.” I say as I pour water in all three cups. “We’ll find evidence there. We need evidence. And then, we’ll get him on the spot.” I hand her one of the cups with the tea bag in it. “Are you planning divorce?” 

“Yes.” She doesn’t hesitate one second. “And I want everything.” 

I can see in her determination a mad glow, twin to mine that I sometime think will one day make me do something stupid. I hand Lorie another cup, and take the last one, then go sit next to Este. 

“We can make that happen. You cannot let him know you suspect something, or he’ll make it twice as hard to prove it. You haven’t been gone long enough for it to be suspicious. When he asks, tell him you had to join me because my mom had a problem.” 

“He hasn’t called yet.” 

I exchange a look with Lorie. What a piece of shit. 

Este checks the time on her phone. “He should have realized I’m not home, right? He’s probably with her.” 

“Send him a text anyway. You know his working hours, right? We’ll have to find evidence in your house. And in his phone. We’ll need access to his phone.” 

“He works from nine to five every day. But recently he’s been coming home later and later. And I think I can probably hide his phone.” 

I turn to my sister. “Is it okay if I leave you here, Lorie? We should go back on Friday, so that he’s still working when we go through your house.” 

“No, it’s okay. Maybe I’ll come back with you. Lover needs me.” 

I sigh. “Well, we’ll have to break it to mom.” 

“What do we do in the mean time?” Este asks innocently. 

“Relax and enjoy those few days.” I say, sipping from my tea. “The worst is to come.” 

°°° 

I lie wide awake in my bed later, unable to find sleep.  

I hate men.  

I hate Este’s husband with all the rage in my body because Este, she is... she is a good person. And does not deserve a man like that. He was lucky to find her, to love her and to marry her. And instead of loving her fully and wholeheartedly, he cheats on her. Men always turn out a disappointment.  

We can make him pay. I know how all of this works. I read thriller for a living. We could make it look a lot worse than it actually is. And then... he would lose everything and Este... she would get everything.  

But for him to do this in the first place? I just can’t wrap my head around why. I’ve always known him as a good man, kind, affectionate. Funny, even. I know Este is right. I have to believe her. And whatever were my feelings for that man, they all turned negative now. But I never thought that he could do that. 

I turn to the side, sick of the view of the ceiling, toward the sea piercing through my window.  

I can do this before I leave. I can make this right and then take the job in Seattle in august. Este doesn't know either that I’m planning on leaving. It is my burden only, bearing on my heart everywhere I move. I’ve only talked about it to Poet, a friend at the publishing agency. I thought I would been better after I did. I didn’t. It feels at the same time the right and worse thing to do.  

But the worst part won’t last, I know that for sure. I will be okay. And Este will be okay once we take care of that, and I know Lorie will too. Although, on Lorie’s part, at least I hope so.

And even though I couldn't fix my relationship - or just accepted it, because nothing needed to be fixed, actually, I can fix this.

°°° 

Unlike as I suggested, Este does not enjoy and relax the few days. She is incapable of staying in place, checking her phone every two minutes. I try to take her to the beach but she’s not with me. Her ass is on the sand and there is a book between her hands but I just know she doesn’t read it and her mind is on all the women from her husband life she has ever seen, trying to decide which one it is. We also go walking around the market but there’s nothing that help her relax.  

On Thursday night, mom still hasn’t talked to me. Lorie and Este are asleep when I get up to make myself an herbal tea to calm my nerves for tomorrow's investigation. And when I get to the kitchen, I stumble on Mom pouring herself some brandy. She looks up to see who it is but doesn’t acknowledge my presence once she realized it is me. 

“So, we’re leaving tomorrow.” I say to break the ice. 

She clears her throat. 

“I know, you sister told me.” 

“Thank you. For having us.” 

She tenses on her glass. I keep my back turned to her, boiling the kettle.  

“Oh, but you’re very welcome. That was a charming few days.” 

“Mom.” 

She takes a loud sip from her brandy.  

“Oh no, I mean it. It was delightful.” 

“Mom you just... Can’t you be wrong once in your fucking life?” 

“Don't swear at me, young girl. Not under my roof, not when I invited you.” 

The kettle stops. I pour the water in a mug, the sound of water filling the silence. Then I put a teabag in it. 

“I take it you won’t see us off tomorrow?” 

“I have an appointment in town.” 

I sigh. 

“Fine. Then this is goodbye.” I take my mug and leave the room. She doesn’t even answer.  

I ask Gracie the next morning if mom has left yet. She’s supposedly still asleep, according to her. So, without a proper farewell all three of us take our bags to my car and we leave. 

We do the three hour and a half ride back to our appartement where we leave Lorie that says is going to go see Lover.  

“Come on, let’s not waste time” I say once I’ve unpacked to Este in my sofa, her suitcase sitting at her feet.  

She looks up at me, eyes still puffy. 

“I don’t think I can do this.” she whispers, her voice broken. 

I go sit next to her. 

“Do you want me to?” 

She looks up. 

“Yes.” she’s determined. “But I can't... I can’t go and find evidence of his cheating myself. I would... I can’t.' 

“You stay here. I’ll go.” 

She reaches in her pockets and extract her keys. I take them, then I see Lorie’s polaroid on the coffee table next to the sofa. She put it here for decoration a while ago but I’m going to need it. 

“We’ll make him pay, Este.” 

I squeeze her hand and get back up towards the door.  

“Thank you.” she whispers as I leave, polaroid on the bag with her house keys.  

My first stop is at an antique photography shop to find films for the camera. When I get that, I go get something to eat and watches from my car while eating the building where her husband works. It’s almost lunch time. I wait two hours, but I am not lucky enough to see him leave with a woman on his arm. So, I go to their house. 

They live in a suburb outside of manhattan. They got quite the nice house, with a garden and a SUV that I already spotted at his work building. They just miss the kids and the dog to really dig into the cliche. I carefully open the door, then stop the alarm. Their house smell of freshly used cleaning product. They have a cleaning lady coming in every week. Everything is right on place. The sofa pillows are evened, the floor is immaculate and there’s not a drop of dust on the furniture.  

I open the fridge. Nothing out of the ordinary. I inspect the sofa, but nothing could give away the presence of a second woman here. I climb the stair to go to their room. The sheets smell like Este. Nothing out of the ordinary in the drawer of the night table. I open their wardrobe and inspect every one of his clothes. There must be something. They always leave traces. Always. When it’s inconclusive I search the dirty clothe basket, going through his pants pockets. And when I start thinking maybe he is better at hiding it as I thought, I find in the very bottom of the basket a white shirt with a very light trace of red on the collar. It’s so light it seems pink, and there’s barely a half centimeter mark. But it’s here. 

I take the polaroid out and take a picture with it. Then I take the shirt to the bathroom. I search for hairs on the brushes, make up that Este doesn’t wear or earrings the woman could have forgot. But I doubt they do it at the house. But what I don’t find is a lipstick matching the red on the shirt. 

At least now it is certain he is cheating. I put the shirt back where I found it.  

This is not enough, and I doubt there will be more. We need to push him to be careless. That trip he booked Este for her birthday is the perfect time. 

I call Este to tell her to meet me at a coffee shop not too far away from my appartement I go too sometime.  

“Did you find anything?” 

“I’ll explain when we’re there, Este.” 

She sighs in frustration but finally says okay and hung up. 

“Rip it off, Eve.” she asks when I sit at her table in the small red coffee shop. 

I sigh, but take the picture out of my bag and put it in front of her.  

“You don’t wear lipstick like that, do you?” 

She watches the red, her hands clutching to the picture, knuckles turning white.  

“No.” 

When she looks back up, it’s rage that I see in her eyes. 

“But I don’t think she’s ever been at your house, Este. Now, if you want to make him pay, you can’t let him know you know. And then we’ll make him careless.” 

“What do you want me to...” 

“Hello!” She's being cut off. “What can I get you?” 

The waitress opens her little notepad and listen. 

“Euhm... an iced latte, please.” I ask. 

“Oh, I’m sorry but the icemaker is broken, I can’t do iced.” 

“Normal one, then.” 

“How about your friend?” 

Este is looking down at the picture, on the verge of breaking down. 

“A latte as well” I ask. “Bad timing.” I add apologetically. 

“No worries. Two lattes, then. Right on.” 

When the waitress is gone, I get closer to her. 

“What do you want me to do?” she asks helplessly. 

“Nothing. You go home, cook him dinner or whatever, and do nothing. Give me a month and he’ll regret it.” 

“A month!” she exclaims like I’m out of my mind. 

“If it’s now, you won’t get anything. We don’t have enough proof.” 

She sighs, realizing that I’m right, as much as it hurts. 

“You’ll be playing a role, that’s it. You can do it.” 

“I hate him.” 

“I know.” 

She doesn’t say anything as we wait for the coffee, but the second the waitress is back Este ask if she can make them as take out. She goes back behind the counter, a little annoyed, I can tell, and we stand up to follow. 

“I should go home; he won't be long off.” she explains. 

The second she paid and get her cup she leaves the coffee shop without looking back at me. 

“What is going on with your friend?” The waitress asks me as I pay my coffee. 

“Oh just... the ups and downs of marriage.” I answer. 

“Oh... that’s sucks.” 

She processes whatever on the machine and hand me the cup. 

“Okay it’s all good. Good luck to her, then.” 

“Thank you... Red.” I say, when I read her badge. 

“If it ever gets too down, don’t hesitate to come back here. Coffee is really recomforting, I think.” 

I smile politely. 

“Thank you. We will.” 

Este is already gone when I get outside. And when I go home, I find Lorie in the sofa knitting. 

“How was Lover?” I ask, locking back the door. 

“Oh, she’s okay, I think. Asleep when I got there. I chatted a bit with her mother.” 

“That’s good!” 

She watches me take of my shoes and falling in the sofa next to her. 

“How is Este?” she asks after a big sigh on my part. 

“Well, he definitively is cheating, so... Not great.” 

I hand her the picture I took earlier. 

“I bet.” she whispers watching the shirt. 

I rub my eyes. I am so tired from today. I can’t imagine the emotional void Este must feel right now. I wish I could tell her to stay here with us but if we want this to work, we need her to act normal, and she’s been away long enough. 

“She’s so lucky to have you.” Lorie eventually says. “I’m so lucky to have you, big sister.” 

I look up at her. It cannot be right to leave. Not when she has so much... hope. 

I stretch my arm behind her and hold her against my side, her head resting on my shoulder, still knitting.  

“I’m so lucky I have you.” I answer. 

Chapter Text

Debut  

And i can still see you 

this ain’t the best view 

on the outside, lookin’ in 

I’ve been a lot of lonely places

I’ve never been on the outside 

You saw me there, but never knew  

That I would give it all up to be  

A part of this, a part of you  

And now, it's all too late, so you see  

Friday may 10 th   

I act cool when I get to school the next day. I try to be chill, like I haven’t spent half an hour trying to make my hair look effortlessly bouncy in my bathroom, or change outfits twelve times. Fearless doesn't talk to me on the bus. She sits in the front, and when we get to school and step out of the bus, I see her barely saying hi to Speak Now, waiting at the bus station, before heading inside. 

“She’s grumpy” I say as Speak Now stand up and we follow the flow of students inside.  

“Yeah, she gets like that, right? How was yesterday?” 

I can’t help the smile. 

“Great, actually. We laughed, and talked, and he even asked me for my number.” 

“So cool, Deb!” 

She nudges me in the elbow. Once we’re inside, we try to make our way through the crowd, to the lockers. 

“I’m so happy it’s finally the week end.” Speak says as I open my locker. 

“Yeah, we just have to survive through the day.” 

It’s not such good news for me, honestly. I have to go home and face my parents' disappointment because I still don’t know what I want to do next. And I love my parents, but I like it better at Rep’s. 

“Speak Now, can I see you for a minute?” 

I look up to see that it’s her drama teacher. I wave as she follows the woman – Sophie, I believe – then turns back to put my afternoon books in my locker. I really need to clean it I realize. The books I’ve put here at the beginning of the year that I haven’t touch ever since fall inside, making a mess of the snacks I also keep here. I’ve decorated it with little cards and stickers, but in a few week school ends and I’ll have to take everything out, like I’ve never been there. 

“Hey!” 

I turn around, startled, the books falling again in the locker. It’s Drew, leaning casually on the locker next to mine. 

“Are you gonna go to the game tonight?” he casually asks. 

“I was thinking about it, why?” 

Actually, dad said he’ll take me if I wanted to. It’s the school team playing against one of its forever enemies. I’ve heard some girls from the cheer team saying the boys will eat them alive. 

“I don’t know, just asking.” 

He opens the locker he was just leaning against, putting his own things in. He carelessly shoves in all his stuff, and then closes the door, before leaning closer to me. 

“Oh, I’ve met this girl... Gotta tell you about it later. Much nicer than Jess. And... ah!” 

He looks up, like she’s unbelievably beautiful. Or... hot. She’s probably on the cheering team, like Jessica. Only a girl from the cheering team would deserve a “ah!”. 

He walks away, and all the high I’ve been on since yesterday disappear, like washed off by the tide. I sigh, trying to get a countenance, and put the book back in order so that they’ll stay put. Then I close the door. 

“Okay, I’m done sulking. How did it go?” 

I startled as Fearless appears behind the door, the same place where Drew was seconds ago. 

“Oh my god, Fearless, you scared me.” I put a hand to my heart and follow her towards our classroom. 

“Sorry. I’m sorry also for yesterday. I shouldn’t have been such a bitch. And I want to know how it went.” 

“Great actually. It’s been great.” I don’t have much cheer left in me and she definitely can hear it. 

“Doesn’t sound like it.” 

“Okay no, it was... I mean yesterday was perfect. But anyway, he has a new crush now, but it’s not Jessica.” 

“Okay. You going to the game tonight?” 

I sigh. Not if Drew is here with his date. 

“You going?” 

“If you come.” 

“I can ask dad.” 

“Hi girls!” 

Speak Now closes up with us and we get to class all three of us, like nothing happened yesterday. 

“What’s got you on a high?” Lessie asks to Speak. 

She smiles widely, the kind of smile that is impossible to repress. 

“I... Okay. I was at drama class yesterday, and Sophie had a producer come over because he’s looking for promising talent. And... well he asked me to be part of one of their projects!” 

“What?” I say, at the same time Fearless says “Awesome!” 

“Yeah, I’ll have to check in with my parents this week end, but this... this is the beginning of my career, you know!” 

“That is such an opportunity. I’m so happy for you, Speak.” Lessie congratulates her. 

“What about you? You heard from med school?” I ask. 

Her cheer immediately fades away. 

“And you? Find your true path yet?” 

I know it’s a joke but it kind of stings. 

“Mean, Less’”  

“Sorry. I’m just on edge, because... Well, I haven’t heard. Probably this summer. I’m just on edge all the time. And I don’t want to leave school just yet. Especially if you’re going out with an asshole, Deb.” 

“Don’t worry about that, he found a new crush.” 

Her lips tugs upward even though she tries to stop it. 

“Oh... no...” she says, trying to sound genuinely sad but I can say she’s delighted. 

“Shut up.” I smile. 

°°° 

“Mom!” I say when Rep opens the door of the appartement to my mother. 

I've just spent half an hour re-reading the song I wrote yesterday. I couldn’t stop but be delighted because Rep actually said it was cool when she stumbled upon it earlier, telling me mom was going to be there in half an hour. It made my heart all warm and fuzzy and I kept reading it over and over again, trying to convince myself that it is a good song. 

I rush to my mom, who hugs me back when I reach her arms. 

“Hi sweetie. Hi Reputation! How are you girls?” 

“Great!” Deb exclaims. “I’ll go get my bag.” What I actually mean is, I’ll go make my bag. 

“Oh, okay...” 

I run back to my room, catching a bag and throwing in clothes and some textbooks to catch up on some end of the year exam I have coming up. Then my phone rings. I stop in my track. 

I’ve put silly ringtones for Fearless and Speak Now’s text years ago, when we first met, during a slumber party when we thought it was funny to hear Dolly Parton sing the one word “Jolene” from “Jolene” whenever we texted each other. And beside from them, Rep and mom no one texts me. Dad doesn’t know how to use a phone, to be honest. But mom and Rep are in the other room, so it cannot be anyone.  

I go up to see who it is. Un registered number. I unlock the phone and read the text. 

Really wish I can see you at the game tonight.  

Drew.  

My heart skips a beat. Then another. 

He really texted me! 

I fall in my bed, holding my phone to my heart. This day is the best ever.  

When I feel like I can stop giggling I put my phone in my bag and take everything outside. I won’t answer him now, I have to make him wait a little. But then, before I reach the living room I reach for my phone and text Lessie that I will be at the game.  

“She didn’t want me to ask you to come.” I hear mom say from the kitchen. “She just wanted you to know, and to do what you wanted. But she does wants to see you. It’s about if you want to see her.” 

I get closer. Rep looks upset, putting her hand through her hair. I don’t know what mom is talking about but it doesn’t please her.  

“You ready, mom?” I ask, trying to stop the obviously annoying conversation for Rep. 

They turn to me and suddenly snap back into innocent faces. 

“Yes. Let’s go.” she says smiling. She wasn’t smiling a second ago. 

I don’t dare ask what was that was all about in front of Rep. I wave, going through the door, and mom see her off. “See you on Sunday.” 

“Bye Rep!” I say cheerfully, trying with my whole heart to cheer her. 

She smiles shyly and waves back. 

“Bye Deb.” 

And before I know it the door is closed between us. 

“Can I drive?” I ask when we get to the car.  

She tenses an instant, but probably remember what dad always says. You gotta let her drive if she’s to drive good, honey.  

“Yes, love.” She throws the key in my direction and I take the wheel. 

We are deep in traffic toward Brooklyn suburbs when I break it off. 

“What did you tell Rep?” 

I can see out the corner of my eye ( eyes on the road! She would scream if I didn’t) that she smiles kindly, then sighs. 

“Reputation’s family needed her. That’s all.” 

“We’re her family. You’re talking about the one that abandoned her? Why would they need her?” 

“It’s complicated, love. It’s adult stuff. You’ll realize everything is not black and white, someday.” 

The tone is clear, sharp, rough. Over. I would only upset her if I pushed, but I’m sick of being treated like a child who doesn’t understand the extricate complexion of the human nature and family relationship. I’m what Rep has closest to family, why would they all hide what’s going on with her from me? I want her to be happy, and her genetic family is not going to do that. 

“Dad said he’ll take me to the game tonight if I wanted. Can we go?” 

“Of course, love.” 

I relax a bit in the seat, the traffic thinning out a little as we leave the crowded Manhattan to the quieter Brooklyn part of New York.  

“I’ve picked out some brochures for you, from different universities. You’ll check them out when we get home.” 

It’s not a proposition. It’s not help. It’s an order. 

“Fine.”  

“And I want you to fill out application form by the end of sunday.” 

“Mom!” 

So, we are starting it now. I thought I could at least have the night off. 

“It’s important. You do it now, or you’ll have nothing in the end.” 

“I don’t know what I want! What if I hate it?” 

“I don’t care. You’ll transfer or something. But you have to be in the system of one college to do so.” 

She is not wrong here. I should choose something I don’t totally hate and then... I don’t know. Make it the rest of my life? I hate this. I hate this position. I hate the end of high school. 

“Fine.” 

“Watch your speed.” she says looking at her phone. 

°°° 

“Can I have one?” I ask dad pointing at his beer. 

He laughs out loud, shaking his head.  

“When you’re twenty-one, young girl.” 

But then he looks at me slyly, and discreetly hand me the beer. 

“Don’t tell your mother. She’ll kill me.” 

I smile and take a sip of the bitter drink, grimacing, then give him back.  

We’ve been here twenty minutes, enough for him to get his drink and buy scarf of the school team. He drove me back; very happy I asked him. I answered Drew I would be there because my dad insisted (I couldn’t be too obvious about it, could I?). Before we left, I took a look to the brochures my mom had gathered and left on my desk, but it made my heart twist, so I decided it was a tomorrow problem. 

“Ah! Here you are.” 

I look up to Lessie, making her way in the stands toward us, making everyone stand to let her go through. She grimaces at the scarf but says nothing and sit next to me. 

“Hello Mister Deb’s Dad.” she says waving at him with a smile, holding a drink in the other. 

“Hi Fearless. How have you been?” 

“Great sir, thank you. School has been a big matter lately but we’re going through it with our head high, don’t we?” 

She raises her glass and clink with my father’s beer.  

“What are you drinking?” I ask. 

“Soda, why?” 

I shrug. “Nothing.” 

She makes herself comfortable, looking at the field.  

“When is it starting?” dad asks. 

“It should be about... now?” Lessie says looking at her watch. 

Suddenly, the school hymns resonate on the field, as the bleacher team start marching down the center. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be down there?” I ask Lessie, smiling slyly. 

“Oh, shut up.” 

She was on the bleachers for two years. She abandoned for our last term to focus on studies for med school but we’ve always teased her about being part of the concession anyway. 

When they finish the player come on the field, greeting the crowd, and we scream the name of the team with everyone.  

“Psst. Look.” Lessie points down the stands. 

I follow her finger, and there see Drew waving at me. I can myself blush as I acknowledge him with a small hand gesture. 

“Anyone your boyfriend?”  

I turn to dad, smiling at me with a wicked glow as I blush harder. 

“What?!” 

“On the field? Any of them you boyfriend? Or your... how do you say? Crush?” 

“Oh my god, dad...” 

I hide behind my hands. 

“No, don’t worry about it” Lessie answers. “They haven’t got her heart, do they? Here.” 

I take the cold drink from her hand to cool myself down. The game starts and like expected our school team are clearly winning. I watch it like I’ve never watch anything, unable to watch my dad, Lessie or even Drew or I will die of embarrassment. The second they ring the half I get up to try and find myself a soda or something. 

I’m reading the menu at the refreshment stall when I hear my name. 

“Look who it is, girls. Debut, right?” 

I wish it wasn’t, but Jessica is right here, in her cheer uniform, with her cheerleader’s gang behind her. 

“You got over your crush on Drew?” 

I ignore her and look back at the employee to ask for a soda. 

“Did you know she had a crush on Drew?” She asks the other girls. “I bet she still does, but he doesn’t want her.” 

They all giggle. 

“Shut up, Jessica.” I say, but not with all the confidence I wish I had. 

“Isn’t it sweet? She actually fights back.” 

I breath deep and actually meet her gaze. I’m tired of her bullying. 

“Why do you do this to me?” I ask. “I did nothing to you.” 

“You want what’s not yours.” She has a deadly look in her eyes.  

“You don’t even like Drew!” I retort. 

“Hey!” 

Speaking of the devil, Drew appears behind some other supporters. 

“Leave her alone, Jessica.” 

“She came at me first.” she lies, shrugging. 

“That’s so not true!” I say helplessly. 

“Go back cheerleading or something. Come on, Deb, I wanted to talk to you.” 

She looks at me like she’s about to kill me, crossing her arms. I take my soda and leave, following him. 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he says. “You know that girl I talk to you about this morning? She ghosted me!” 

I frown. 

“It’s not even been a day, Drew. She can’t ghost you in less than a day. It takes at least a week to call it ghosting.” 

“But we’ve been texting like crazy for the past... day.”  

I shake my head. “Give her the week end, I’m sure she’ll answer.” 

I sigh, looking down, thinking. “You’re probably right. Want to get some churros after?” 

I can’t stop the smile from my lips. 

“Yeah... I mean I’ll have to ask my father but... why not.” 

“Great! I had some question about math, actually.” He watches his watch. “Well, I better get going, my sister is going to kill me if I don’t bring her her soda. See you after?” 

“Definitively.” 

I stand like an idiot, watching him get back to stall we just left. And then he gets accost by Jessica and her girls and she looks in my direction and smiles wickedly when she realizes I’m still watching him. 

I turn quickly away to get back to dad and Lessie, who apparently have been a very interesting conversation about football strategies and defense technique of the opponent. 

I take the seat on the edge where Lessie was sitting before, she took my seat to speak with dad and sip my drink, watching Drew’s family’s back waiting for him to come back. Before I spotted him the game started again and I was all cheers and screams and scarf throwing with dad and Lessie. 

Without any surprise our school team wins. The cheerleaders are back in the field, cheering and leading or whatever. I catch Drew eyes. 

Right. Dad, now. 

“Can you give me fifteen minutes? I need to see someone.” 

“Yeah sweatheart. Don’t worry. I wanted to...” 

Lessie looks like she’s going to kill me but I run to the food stand. Drew is already there with the churros in his hands.  

“Ha, I’m so happy we won. My cousin is in the other school and he keeps rubbing in my face that their quarterback has some scholarship and will probably make it to a state team. That match was some humbling, right?” he says, handing over the churros.  

“Yeah, they were ridiculous against Finn.” 

Finn is our quarterback. He is the youngest quarterback the school has ever seen and every girl is madly in love with him. He’s dating the cheerleading team captain, Rosa. Even Lessie had a thing for him during Freshman year. 

“So, about math...” 

He asks me question about some specific stuff while we follow the crowd outside, and end up sitting on a bench near the school football field, eating the churros he bought us.  

“You're a life savior, you know that, Deb?”  he state when he doesn't have any questions left.

“Yeah, what would you do without me?” I laugh eating the last piece of my churros. 

“I honestly don’t know. Probably would have to repeat senior year.” 

“Oh, come on, you’re not that behind!” 

He laughs “Yeah, I am. I’m telling you; I needed you.” 

I sigh, high on the sugar, and relax my shoulder as I lean back, hands on the edge of the bench.  

“I don’t want school to be over” I say, looking out to the building that has hosted me the last four years. 

“Really? I can’t wait to get out.” He states. “Exam and disgusting lunches are not my cup of tea.” 

“Yeah, no of course, I can’t wait for that to be over. But you know, seeing my friends every day, the teachers we like, the clubs we were in, the football games, the parties...” 

“You’ll see your friends when you ‘re gone.” he says reassuringly. 

“Not every day. Lessie wants to be a doctor so she’ll probably disappear to revise every day for the rest of her life. And Speak Now, apparently, she already has a contact for her career. Like... She’ll be gone for her work.” 

“What are you going to do?” 

Again, that same old question. 

“I don’t know.” 

I don’t look at him. I’m sick of this question to which I have no answer because how the hell am I supposed to know what I want to do for the rest of my life when I’m only 18? 

“What about you?” I ask. 

“I think I’ll go in mechanics. Like cars, and all. I like cars.” 

“Since your truck?” 

“No, since always, I think.  And you, you don’t want to do like, music?” 

I shrug. 

“I could, but it’s not like I know a lot about music, you know. I just learned a few chords on my guitar but I don’t know anything about musical theory and all otherwise.” 

“Well, that’s your chance to learn, then.” 

I look up at him. He might not be totally stupid, actually. 

“By the way, I can’t wait for you to show me how you play.” 

I laugh at that. 

“Please, I’ve barely have had that guitar since Christmas, I don’t play that well....” 

“I don’t care!” he smiles. “I want to hear you.” 

“I promise it’s not worth it” I insist, laughing. 

“I promise I don’t care!” He smiles even wider, and puts his hand behind him, accidently touching mine and getting a lot closer to my face. 

I think I blush and he can probably hear my heartbeat from my chest, as we have never been so close together. He looks at me very intensly, and I get all stupid. I need to talk. I say the first thing that can bring me back to reality, to hold on to reason and not feeling.

“You’ll have to come back, then, I don’t have a case to transport it.” I half-whisper. 

“I can arrange that.”  

His eyes flicker down from my eyes to... my lips. I swallow. He looks confused, when he looks back up to me. I instinctively get a bit closer and...  

“Debut?” Dad confusedly shouts, looking for me. 

I stumble back at the same time as Drew, standing up. My father is just here, walking with Lessie when they finally spot me. I turn back to Drew. 

“Okay, well, I need to go, now.” 

“Yeah” he says standing up as well, clearly as embarrassed as me. “Yeah okay. See you on Monday, then.” 

“Good luck for the... euhm... exam. Bye.” 

I don’t even look one last time at him and start walking toward my dad. Oh my god. We almost... oh my god. My heart is pounding in my chest and I’m sure my cheeks are burning red. 

“What happened to you?” Lessie asks, suspicious. 

“Nothing. Let’s go home, I’m tired. Bye Less’!” 

I take dad’s arm and pull it with me toward his car.  

“Well, it was a great night, Deb, thank you. We should do this again.” He says, completely oblivious, as he opens the car door. 

“Yeah, whenever you want, dad.” 

I get in the car and briefly see Drew still near the bench as we exit the parking. I look away. Oh my god.  

Oh. My. God. 

Chapter Text

Speak Now  

I am not the kind of girl  

Who should be rudely bargin' in on a white veil occasion  

But you are not the kind of boy  

Who should be marrying the wrong girl, haha  

So, don't say yes, run away now  

I'll meet you when you're out  

Of the church, at the back door  

Don't wait or say a single vow  

How was I supposed to concentrate on anything the next days, when an actual producer asked for my contact?   

Emma was maybe even more excited than me, to be honest. She waited with me until my parents arrived going on and on about how much of an opportunity this was.   

“You’re gonna be a star!” she exclaimed more than once.  

When mom got there to pick me up, she immediately saw that something was going on.  

“What happened sweetie?” she smiles, watching Emma excitedly wave goodbye.  

“I...”  

And then I explained everything. She burst out gasping with joy, feeding my own, and when we got home, she dragged me to dad proudly, screaming that I was going to be a star.  

So, at the dinner table – mom went back out to get groceries to make my favorite dish, mac and cheese with her twist – we brainstormed  to write the perfect email of acceptation.  

I barely got any sleep that night, checking my emails every ten minutes to see if something had come up. When it got ridiculously late, I just let my laptop open on my desk on my email box, until my eyes close from tiredness.   

The next morning nothing had come, but again he won’t be answering in the middle of the night, I told myself.  

When mom drove me to school and he still hadn’t replied, I check the way I spelled his address, in case there was an error. There wasn’t.  

So, I spent all day on edge. I told Lessie and Deb (Lessie seemed to have stop whining apparently), eventually and they got as equally excited about it as everyone in my inner circle. Even Sophie went to congratulate me.   

The word quickly got out inside the drama class group and the reactions were mixed. Some were genuinely happy for me, like Emma, but I could see cold poisonous stare from other in the corridor.  

And finally, it was the week end.   

And I got an email back.  

Dear Miss Speak Now,  

I am thrilled to hear back from you. My offer still stands indeed. The project I had in mind for you I believe is a wonderful fit for your talent. I’ve outlined the concept for a jewelry advertisement promoting a brand that specializes in pieces for special occasions (weddings, anniversaries, etc.). You’ll find the full scenario attached, and we’re set to shoot this Monday at a studio in Brooklyn. I’ve also included the contract for your review; you’ll sign it when you arrive.  

If for any reason you’re unavailable, please let me know. I understand it’s a school week, so we can easily arrange a school excuse for you.  

This is a remarkable opportunity, and I wouldn’t want you to miss out.  

Looking forward to your confirmation.  

Best regards,  

John  

I am sitting at the bus stop bench, when I jolt upright. Monday! This Monday! The start of my career is this Monday!   

Lessie and Deb are already gone with the bus and I’m waiting for mom but all this excitement has to go somewhere. I must look frantic because people passing by are looking at me like I’m deranged. My hands are trembling and... Oh my god. He really wrote back. I’m going to be an actress!  

I open the scenario file to read it through. It starts as a girl, me, interrupting a wedding, to declare my love to the groom. But then you understand it’s just a wedding planner helping the groom rehears his vows. It looks really nice. I need to memorize that whole speech, I guess.   

Finally, Finally, mom parks in front of me. I jump inside the car and shove the phone in her face.  

She reads it, a bit disconcerted, but then gasp.   

“Oh, my little Speak Now! You're getting famous!”  

“Mom it’s amazing!” She hugs me so tight I almost can’t breathe anymore.  

“Let’s go tell your dad!”  

The evening happens exactly like last night. But this time they help me rehears the script until I can see the whole ad when I close my eyes. When I go to sleep, I dream about being this girl in the church. And basically, we only do that the whole week end. At some point I do read the contract too, and dad says it looks fine to him.   

The begining is just who I am and Mr Mayer’s name, and the company name. Then the articles :  

1. Purpose of Agreement

The Producer is engaged in the production of a jewelry advertisement for Velora Jewelry, specializing in engagement rings, wedding bands, and anniversary gifts. The Actress agrees to perform in the commercial advertisement. This Agreement outlines the terms and conditions for the Actress's participation.  

2. Compensation

The Actress will be paid a total fee of 200$ for her participation in the commercial. The full payment will be made upon completion of the shoot and signing of the final contract.  

3. Rights and Usage

The Producer is granted the exclusive rights to use the footage, images, and recordings of the Actress as part of the advertisement for promotional purposes. The advertisement may be used in television, print, online media, and social media platforms as deemed appropriate by the Producer.  

4. Schedule and Location

The shoot will take place on may 13th 10am at 538 Johnson Avenue, New York, NY 11237. The Actress agrees to be present at the designated time and location for the shoot.  

5. Termination

If the Actress is unable to attend the shoot on the scheduled date due to unforeseen circumstances, the Producer reserves the right to terminate this Agreement without compensation.  

6. Governing Law

This Agreement shall be governed by and construed in accordance with the laws of the state of New York state, and any disputes will be resolved in the jurisdiction of New York City, New York.  

7. Acceptance

By signing below, both parties acknowledge and agree to the terms outlined in this Agreement.  

And at the end is the mark to sign. 200$! I never gain so much at once. My parents would give me some pocket money, but that amount, for my work, is huge.   

Obviously, I written back to Mr Mayer the minute I got home, telling I’ll be here and I would like a school excuse. Mom agreed to drive me to the studio, but she will have to leave because of her work.   

I called Debut and Fearless to tell them the excellent news too on Saturday. Fearless even came over that night, living not too far from me, and she again helped me rehears.   

“Speak Now, it’s so amazing.” She says sitting on my bed after the third time we went through the entire thing.   

“I can’t believe he noticed me!” I exclaim falling next to her on my back. “ Me ! Out of all the people present.”  

“Yeah, I mean it’s not that surprising.”  

I turn on my belly and stay on my elbow to look at her.  

“What do you mean?”  

She seems perplexed, and then exclaim with a big smile “You are talented, Speak! You have the first role of the drama class act! What more do you need to understand you deserve this?”  

“I...”  

I don’t know what to say, honestly.  

“You’re gonna be fire in that ad. Trust me.”  

But what if I mess up, right? This could be the beginning of my career, or the end of it. If I’m bad and I mess this up I could end up blacklisted and nobody will ever want to work with me. I’ll end up a waitress in some college bar and die lonely and unknown.  

“Speak.”  

Lessie takes my hands, as if she can see the panic in my blood.  

“You’re good. He wouldn’t have asked you to come if you weren’t. This is good. You are good.”  

“I hope you’re right. But it’s still very stressful.”  

“I know.”  

She lies down next to me and held her forehead to mine.   

“You’re good, Speak. You’re amazing.”  

She squeezes my hand a little bit to emphasize her words.   

And before I know it the week end is over and I am sitting in a car with mom on my way to brooklyn.  

My heart is in knots in the elevator to the floor of the studio. I keep picking at my finger, under the disapproving eye of my mother.  

“Stop that.”   

I sigh and straighten up.  

The doors to the elevator open and we walk in the corridor toward the door Mr Mayer indicated in his mail with the last few details.   

I stop before the door.  

Mom turns to me.   

“It’s gonna be amazing, okay. Just... try to make a good impression, alright?”  

“Not stressful at all, thank you.”  

She straightens the fabric of my shoulder.   

“I have to leave, and it’s better if you’re alone. More professional, okay ? I’ll wait in the car, if it’s not here, you call me. Okay?”  

“Thank you, mom.”  

“Okay, see you tonight. Text me when you’re done, I’ll come and get you.”  

“I can take the subway."  

She frowns.  

“I want to come and get you.”  

I sigh. “Fine.”  

“Okay sweetie.” She lingers a bit, looking at me and every bit of my body looking for something that might be wrong, that might be not perfect for my first day, but then takes my shoulders and kisses me on both cheeks. “Break a leg.”  

She then waves and get back to the elevator.   

I wait until the doors closes on her before turning back to the studio door, stress curling in my stomac like a cat. And then I knock.  

A woman opens them. Behind, it’s really busy. People running around, cameras, sound effect, mic, screen...  

“Hello, Miss. You must be Speak Now.”  

I smile politely, extending my hand.  

“Yes, nice to meet you.”  

“I am Enora, I work with John at Timeless Studios. First, we’ll get you to...”  

“Speak Now!” Suddenly exclaim a voice farther away. It’s Mr Mayer, with another man. They start walking towards us. “Brendon, that’s the girl I was talking to you about. She’ll be our little star, today.”  

They get to us, extending their hands.  

“Speak Now, this is Brendon Garland, he’s the marketing lead of Velora Jewelry, our client today. You’ve met Enora? Good. She’ll show you around. I have to go to sound check, and the director wanted to have a word with you after you got to makeup. Did you find the building easily?”  

I swallow but says “Yes, of course. Very clear indication.”  

“Great, glad to hear it. We are a bit on a schedule, to be honest. Before we start do you have any questions?”  

That’s the moment I was waiting for. Having a question is good, it shows I’m interested. Too many would be annoying. But one question, about the script, shows I read it.  

“Actually yes. I read through the script and am I not a little young to play a wedding planner?”  

He shrugs my worry off.  

“No, they’ll make you look older at makeup, don’t worry. Oh, and by the way, about your contract, I’ll have Enora bring it you. The campaign has gain some more importance and because of the new exposure it has we had to slightly change it. Nothing crazy, just about ads to be, and responsibility. Nothing you should worry about, really.”  

“Euhm, okay.”  

Does that mean I would be asked to do even more ads? That would be amazing.  

“Get her to makeup, will you?”  

He puts his hands on my shoulder, watching Enora.  

“Thank you again, Mr Mayer.” I manage to say before he disappears.   

He seems to stop for a moment.  

“It’s John, honey.” he says with a sweet smile. And then leaves with that Garland man.   

My mouth goes dry.  

Emma is right. He is very very handsome.  

“Ignore him” Enora warns me. “He has inappropriate nick name for everyone. Now if you’ll follow me...”  

I snap out of my inappropriate thoughts and follow her in another room.  

The cosmetics team pamper me from makeup to hair, and then I get given a dress a wedding guest would get. Enora gives me the contract when I’m tied to a chair, unable to move with pins in my hair. I read it, but I can’t find what the big change is.  

1. Purpose of Agreement

The Producer is engaged in the production of a jewelry advertisement for Velora Jewelry, specializing in engagement rings, wedding bands, and anniversary gifts. The Actress agrees to perform in the commercial advertisement. This Agreement outlines the terms and conditions for the Actress's participation.  

2. Compensation

The Actress will be paid a total fee of 200$ for her participation in the commercial. The full payment will be made upon completion of the shoot and signing of the final contract.  

3. Rights and Usage

The Producer is granted the exclusive rights to use the footage, images, and recordings of the Actress as part of the advertisement for promotional purposes. The advertisement may be used in television, print, online media, and social media platforms as deemed appropriate by the Producer.  

4. Additional Engagement:

The Actress agrees to be available for Additional Photoshoots,Interviews,Promotions within 60 days after the initial shoot, as part of the extended promotional campaign for Velora Jewel. The terms of these additional engagements will be discussed and agreed upon at a later date.  

5. Schedule:

The shoot will take place on may 13th 10 am at 538 Johnson Avenue, New York, NY 11237. The Actress agrees to be present at the designated time and location for the shoot.  

6. Termination:

If the Actress is unable to attend the shoot for any reason, the Producer reserves the right to terminate this contract without compensation. In case of the Actress's non-compliance with the exclusivity clause, the Producer has the right to terminate the contract and seek damages.  

7. Governing Law:

This Agreement shall be governed by the laws of the state of New York.  

The only difference is more work, so more exposure, so more money and more acting. She gave me a pen, so I sign and hand out one of the two I have to sign.  

When I get out, I follow Enora around the studio. The place is huge. I would have never imagined such a studio would hide behind the walls of a random Brooklyn street. Everyone is very busy, fixing cameras, adjusting the lights, screaming orders here and there. Behind the big screens at the back of the room the workers have headphones and adjusting the volume on their big computer. In front of that part is the big green screen, with church bench and the altar. There’s another part of the massive room where they made a fake living room with color samples and wedding inspiration on the coffee table.   

Enora gets me towards the big screen. Sitting in the usual Hollywood style chair is a man screaming at someone running away with a mic on his shoulder. Mr Mayer – John – is here too.  

When we get to them John straightens up.  

“Elliot, this is our little star.”  

The director barely turns towards me and watches me from top to bottom, lazily leaning against the arm of the chair. His eyes go up, then down, his face a constant expression of disdain.  

“Damn, John.” he finally says. “Nice one.”  

I blush.  

“Okay, you ready to go?” he loudly slaps the arm of his chair to get up. “Reina, Kyle, let’s go!” he screams before going toward the scene.  

Okay, it’s happening now. I take a deep breath and am about to follow but John puts a hand on my shoulder – again.  

“You look... radiant. Perfect.”  

I look down at my own outfit.  

“Thank you.”  

“First, we’ll do the scene in the church. Elliot will give you the instruction. Here.”  

He puts a strand of my hair behind my ear, his finger touching my cheek when he pulls back.  

“Don’t make me regret choosing you, Speak Now. I know you have a... talent. A passion. Let it show here, okay.”  

I take a deep breath. He is right. I do. I do have a talent. I should stop doubting that.  

I nod and then follow him toward the fake church.  

And messes it all up.  

The first time the director screamed cut I went blank with dread, just one second after my line. Then it happened again. And again.  

“The fuck is this? I want emotion we are selling fucking wedding rings! You sound like you’re ordering a kebab!” he shouts. “And you Reina, she’s stealing your fucking husband, be a bit present please! Let’s go again.”  

Tears are almost in my eyes. This is not what I wanted.  

I sit back down on the bench, the extra next to me reaching to squeeze my hand.  

“He’s an asshole.” he whispers.  

I look up, trying to dry my tears.  

“And... action!”  

I can’t thank the extra that the fake priest starts again, and suddenly it’s my cue to get up.  

“No, cut!” he screams.  

I look back to him, because I’m pretty sure I wasn’t that bad, but he looks at Kyle, the man.  

“Kyle men, the fuck? You’re on the screen. Let’s go again.”  

A general sigh of disparovement passes through the huge room. I make eye contact with the nice extra, and Enora comes closer to Elliot, whispering something in his ear.  

“Fine, let’s take five.”  

Everyone relaxes and starts walking back and forth to get a coffee.  

I don’t dare move, especially when John comes toward me. That’s it, I'm gonna be fired. Goodbye to my dreams.  

He just sits there on the bench next to me and sighs.  

“This is not all you can give, is it?”  

I don’t know what to answer.  

“This is a very intimidating thing; you’re first professional filming project. You need to get past this. I need you to get past it and tap into your heart here.”  

I just stare, without speaking.  

“You need to find something in your life to fuel you with passion and let it show here. You want this man, okay. Imagine it’s a boy you like at school, or a friend that is about to leave forever. You want to keep him here. You need to stop this wedding.”  

Damn, he is a beautiful man, is all I can think about.  

“Show me what you showed in that class. Show me passion, Speak.”  

He takes my hand and I snap out of my staring.  

“Can you do that for me?”  

I feel overwhelmed with the director voice still shouting things in the back, the disappointment still printed on my mind, John’s words and his hand on mine.  

Someone I want to hold back? I can think of Lessie, going to med school next year.  I can do that properly.  

“Yes.”  

He smiles with relief and let go of my hand while standing up, cold creeping on my skin.  

“Perfect.”  

I stay here, trying to imagine Lessie going away, and a few minutes later everyone is back in place.  

And before Elliot shouts “action” I look back at John.  

The priest starts again, and Reina looks stunning in her pastry shaped dress, looking lovingly to her husband to be, and I get up.  

He cannot do that. That’s all I think about.  

The extras all look at me, and I sigh, then say “I am not the kind of girl who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion, but... you are not the kind of boy who should be marrying the wrong girl. So don't say yes. Runaway now, I'll meet you when you're out of the church, at the back door. Don't wait or say a single vow, please and...”  

“Cut!”  

I stop and look back. I don’t have the energy for another one. If he says i’m shit again I will cry.  

“Perfect! That’s the one.” he says to my immense relief. “Let’s get to the other scene. Speak Now and Kyle, makeup, now.”  

Everyone turns off cameras and microphones and Enora walks towards me and Kyle to get us to makeup. I see John in the sea of people giving me two thumbs up and I can’t help my smile, as I follow Enora to makeup.  

Damn, I did it.  

I actually did it.

Chapter Text

Reputation

I don't wanna hurt you, I just wanna be  

Drinkin' on a beach with you all over me  

I know what they all say, I know what they all say  

But I ain't tryna play  

I wanna be your endgame  

I don't wanna hurt you, I just wanna be  

Drinkin' on a beach with you all over me  

I know what they all say, I know what they all say  

But I ain't tryna play  

I wanna be your endgame  

Monday May 13 th  

I take a deep puff of my cigarette, leaning against the wall of the back of Le petit Gourmet, my phone to my ear.  

“So, you didn’t go?” Midnights ask after one long silence.  

“No, I fucking did not.” I answer ashing my cig on the floor. “She can screw herself.”  

Silence at the end of the line. I draw some more nicotine.  

“What did Mary say?” she finally asks.  

“Nothing.”  

When she came back yesterday to drop Deb off, she didn’t hint that she knew I didn’t take that plane or not.  

“I couldn’t do it, Mid. The idea of seeing my mother and those strangers to grieve a woman I’ve met no more than ten times in my life... She should’ve called. Maybe I would’ve made an effort. But I’m not worth a phone call, apparently.”  

“Don’t ever start believing this is true for me.” Mid says sharply.  

“No, of course. Of course. How about you? Heard from your parents?”  

Silence on the other side. I don’t push, waiting for her to be ready.  

“Even dad hasn’t texted. I tried calling him but I’m sure mom had forbidden him from answering. A fucking coward, that man.”  

“I like your dad. Funny man.”  

When I spent the holidays with them, he would always do everything to make me comfortable, unlike his wife.  

I sigh at her silence.  

“I’m really sorry this is how your exhibition went, Mid.”  

She laughs on the phone, distorted and a bit blurry.  

“It wasn’t that bad of a night to be honest. I ended up in a bar with someone until sunrise. I have no idea how I got home to be honest.”  

“You were having fun without me?” I accuse her. “Who was he?”  

“She, actually. A girl I met at the exhibition. Before, to be accurate.”  

“Oh, a fan, I see.” I chuckle. “Didn't thought you were the type to sleep with your fan.”  

“She didn’t even know it was my paintings.”  

“You lied to her? You should be proud, Mid. You are really talented.”  

“I know I know. I just... I don’t know. I didn’t want to jinx it. Anyway.”  

She goes silent again, but I am too curious, breathing in even more cigarette.  

“So... what kind of night was it?”  

She sneers, as if I am being ridiculous.  

“Nothing like that. I didn’t sleep with her, you idiot.”  

“Are you gonna see her again?”  

“How? I barely know her name and I think the last thing I did with her was puking in the toilets of the bar.”  

“Ah, shoot. Maybe destiny will reunite you again.”  

“She’s travelling. She’s gone in a week or two anyway.”  

“Could be a fun week for both of you.”  

She doesn’t answer and I take the last puff of my cigarette, dropping on the floor to light it off with my foot.  

“How about you?” she asks when I get down to take the tip back and throw it in the bin.  

“What do you mean?”   

“Jack texted me you were pretty inspired lately...”  

I roll my eyes. Fucking jack.  

“Yeah, well. Don’t know if she interested. We were supposed to go get coffee but she wasn’t there. Sick apparently but well...”  

“She stood you up?”  

“Not really, I had to get her at her work but she wasn’t there and the girl there told me she was sick.”  

“Go back now then.”  

I pull a face.  

“And look like a psycho? Anyway, I’m pretty sure it was supposed to be a platonic coffee.”  

“You will never know if you don’t go find out.”  

“Fuck you, fan-fucker. Your thing is painting, not poetry.”  

She laughs on the other end.  

“I’m just saying. You just ended work, right?”  

“I don’t even know if she works now.”  

She clears her throat.  

“Risking repeating myself again, you can only know if...”  

“Okay I’m hanging up now. Bye Mid.”  

I click the red button without waiting for a response and go back inside. But gathering my stuff, I realize how badly I want to go and see. Maybe she’s here, maybe she is not. It’s not that much of a detour because it’s just across the street.  

I look at myself in the mirror of the changing room.  

Fuck it, it’s been long since anything happen to me romantically speaking and today is a good hair day, pull back in a braid but with exactly enough hair falling out.  

I grab my helmet and change my shoes back to the motorbike ones, dressing up fully because if she isn’t there, I am not wasting time to go home.   

And leaving Bertha in le petit Gourmet parking spot I go to the flower shop I feel like I spend my life in now.  

My heart goes crazy when I see her pink hair through the glass. But I don’t back down and push the door.   

She’s with another girl I haven’t seen before, also in their florist apron, a watering can in her hand. Lover is with her back to me when the florist greets me, but then she turns around and every word I ever learnt just leaves my mind.   

I forgot how stunning she looks. Fucking gorgeous.  

“Reputation? What... Oh my god! I am so so sorry for Friday!” she exclaims.  

Speak! Someone in my head screams.  

I shake my head a little, trying to regain some normal function.  

“Oh, don’t worry,” I say. “It’s really okay; I... your colleague told me you were sick, It's... It’s okay.”  

She has her mouth open like she still can’t believe it.  

“What... do you need something here?” she asks “I can offer you a bouquet for the standing up, I am so so sorry and...”  

“No no, I just... I just thought I pop by, see if you... I mean it’s a bit...” I clear my throat. “I thought maybe you could be available now?”  

Ready for rejection, I take a deep breath, but her smiles light up, making my heart melt.  

“Yeah, I just finish, actually. That would be... I mean yes, let’s go.”  

She laughs awkwardly.   

I can’t stop my own smile, as I turn back to open the door behind me.   

Damn you, Midnights.  

“After you.”  

She grabs her bag from somewhere behind the counter, says goodbye to her colleague and leave the shop, me on her heels.  

Back in the sunny streets I realize how unpractical having my helmet in the hand is.   

“Do you mind if I quickly get rid of this?”  

I show her the helmet and shakes her head.  

“No please. Where?”  

“In the restaurant, I have a locker.”  

I cross the streets quickly to get to the restaurant and tell her to wait a second outside, the time I get rid of my helmet and uncomfortable shoes.  

“So, this is where you work?” she asks when I get back out.  

“It is,” I say, looking at the old sign that doesn’t light up anymore. “It’s honestly not that good, don’t ever come get food here.”  

She laughs.  

“Okay,” I say looking back at her stunning face. “Where did you get that coffee I spilled?”  

She looks worried.  

“Oh, it’s not that close by if your ride is here...”  

“I can take the subway to get home, don’t worry.”  

“Okay.”  

We walk together to the subway and I follow her in the intricate subway network of Manhattan while she explains on my demand why this is her favorite coffee shop.  

“You’ll see but the owner has made the place super cute. And their coffee, oh god I don’t know how they do it, or what special training they get but it’s the best thing you will ever taste.”  

“So completely worth the ride, then?”  

In response the subway tremble, but she assures me the stop is nearby.  

When we exit, we are in Yorkville and the place indeed looks super cute. Everything is red, as if it’s almost valentine day, nicely decorated with shades of brown and red, cushion everywhere and a quiet atmosphere to it. The guy behind the counter is steaming some milk for client lining up before it.  

We sit down in a corner and I take the menu.  

“I guess you already know what you’re ordering?”  

She smiles a bit guiltily.  

“Vanilla iced cappuccino with cinnamon. That’s what I always get.”  

“Is it worth it?”  

“Definitively.”  

The waitress doesn’t last too long to come and serve us.  

“Hello, what can I get you?” she asks throwing her ginger hair out of her way.  

“Two vanilla iced cappuccinos with cinnamon.” I say, putting the menu down.  

“Anything else?”  

“No thanks,” Lover answer.   

“Perfect.”  

The girl takes the two menus and leave with them.  

“Okay” Lover says, putting her head in her hands. “So, you work in a not-worth-it restaurant and have a guitar that you carry with you in the subway. You don’t just play for fun, do you?”  

I laugh at that.   

“Wahoo, you think a lot.”  

She shrugs, quite proud.  

“No, you are right. I am in a group and we're trying to get produced.”  

“Really? That’s so cool!”  

I sigh “Yeah, sounds cool, but we’re really struggling.”  

“You don’t like your job in the restaurant, do you?”  

I frown “What are you, a mind reader? It’s a bit scary.”  

“No, but I spoke of my old job the same way you do with that restaurant.”  

“What did you do?” I ask curious.   

“I was working with kids.”  

“You don’t like kids?”  

She shakes her head.  

“I like kids. Just not thirty bad-mannered and mean ones. I swear, once one of them peed on me on purpose.”  

“What? What did you do to them?” I ask laughing.  

“Nothing.” she says leaning in. “Just trying to do an activity and he was one piece of... He was a kid so I won’t insult him, but I really, really disliked him.”  

“You're so cute. You can say he was a piece of shit.”  

She blushes a bit at that, and she looks even more cute like that. The waitress comes back with our drinks and after the first sip of an overly sugared coffee I fall into a breech of time.   

I am incapable of saying how long we really stay here. We speak, and speak, and speak, about my music, my band, Debut, her flower shop, her life, her parents, politics and even our appartements, in the most natural and wonderful way possible. I don’t check my phone once and we order even more drinks, but this time I stay with black coffee. Night falls outside and we continue talking about everything and these few hours we spent together, I wish I could’ve bottled them up and keep them preciously on my nightstand.  

“You did what?”  

“I swear!” I laugh throwing my head back. “We were so mad we wrote that on the board.”  

“You are vile!” she shouts leaning in to emphasize, her pink hair grazing the table.  

“Yeah, uni was kind of wild. That teacher was an asshole though.”  

She sits back in her chair, still laughing at the story I just told, shaking her head, her third empty hot chocolate on the table.   

I calm my hurting cheeks from laughing so much and sighs when she suddenly has a weird motion, as if she’s about to puke. She puts her hand in front of her mouth.  

“Are you okay?” I ask.  

She puts a hand up, looking at the floor and focusing.  

“Wait.” She has another motion, but then takes a deep breath and sits back up. “I’m sorry I... I think I’m still a bit sick. I think I’m going home.”  

“No, you kidding, please do. Where do you live?”  

“Really close by, don’t worry I...”  

“I can help you there.”  

She looks at me helplessly.  

“No, seriously, don’t worry I don’t need...”  

“I’ll go pay and I’ll get you home.”  

I stand up before she can stop me and leaves a bill on the counter, then goes to Lover and help her up. She puts her hand in front of her mouth again, and when she looks up at me her eyes are glassy. She wipes her forehead and stand up.  

“Thanks.”  

Standing up she takes a deep breath and then grabs her bag.  

“I’m okay.”  

She then proceeds to go to the door and I follow her outside.  

“You’re sure you’re okay?”  

“Yeah, don’t worry. I have some dizziness sometimes. It’s okay. It has passed.”  

“Okay, so you don’t live far?”  

“No, just a few blocks this way.”  

We cross the street and I follow her in the crowded streets of New York. It’s not only dark but actually cloudy.  

“Damn, I think it’s gonna start raining” I say.  

We walk for not even five minutes before thunder groans somewhere in the sky. Very quickly followed by pouring rain.  

“Oh no!”  

“Shit!” I shout. “Come on!”  

Putting our bags above our head we run toward her appartement, the rain soaking our clothe, gripping my skin.  

“It’s here!”  

Barely seeing anything I follow her to the little door she opens with her key and follow her inside.  

“Oh my god!” she says watching her soaked clothe. “Every time you see me your shirts gets wet!”  

I laugh at that.  

“Come on, you’ll wait until it’s over upstairs.”  

She starts going up the stairs but I hesitate.  

“You’re sure? I mean, I don’t want to annoy.”  

She turns back toward me. I haven’t notice but her soaked pink hair starts staining her white blouse. “Are you kidding? I’ve just had the most amazing time of my life; you’re not annoying anyone. Let’s go.”  

Feeling shared, I think. So, I follow her upstairs.  

Her appartement is really cute. Small and simple, one room for the living room and the kitchen, with a sliding door in wood to what I think is her bedroom.  

“You can wait at least until the storm has passed. Even if you want to sleep here, it’s quite late already.” Before she can add anything another wave of nausea gets to her and she grabs a stool to stay up.  

“You should get to bed.”  

She swallows hardly.  

“Yes. I’m so sorry I’m like this.”  

“Please, I don’t care. You should rest.”  

She nods, and aim for her bedroom.  

“Can you get me a towel from the bathroom, for my hair?”  

“On it.”  

I leave her and explore to find the bathroom, the only other room. I grab the first towel from the rack and go back in her room.  

She’s lying on the side of the bed, her eyes already closed.  

“No towel, then?”  

She groans something. I get closer and grab the blanket to put it on her.  

“Are you sure you’re, okay?” I whisper.  

“I’m sorry. I just need... sleep. Make yourself at home.” she says in her pillow.  

She really doesn’t seem okay.  

I bring a cup of water in her room and watches her like a creep already falling asleep. Before it gets too weird to stand in the dark watching her beautiful face, I get back in the living room.  

And pull my phone from my pocket to warn Deb that I won’t be coming back tonight.  

I can’t leave her alone.  

Chapter Text

Lover  

It’s new, the shape of your body  

 It’s blue, the feeling I got   

And it’s ooh, woah-oh  

It’s a cruel summer  

It’s cool, that’s what I tell them  

No rules, in breakable heaven   

But ooh, woah-oh  

It’s a cruel summer with you  

Wednesday May 8th  

I went home to my mother cooking me food – like I predicted – when I realized that the date with this subway girl was a bad idea. Because I have an appointment the day right before that could make me sick. Of course, this appointment has been having me anxious since I know about it, but two minutes into a conversation with a stranger and I forget about it. Enough to plan a coffee with her. And of course, I have no way to tell her I might not be able to make it. Unless I go directly in the restaurant, she said she works at, but that is downright creepy.  

“You okay, honey?” Mom asks while I wait, sitting at the table for the meal.   

I realize I’m staring out the window.   

“What? Yeah, of course. How about you?”  

“Fine, but this is not about me.”  

“It should be. You should be in vacation right now.”  

“I told you, you’re more important.”  

“I can take care of myself, mom.” I lie.  

She stirs the vegetables in the pan, adding spices and salt while they crisp in the oil.  

“This is a big deal, sweetie. It’s okay to need someone.”   

She’s right. She always is. I feel like I could cry.  

“Thank you.”  

She only smiles kindly, putting whatever she just made into two plates for us.  

“Where is Rob?” I ask innocently, staring at my plate. “Still there?”  

“Yes, we thought you didn’t need him, and you know he works a lot. He can use a little rest.”  

“This was supposed to be your vacation.” I say, putting the fork in my mouth, forcing the food down even though my stomach is in knots.  

She sighs and reach across the table to touch my arm.  

“Honey, you have to accept we’re together now. He does want to know you better, you know?”  

“Yeah, that’s the impression he gave last time.”  

“He… he didn’t mean that, Lover. He was tipsy.”  

“Oh, now it’s an excuse.” I exclaim, throwing my hand in the air, because it’s easier to be dramatic than to eat. I can’t eat.  

“And I never sided with what he said. You are not a burden, and you don’t bring me down. I did come here with you, didn’t I? He matters a lot to me, and maybe one day you’ll see it, but you matter more. Always.”  

I take a deep breath. I don’t like that man but my mom does, so I should just accept it. And right now, he shouldn’t even be important enough to be in this conversation. But I just can’t stop the hatred in me.  

“At what time is your appointment tomorrow?”  

“6:30.”  

“Great. I’ll get you at work then. You end at 6?”  

“Yes. Thank you again.”  

She smiles and end up her plate. I don’t.   

We don’t bring up Rob in the conversation again. When it’s time I pull the second matress out from the sofa and make her bed. The next morning she’s already up making pancakes when I get up for work. I received a nice message from Joe this morning, wishing me good luck.   

That day is not very busy. Kristen reminds me to tell her tonight if I’m too sick to come tomorrow, and when it’s time my mother is waving through the doors like a madwoman, grinning until I join her.   

The appointment is not as scary as I thought. It’s as awful as usual, but not much more. I can’t feel the difference right away; I’m just as spread on the table without the right to move a muscle. But it is longer this time. Mom awaits me right outside at the end and rides me home. But the moment I go through the door of my apartment, I fall on my bed without any energy left. I tell mom to send a message to Kristen, and then before I know it, I’m asleep.  

When I wake up, the sun really high in the sky. I don’t get up, just feel sore and tired all over. Briefly the thought of Repuation passes through me, and I hope she doesn’t hate me too much for standing her up.  

Another thought that passes through me is, according to the schedule of all the radiotherapeutic appointments I have, this is going to be a very cruel summer. Probably my worst.  

I stay in bed all day, and then all of Saturday as well. I can hear mom on the phone yelling at Rob at some point, but when she sees me, she hangs up and makes me eat. She stays with me the whole week end. Apparently, Lorie passed by but I was sleeping so she told her to come back. I’m doing much better on Sunday, so I insist she goes back, and I have to promise to call her, and accept that she comes with me for my next appointment for her to finally leave. I send a message to Kristen to tell her I’ll be back tomorrow, then at Lorie to know if she wants to meet up tomorrow night.  

And then I have all night to be anxious about how I stood up that girl and how much of a horrible person I am.  

“How are you!” Lorie asks first thing when she sees me on monday. “I came back earlier to see you but you were...”  

“It’s okay!” I reassure her. She puts her bag and stuff away and comes hug me tightly. “I rested; it was okay. How was your week end?”  

“Actually? Terrible.” She says putting on her apron. “Mom and Eve got into a big fight. They haven’t spoken at all. And Eve’s friend Este, I think you’ve already seen her once, her husband is cheating on her! Oh, and Eve almost got engaged!”  

“What?” I exclaim at the gossip bomb she just dropped.  

“I know, right?” She takes her place beside me to assess the flower state on the rack. “We need to go get a drink and talk about everything because it was intense!”  

“Yeah, definitively.”  

I keep watering some plant but she stops, still looking at me.  

“What are you doing?”  

I stop, confused for a second.  

“What...?"  

“Give me that!” She takes the watering can from my hand. “I'm on the afternoon shift. go change and go home, Love. You need to rest.”  

“I’m okay!” I half laugh. “I rather do something when I actually can.”  

“Doesn’t matter, I’m the one working this afternoon. Just get out of here.”  

I sigh, but start taking off my apron and gathering my stuff. But then I can’t wait more.  

“She almost got engaged?”  

“Yes. I’m telling you; this week end was wild.”  

“To Tom?”  

“Yeah!”  

She empties the rest of the water in our most impressive plant and put the can away.  

“Are they still together?”  

“No, he couldn’t stand the fact that she crushed his ego.”  

“Damn.”  

“Yeah.” she sighs, checking something behind the counter. “Did we run out of wrapping paper?”  

“No, there’s more in the back, Kristen bought them I think.”  

The door opens behind me, the ring resonating in the space.  

“Okay, I’ll leave you.” I say to Lorie so she can take care of the customer. She smiles and I turn around to aim for the door.   

But then it is Reputation standing in the middle of the space, in a leather jacket and motorcycle boots, her blond hair tied in a braid at the back of her head. She also has a helmet in her hand.  

“Reputation?” I exclaim, too stunned to see her here. “What... Oh my god! I am so so sorry for Friday!”   

Doesn’t she hate me?  

“Oh, don’t worry,” she shrugs my worry off. “It’s really okay; I... your colleague told me you were sick, It's... It’s okay.”  

I am such a bad person.  

“What... do you need something here?” I ask. Yeah, offering something is a good idea. “I can offer you a bouquet for the standing up, I am so so sorry and...”  

She shakes her hand in refusal.  

“No no, I just... I just thought I pop by, see if you... I mean it’s a bit...” She clears her throat. “I thought maybe you could be available now?”  

Available... for the coffee?   

“Yeah, I just finish, actually. That would be... I mean yes, let’s go.”  

Oh my god, she doesn’t hate me. I smile so hard; I’m sure Lorie is judging me right now. Reputation just hold the door opens for me.  

“After you.”  

I grab my bag behind the counter and turn back to Lorie.  

“See you tomorow?” I ask.  

“Definitively” she answers looking at Rep.  

I ignore the tone and follow Rep outside.  

“Do you mind if I quickly get rid of this?” she asks, showing her helmet.  

“No please. Where?”  

“In the restaurant it’s, I have a locker.”  

I follow her across the street to her restaurant. It’s a bit shabby, with written in french le petit Gourmet as the sign on top. When she comes out five minutes later, I realize she also changed her boots.  

“So, this is where you work?” I ask, showing the sign.  

“It is,” she sighs. “It’s honestly not that good, don’t ever come get food here.”  

I can’t stop my laugh.  

“Okay,” she says, rubbing her hands. “Where did you get that coffee I spilled?”  

“Oh, it’s not that close by if your ride is here...”  

“I can take the subway to get home, don’t worry.”  

Nice, because I am craving one of those coffee right now to be honest.  

“Okay.”  

I lead her in the subway to Yorkville, the wagon still old and rusty.  

“You’ll see” I say to justify the long ride, “but the owner has made the place super cute. And their coffee, oh god I don’t know how they do it, or what special training they get but it’s the best thing you will ever taste.”  

“So completely worth the ride, then?”  

I feel a bit guilty when the subway rumbles as if it just ran over something, forcing her to take it when she has a perfectly good ride.  

But when we get in the coffee shop, I can tell she is a bit amazed with the decoration. We sit in one of my favorite booths and I watch her running her eyes over the menu.  

“I guess you already know what you’re ordering?” she asks looking at the paper.  

“Vanilla iced almond milk cappuccino with cinnamon.” I say, smiling. “That’s what I always get.”  

“Is it worth it?”  

I lift an eyebrow.  

“Definitively.”  

It only takes a few seconds before Red, the waitress that is always here, come to serve us.  

“Hello, what can I get you?”   

“Two vanilla iced almond milk cappuccinos with cinnamon.” Rep says, putting down the menu with determination.  

“Anything else?”  

“No thanks,” I answer.   

“Perfect.”  

The ginger takes the two menus on the table and leaves us.  

“Okay” I say, putting my elbows on the table and my head in my hands. “So, you work in a not-worth-it restaurant and have a guitar that you carry with you in the subway. You don’t just play for fun, do you?”  

She laughs; a bit taken aback.  

“Wahoo, you think a lot.”  

I wave the comment off.  

“No, you are right. I am in a group and we're trying to get produced.”  

“Really?” Damn, just when I thought she couldn’t get any cooler. “That’s so cool!”  

She sighs, a deep sound of resignation. “Yeah, sounds cool, but we’re really struggling.”  

Music industry is really hard.  

“You don’t like your job in the restaurant, do you?” I ask.  

She frowns, leaning back. “What are you, a mind reader? It’s a bit scary.”  

I laugh;  

“No, but I spoke of my old job the same way you do with that restaurant.”  

“What did you do?”  

“I was working with kids.”  

“You don’t like kids?”  

I shake my head.  

“I like kids. Just not thirty bad-mannered and mean ones. I swear, once one of them peed on me on purpose.”  

She starts laughing, a clear warm sound.  

“What? What did you do to them?” she asks.  

“Nothing.” I exclaim. “Just trying to do an activity and he was one piece of...” I stop before I do something I will regret. “He was a kid so I won’t insult him, but I really, really disliked him.”  

“You're so cute. You can say he was a piece of shit.”  

My hearts skip a beat at her words. I can feel my stupid face blushing and the heat rising from my cheeks. Fortunately, Red comes back with our drinks.  

I watch her as she sips the cappuccino and laugh at the face she pulls.  

“You do realize this is not even coffee anymore, right?”  

“What do you drink usually?”  

“Black coffee. Espressos. Something drinkable.”  

“Why did you settle on something you knew will be sugary?”  

“I don’t know, last time it got on my shirt, I wanted to see if it’s actually good.”  

“It is. You’re just tasteless.”  

“It’s not coffee!” she says to annoy me, half laughing.  

“It’s objectively good.” I retorque. “The taste is not coffee but it doesn’t take away the fact that it is good.”  

She shakes her head, giving up the argument.  

The next drink she orders is a black americano. The next is a hot chocolate, because that’s enough coffee. The next is another hot chocolate. We stay so long, talking about my life, the flower shop, her music band, her little sister that night falls without us realizing it. I didn’t see time pass and I don’t think I’ve laughed that much in a long time.  

She’s in the middle of explaining how she rebelled with a friend in uni against an openly conservative professor when the reality of my condition catches up with me.  

Nausea hits me and I can’t stop my hand to my mouth.  

I shouldn’t stay out so long; the doctor told me.  

“Are you okay?” she asks worried.  

Something in my stomach curls, and I can feel the puke coming. I put a hand up to tell to wait and focus on my breathing.   

It’s gonna pass, it’s gonna pass, it’s gonna pass...  

I feel my body trying to puke again but I stop it. Then I take a deep breath and sit back up. I feel a bit better.  

“I’m sorry I... I think I’m still a bit sick.” I say, gathering my stuff. “I think I’m going home.”  

“No, you kidding, please do. Where do live?”  

“Really close by, don’t worry I...”  

“I can help you there.” she offers.  

“No, seriously, don’t worry I don’t need...”  

“I’ll go pay and I’ll get you home.”  

I can’t disagree before she goes to the counter. I take deeps breath. Of course I don’t have my anti-vomiting pills here. I feel hot when she comes back and wipe my forehead, starting to glue my bang to my skin.  

“Thanks.” I say when she comes back, holding out an arm to help me.  

I stand up without her help but she keeps a reassuring hand near me the whole process. Then I take a deep breath again. The nausea kind of passed.   

“I’m okay.” I say. I do feel better.  

Not wanting to lose any more time I get to the door. Damn I’ll have to repay her with something.  

“You sure you’re okay?” she asks when we are in the street.  

“Yeah, don’t worry. I have some dizziness sometimes. It’s okay. It has passed.”  

“Okay, so you don’t live far?”  

I point the direction of my flat. “No, just a few blocks this way.”  

We cross the streets and she follows me. “Damn, I think it’s gonna start raining” she says, looking up.  

The sky is indeed really dark and cloudy now.   

As if she summoned it, not even five minutes later thunder groans and rain start pouring down on us. Obviously, it was such a hot day I have nothing to protect me against it.  

“Oh no!” I exclaim, covering my not water proof bag with my arms.  

“Shit!” she shouts. “Come on!”  

We run toward the right street that is really nearby, but not close enough to get completely soak when we get there.  

“It’s here!”  

I open the door and urges her to enter, closing it behind her.  

“Oh my god!” I exclaim, watching her wet shirt beneath her not so waterproof leather jacket gripping her body. Her breast. I look away. “Every time you see me your shirt gets wet!”  

She laughs at that, wringing her braid to get the water out of it.  

“Come on, you’ll wait until it’s over upstairs.” I say, starting to walk up the stairs.  

“You’re sure?” She asks from behind me. “I mean, I don’t want to annoy.”  

I frown. “Are you kidding? I’ve just had the most amazing time of my life; you’re not annoying anyone. Let’s go.”  

I open the door of the appartement that I haven't cleaned in a long time, losing my bag in the entry.  

“You can wait at least until the storm has passed.” I say, feeling so tired suddenly. “Even if you want to sleep here, it’s quite late already.”   

Another wave of nausea suddenly hits me without warning and I grab the chair. I have the pills in my nightstand.  

“You should get to bed.” she says.  

I swallow hardly. I hate being like this. I hate this.  

“Yes.” I say. “I’m so sorry I’m like this.”  

“Please, I don’t care. You should rest.”  

I watch her one last time, this girl I’ve randomly seen in the subway a week ago now in my appartement taking care of me the way she told me she was taking care of her little sister.  

“Can you get me a towel from the bathroom, for my hair?” I ask.  

“On it.”  

I get to the bedroom and fall on my bed. Then I search for the box of pill in my nightstand and take one without water. I’m used to taking pills without water now.   

But now that I’m lying down, I don’t have the strength to get back up. I hear the door open and her distant voice.  

“No towel, then?” she chuckles.  

I try to say sorry, but I can’t really and suddenly the cold from the rain and my wet clothe is lessened as something warm and heavy falls on me. The covers. I’m under the covers.  

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I hear a whisper next to my ear.  

“I’m sorry.” I say, almost crying. “I just need... sleep. Make yourself at home.”   

I hear some noise after that, leaving the room, going far, far away, and then I pass out.  

°°°  

Tuesday May 14 th    

When I get up it’s because of my alarm. I feel sticky and wet everywhere. Fucking cancer, I didn’t even have the strength to change. Nausea hits again when I try to push myself up from the bed. Somehow there’s a glass of water on my nightstand, so I use it to take one anti-nausea pill, and fall back in my bed for the few minutes it takes to have an effect.   

When I do feel better, I get up and undress to go take a shower. When I’m completely naked I leave my room.  

Reputation is standing in my living room.  

I scream in surprise and go back in, shutting the door behind me, seeing her turn around.  

“Oh my god!” I say, stumbling over the wet clothe on the floor to find something to put on.   

“Shit, I’m sorry!” She shouts from behind the door. “I should’ve warn you or...”  

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” I scream back, trying to put on my sweat pants.   

When I have my hoodie on and my heart slowed down, I open the door again, to see this time the plaid of my sofa in rumple over it.  

“What are you... Did you sleep here?” I ask.  

“Yeah, I...”  

“The storm didn’t stop?”  

She looks pretty ashamed.  

“I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry I just... I didn’t want to leave you without making sure you were okay. You looked... not fine at all.”  

“No no, I told you you could stay.” I surge to reassure her.   

But then I realize her words. I didn’t want to leave you without making sure you were okay.  

“I’m so sorry you felt like you had to. I’m really fine. Do you have work? You can leave, I...”  

“It’s okay, I’m on the night shift.”  

“Didn’t you have a rehearsal with your group?” I frown. I pretty sure she mentioned that yesterday, but she just shrugs.  

“They can wait.”  

Joe never stays because of work.   

Guitar Girl did despite it.  

I walk to the kitchen.  

“Do you want breakfast?” I say opening the fridge to see if I have anything.  

“It’s okay, don’t bother for me.”  

I close the fridge. I do not want breakfast; my stomach is in too much knots.  

“Do you want to take a shower?” I offer.  

She looks at me guiltily.  

“I did, yesterday. I hope it’s okay.”  

“Yes! Of course. I’d rather you slept clean on my couch.” I can’t help the amused smile.  

She smiles right back, and it’s like the knots in my stomach melt away.  

“I really don’t want to hold you here if you have a thing with your band.”  

She doesn’t move right away, but keeps smiling, biting her lips like she’s trying to stop it.  

“Okay. You’re sure you’re okay?”  

I nod.  

“I am. Thank you for staying.”  

“It was my pleasure. The Hawaiian shower gel smells amazing.”  

I laugh at that. “I’m off to use it, then.”  

I follow her to the door and open it for her. She lingers in the corridor a bit, rocking from one feet to the other.  

“Okay bye, then?” she says.  

“Not forever, I hope?” I say chuckling.  

Her smile deepens. “No. Not forever. Never forever.” Then she clicks her tongue and go to the stairs. “Bye Love.”  

The nickname takes me by surprise and I can’t answer anything before she goes down the stairs as if my tongue stopped working.  

And when she’s out of sight and it’s too late to answer, I let out a breath and close the door. And like a high school girl I fall against it once it’s closed.  

Maybe not so much cruel, this summer.  

Chapter Text

1989  

Nice to meet you, where you been?  

I could show you incredible things  

Magic, madness, heaven, sin  

Saw you there and I thought  

"Oh, my God, look at that face  

You look like my next mistake  

Love's a game, wanna play?"  

Thursday 9th may  

I wake up so hammered the next day I feel like my head is going to explode. I have to drag myself to the bathroom, where I realize I haven’t even changed, to take a shower and get down before breakfast closes. Because I’m starving and I won’t miss the breakfast that is charged with the room anyway.   

I'm sipping coffee in clean clothes, hidden in a booth at the far end of the cafeteria when someone slips in the seat in front of me.  

“You look worse than me, Tee.” Harry states with a smile.  

“Oh, I’m the one who put you to bed, yesterday. Don’t try to shame me.”  

I sip my burning coffee, washing away the hungover slowly. The cold shower helped a lot too.  

I flirtily smile at him, not wanting to say the next thing. He looks really good right now. Way better than me, as he stated it, without being wrong. His hair looks freshly washed, his clothes are ironed, his cheeks shaved and he is wearing a parfume that smells like buisness men and citrus.   

His little smile is as flirty as me. But he bows, like they all do, in front of my silence.  

“I was about to head to work when I saw you. I wanted to say thank you again for yesterday.”  

I am so hidden in the booth there’s no way he saw me without looking for me. Liar.  

“I’m sorry you have to move here for 3 months.”  

“I.. Told you about that?”  

I chuckle.  

“Yeah.”  

“I don’t really remember last night.”  

“How much did you drink before I got there?”  

“4? 5 drinks?” he shrugs. “How much did you drink once I was asleep?”  

I try to stop my smile, but I can’t.  

“Alright, you got me on that.” I say.  

We laugh a little. I keep digging in my plate, eating my toasts. He doesn’t move, like he clearly wants to add something.  

“What have you planned today?” he asks innocently.   

“I don’t know yet. I take the day as they go”   

He nods, still not over with the train of thoughts in his head I can almost see.  

“Are we still going to my secret spot tonight?” he finally asks.  

“Only if you still want to.”  

I can see relief on his face.  

“Obviously.  Going on a date with a beautiful girl is always something I want to do.”  

“So it’s a date?” I chuckle.  

“Only if you want to.” he repeats.  

I smile, he smiles, we both smile like idiots. And then he gets up.  

“See you tonight then? Should we meet here? At 7?”  

“Sounds good. See you tonight.”  

God, this trip is going well.  

I’ve just finished my toast when a text rings in my phone. I fish it out of my pocket to read it.  

My mood is instantly drowned.  

Aurora Mcfield’s name is at the top of screen.  

You probably saw, your audience is on june 5 th . We need to call.  

My dear lawyer.  

°°°  

“I’m in another state!” I exclaim half an hour later, pacing my crappy hotel room.  

“I need to see you to prepare the trial.”  

“I don’t even understand why there’s a trial, Aurora. There’s a picture of him grabbing my ass.”  

She sighs on the other end.  

“You know the world we live in. The trial is happening.”  

“He is such a dick, I swear. We could have ended this years ago but no, he had to sue me for defamation.”  

“I know. Which is why he is going to lose, but we have to fight back. And you’re doing a very brave thing here, Tee. You’re speaking up for all the other victims of sexual assault, encouraging them to speak as well.”  

I sigh. I hated the idea of a trial, even less a public one, when he is the one that assaulted me, and then got mad that I talked about it and said I was a liar. It could have gone easily if he just kept it at the restraining order, but no, he had to keep it going and hurt further someone he took everything from.  

“It’s just... It feels like being put naked in front of a room full of people that want me to be wrong.” I say.  

“I know. But as you said, there’s a picture. We’re gonna win this. But we need to speak strategy. When are you coming back to Nashville?”  

I sigh, a hand in my hair.  

“I honestly don’t know. I wanted to escape all of this for a bit, you know. I thought I would have more time.”  

“You should be glad it’s soon. Then it would be over even sooner, and you will have a free summer and a clear mind.”  

I sit on the bed, elbow on my knees.   

“I don’t know when I'm coming back. I’ll try and see if...”  

“I don’t want to push you, but the fact that you’re in another state just before the trial will not look good for the judges. Please be back in a week.”  

“A week?!”  

I left to escape Calvin, yes, but also this trial that has been following me for years, that took everything that made my life mine and turned it against me. Calvin was the determinating point. And now it’s only a 1 week break ?  

“To talk strategy and make an appearance. I talked with your publicist. You told me you wanted to do that for every other girl out there that can’t do the same. We need to make it public, and we need to bring you back in the public eye.”  

“I’m done with this, Aurora. I’m done with the stage. I have been for years. I just want him to pay and then I go about a simple life.”  

“That would be letting him win. You can’t act like he won. Vacations are over. I’m telling this as your lawyer; you need to be a celebrity again.”  

I puff at this.  

“I never was a real celebrity, Aurora.”  

“Enough to be hurt by your reputation being dragged in the mud.”  

She’s right. I’m not only doing this for me. And I still have a little fan base. I do still search for my name on tik tok sometime. It’s niche, but they’re here, putting warmth in my heart. But I haven’t sing or write a song in two years now. Just living my low life in Nashville at my parents, passing my degree.  

I fall on my back in the bed. Fuck this. Fuck my life.  

The phone close to my ear, I say determinedly:  

“I will be back in two weeks.”  

And then I hang up before she can disapprove.  

I don’t want to go back, I don’t want to see him, or this life. I don’t want to go public again. But he is the one in the wrong in this story.  

I grab a pillow and scream inside. I was too hungover for this conversation.   

But I am in New York now. And I'm gonna make the most of it. I can make an effort and go back, but I intend on enjoying my stay here.  

So I get up, put on my sneakers and smash the door behind me, to go and discover even more of New York City.  

And take a coffee on the way, because the hotel coffee was undrinkable.  

°°°  

“So how was your day by the way?” I ask, bumping into his shoulder, eating the last few licks of my ice cream.  

Night has completely settled now. After another day to wander around and try to forget about the doom coming on me in june, I met Harry in the hotel, like we planned. We decided we were both starving and went to a restaurant to eat, a French Bistrot in the west village that he always wanted to try, and after a quite disappointing meal he found us ice cream on the way to his secret view spot.   

“Oh, just another day of filing files and writing numbers. How about you? Probably much more fun.”  

“I went to museums. It’s funny how many museums New York has. Did you know there’s a bone museum?”  

“Bone? Like skeleton.” he asks, frowning, hands in his pocket.  

“Exactly like that!” I exclaim, waving with my plastic spoon in the air, almost bumping into someone.  “There’s like, hundreds of skeletons everywhere. I was in the skyscrapper museum, because, yes, that is also a thing, and at the end they were advertising for all the other museums and when I saw that I was like, I have to go see that. Turns out, it’s as creepy as you expect it to be.”  

“What else did you think it would be?” He laughs.  

I lick my spoon, trying to spot a bin somewhere on the sidewalk.  

“Interesting, which, for your information, it was.” I say intimidately pointing the spoon to him. “But very creepy. It’s for medical purpose and progress you know, but still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that that was once someone. That ended up tied to a wall in a museum.”  

“What a way to be remembered, isn’t?”  

“They might not even be real bones.”  

I finally find the bin I was looking for and throw the plastic spoon and cup in, Harry waiting for me a few seconds where I left him. When I come back I casually slip my hand under his arm to grab it and walk next to him.  

I do it to obviously make a move, but also to lean on him. When I went back to the hotel I put back my stilettos, but I didn’t think we would walk too much. But the way from the restaurant to his spot is almost 45 minutes and I said I didn’t mind. Now my feet are on fire.  

He clears his throat but doesn’t say anything, just tightens his arm against him for me to have a good grip.  

“I don’t think I ever asked you but what do you do?”  

“Like my job?” I ask, laughing to hide how uncomfortable that question makes me. My job is the last thing I want to talk about today.  

“Yeah, your job.” he kindly says, trying to know more.  

“I... I don’t have a job, right now.” Not a lie. Good one, Tee.  

“What did you do?”  

“Well, if I'm being honest, I just finished uni. I’m waiting for my result and then I will try to find a real job.”  

“A real job? Did you do a fake job?”  

“Student stuff, you know.”  

I smile, and I’m so grateful when he doesn’t push. I didn’t even realize how long we walked, just talking about stuff and life, and the ice cream, but we reached the bottom of a massive sky scrapper.  

“Alright, it’s here.” he says drpping my arm and walking in front of me to show me the builing. “Might be my favorite place in New York. Come on.”  

“Well, if it’s your favorite place in a city you hate, it must be something.”  

He takes my hand and pulls me with him inside. I’m looking out for a ticket office or something, even though it looks empty, but he just goes straight to a woman under the “reception” board.  

“Hey Lisa. Can you get me the badge?”  

“Harry! Back so soon! Here you go, darling.”  

She hands him the badge so quickly it’s like she was waiting for him to ask.  

“Have fun!”  

I look in disbelief as he takes the pass and takes my hand again to pull me toward an elevator that is definitely not for the public. I don’t think there is any public, actually.  

A guard with a little earpiece and a black costume is in front of it, but he just nods at Harry as we go inside after he pressed the button and unlocked the elevator with the badge.  

The elevator is more spacious and luxuous than my hotel room. It’s a marble floor, golden detail – from the wall to the buttons – and all length mirrors.  

“What just happened?” I ask when the elevator start going up, seamlessly and quietly.  

“I might have lied a little before. My company is super rich. They actually own the place. Or part of the building, actually. That’s where we host big meeting with investor coming to New York City. But the view at night is breathtaking.”  

“You work here?”  

“No” he chuckles. “We have another office in wall street. This is just to show off.”  

“She just said back so soon.”   

“Yeah, I come here to eat too at lunches. I told you it’s my favorite spot in a horrible place I hate.”  

He smiles at me as the number on the digital panel just keep rising. It’s a skyscrapper, so it takes several minutes to ascend, which is not surprising. I get confrontable against one of the mirrors.   

“Oh and prepare for the best part of the ride.”  

Because it’s quite late no one ask for the elevator, so the ascension is undisturbed. And after a few more second, what I thought was a mirror lights up as a glass when the elevator is no longer surrounded by walls but now by New York City.  

The ascension is a bit scary due to the speed and height of it all. I have to grab the bar with my hands to feel a little bit more at ease, as we almost fly above the City That Never Sleeps.  

Everything is lightened up, little points of colorful lights from windows in the surrounding buildings to little streetlamp, so down from here. The other skyscrapper actually starts to look small in comparison to where we’re going, and the river reflects what looks like stars.  

“Oh my god.” I can’t help as I take everything in.  

“Wait until we’re on the balcony.”  

Finally, the impossibly long ride stops, and he takes once again my hand to pull me with him in a labyrinth of dark alley. But every wall is made with glass, and eventually he pushes a door and cold wind come slapping at my face. We enter a huge balcony that not only gives us a view of one elevator wall perspective, but a full 180 of the city. I’m pretty sure I can make out Time Square from here as I approach the edge.  

“Oh my god, Harry it’s...”  

“Breathtaking.” He almost whisper, looking in the distance.  

I turn to him, leaning against the edge.  

“Damn, it’s the most emotional I’ve heard you so far.”  

He smiles, his eyes leaving reluctantly New York City to look at me. But the annoyance quickly disappear, like the view of me is as good as the city.  

“I always come during the day. It’s even crazier at night, I forgot. How do you like it?”  

“It’s... crazy, yes. And amazing. I can’t believe I can see that with no-one around and for free.”  

He sighs and lean next to me.  

“I had to make the stay bearable.”  

I frown.  

“Come on, Harry. You still don’t think New York has a soul?”  

“It’s... more interesting since I met you.”  

The lights of the city reflects in his eyes, dancing on his face.  

“That was yesterday.”   

“And New York has been quite interesting for two days now.”  

He looks at me like he’s going to drown in my eyes. The wind is quite cold throwing my hair left and right, and I press my light jacket around me.  

“Are you cold?” He immediately spot. “Here, take that.”  

He starts taking of his jacket, but I push it away. “No come on, the wind id crazy here, you’re going to be cold too.”  

“It’s okay, really.”  

He doesn’t move, so I take the jacket, wrapping myself in his buisnessman/citrus perfume.  

“Here.” he says between his teeth, fixing the jacket that is as light as mine, just two time too big. He then tries to put my hair behind my ear, but the wind is crazy.  

I laugh in front of his failure attempt when my hair just keeps flying around.  

“Except for the wind, it’s a magical place.” He says, smiling.  

“It’s beautiful. Thank you for sharing this place with me. It was a wonderful date.”  

“So... it is a date?” he asks sheepishly.  

“Does that change how you’re going to end it?” I ask, smiling with the same wicked expression.  

He slowly moves closer to me.  

“If it was a date, I would ask you if I can kiss you.”  

“And if it’s not?” I ask out of curiosity.  

“I would ask if this was a date and then ask to kiss you.”  

I smile, not saying anything, letting him swim in his own words.  

“How many girls have you brought here, Harry?”  

“None.”  

“How many girls have you said that to?”  

He chuckles.  

“I’ve never brought anyone here. I told you I hate New York; I never tried to date because of the risk of deeply falling in love with someone and having to settle down here. But you came up and added some sun in this city.”  

“It was already pretty sunny the last few days.”  

He laughs again but then is much more serious. “So” he asks when the moment passed. “Is this a date?”  

I shake my head, grinning like a kid. “Just kiss me, you idiot.” I grab his neck and then throw my arms around his shoulder. He doesn’t lose a second and kisses me against the edge, long and deep, his hand on my waist.   

This is what I’m alive for. Being kissed in the most beautiful place I have ever seen, surrounded by the most amazing city I have ever been in.  

Not fighting to prove something that is obviously true against a man that did wrong and decided to hurt me even more.  

Chapter Text

The Tortured Poets Departement  

Just say when I play again  

He was my best friend  

Down at the sandlot   

I felt more we played pretend   

Than with all these kens  

Cause he took me out of my box  

Stoled my tortured hearts  

Left all these broken parts  

Told me I’m better off  

Monday 13 th may  

“Darling?” James calls out from downstairs. “Are you ready?”  

“Almost, give me a minute.” I answer, putting on my earing in front of the mirror of our immense bedroom.   

It was always a funny choice to me, to put a shower, bath and sink in the bedroom and not in another room dedicated to it. But even with the massive king size bed the room is so huge there is still plenty of space.   

I check one last time my make up in the glass, wiping a smudge on my bottom lip. Making sure my hair is straigth, I then grab my purse on the side of the table. We wouldn’t want to be late, after all.  

I walk down the stairs of our duplex appartement. The view of New York City from the all glass wall of the living room is still stunning, even after 3 years. That’s what you get when you marry well my dad would say. And well I married, you can say that.  

My husband is waiting at the bottom of the stairs, looking at his rolex in his impeccable suit.  

When he hears my heels against the soften carpet he looks up and stop every motion.  

“Darling. You look magnificent.” he says with that same look on his face he has when he gets an idea for his books.  

I smile politely.  

“You’re quite handsome yourself.”  

He hands me his arm that I grab with my free hand, the other one holding the purse.  

“Gail and her husband said they would get us, they’re waiting downstairs.”  

We motion towards the elevator, our governess still cleaning the couches of the living room waving at us when the door close behind us.  

“Magnificent.” I say a little bit bittersweetly.  

“What’s going on, darling?” I feel him tense against me.  

I push a strand of my perfectly straighten hair out my face.  

“Well, she’s my boss, it’s just a bit strange.”  

“You’ve been to galas she has hosted for author before, haven’t you?”  

“I’ve never been taken there by her. But it’s no worries, really. Tonight is about you, right? Don’t worry I’m just being silly.”  

I smile to him, the perfect wife smile I've been modeling for years now. But he barely turns his head to me before checking his watch.  

I sigh soundlessly as the elevator comes to a stop and the doors open on the fancy entryway of our building. Behind the door to the street a black limo is waiting. When he sees us, the chauffeur comes to greet us and open the door.  

James shows me to go in first, and I sit on the seat quickly followed by him.  

“Poet, good evening. James, always a pleasure.”  

In the seat in front of us are my boss, Gail, the managing editor of Rare Publishing, the agency I work at, and Travis, her husband. He is a renown NFL player in Kansas City and I have no idea how they met and ended up married. All I know is he is a insufferable man who just brags about his career and his money, makes degusting jokes about woman with the rest of New York City publishing elite when Gail invites him to events and has no manner whatsoever about bienséance. Which he somehow manages to get away with around this circle because he is a man, confident, rich and Gail’s husband.  

Even now he is smiling like he owns everything he sees.  

“The pleasure is always mine, Gail.” James says, taking her gloved hand to kiss it. “Travis, back from Kansas City I see? How is the season?” In all truthness I didn’t know he would be here tonight. It is rare that she brings him along to this sorts of events, given his athlete calendar. But i met him enough to dislike him.  

They shake hands, shoulders broad and legs spread, as the driver starts the engine and we go into traffic.  

“Good good, we think it’s going to be a piece of cake this year. That’s why I manage to make time to come back see my beautiful wife.” He brings their intertwined finger to his mouth to kiss it. “And it’s a pleasure to come and see you, James. Gail told me your last book is a bestseller.”  

“The best of our agency since Thus we are.” Gail laughs. “I knew when we first published you you would be a great asset to the agency, James. I must say, your lined are so powerful it’s quite shakening sometimes.”  

“I owe all of this to my greatest inspiration.”  

He takes my hand in a similar way that Gail and Travis are holding hands and bring it to his lips. His fingers are tense against mine, like some sorts of power play where he wants to be the bigger man taking care of his more beautiful wife against a world-renowned athlete.  

“Poet, I must say you look beautiful.” Travis says with a smug smile.   

I think he knows I can’t stand him and his badly mannered ass. But I’m a perfect wife to my perfect husband being rewarded tonight so I just smile. But his little compliment makes James tense. I don't think he likes the man either.  

“Thank you, Mr. Kelce. You two look perfect together.” Gail smiles like a cat being pet, satisfied, looking at her average good-looking man.  

“Tonight is not about us, though. If my wife has been saying right, the Galloways are the real deal, aren’t you guys? Do you have a speech prepared? I don’t think I could ever write a speech to be honest. I don’t have what you guys have... How do I call it already?” he asks turning to Gail.  

“A tortured soul.”  

“Right! I mean, you must be pretty depressed to write stuff, no? Like have feelings and all.”  

James laughs way too loudly at his terrible attempt at a joke. Actually, I don’t think it’s a joke at all, which is even more concerning.  

“I do have a speech prepared. That whole gala is about my book.”  

“Are you working on anything new?” Gail asks innocently.  

But I've worked with her for years, I know what she has in mind. Profit.  

“Jesus, Gail, you do not let me breath!” James jokes. “Of course, I always have something in mind, but I want to let this piece of art live a little before I start anything new.”  

“Of course, it makes total sense. At least it got the attention it deserves. Some journalists have been saying you may have revolutioned writing.”  

“Oh, I would never say that about my own work. But I’m happy I can share a bit of what it is my head and have people liking it.”  

“And this is what writing is about.” she smiles.  

That is not what writing is about for her, but we all have masks all the time.  

The rest of the drive Travis asks all sort of question about the book, that James is much more than happy to answer, the initial masculine pissing contest being wiped by his eagerness to talk about himself. Until eventually the limo stops in front of the huge hotel hosting the Gala tonight.  

Photographers and journalist are waiting around the entrance and flashes are snapping as James leaves first and then hand me his hand for me to follow. We start walking toward the door, James waving at the cameras. But when Travis Kelce exits the car as well all the cameras are on him.  

He is an idiot, but he is an American sport superstar.  

I can hear James clear his throat in annoyance.  

“This is supposed to be about me.”  

“It is” I say, squeezing his arm reassuringly. “They’re just paparazzi, James. Inside are the real important people. Come on, let’s show them who James Galloway is.”  

He smiles and kisses my head.  

“What would I do without you, darling.”  

We walk inside but I can’t help to look back at Travis and Gail. He is having so much fun being the center of the attention it’s almost disgusting.  

Inside the building the whole event is magnificent, as always when Rare Publishing hosts. The hotel is one of the fanciest hotel in New York, with butler instantly offering champagne to everyone coming in. In front of us is the empty reception and on the right is a red carpet-covered stairs going upstairs. But more importantly, on the left is an open door toward the function room where many guest are already gathered. James put his hand on my waist, and I let him lead me toward the people.  

He is welcome with greeting from the guests, waving at him and exclaiming their wonder. The whole crowd suddenly feels like it’s coming toward us.  

“Galloway, I needed to tell how good this book is!”   

“Sir, I’m such a big fan I...”  

“Mr Galloway it’s such an honor...”  

“James, you did again, my big boy!”  

The official photographers take our pictures, yelling for the people to give some space for their cameras. James just smiles and shakes hands, perfectly at ease.   

“Sir, sir, would you mind answering some question about...”  

“Leave the man be!” Gail shouts, coming just behind us, using that voice she has to protect her writers. “A press conference is planned later this week to which you’re all welcome.”  

Facing her authority, they all back off, letting some of James friends come closer.  

“Galloway you did it!” Seth Davidson approaches and takes my husband in his arms. Cameras are flashing behind them. He lets him go then and turn to me grabbing my arm politely to kiss my cheek. “Poet, you’re goregous.”  

“It’s good to see you, Seth.” I say but he barely hears it and goes back to my husband.  

“You just broke the all-time record of Rare, did you know that? Your book is all everyone is talking about and...”  

He takes him by the shoulder and pushes him toward the buffet, away from me. James just let's go of my hand and follows his friend.   

Seth Davidson is the marketing director of Rare. I’ve known him from before I married James. He is quite cold with people that don’t make him or Rare look good. When I first read James work and initiated that we published it, he was skeptical. But ever since his first bestseller novel that I single handedly edited, no one believing in it, he changed his behavior around me. When James became one of their best authors, and I ended up marrying him, I got some fame around Rare.   

I watch him go along with some author friends he likes to meet to talk about literature and smoke cigar, the kind of men that talk loudly to say nothing.  

Sometimes I look at him and I’m overwhelmed by love and gratitude. And then sometimes he just leaves without looking back and all I feel is a void.   

Our love story was one worth being written in books. Me, young editor that got my first job, crawling in student debt, basically making coffee for everyone. No one would take me seriously. And James, coming in the first publishing agency he could find motivated by his parents. He was a man with a dream and money from his family. But no one at Rare really likes pretentious douchebags that think they have talent when they only have means.   

I promised I would read his book. I did, offered some correction and put it on Gail desk. I saw the potential and she was amazed at what I did with that first draft. They met, and then I worked hard with James to make his book great. It was my first real project on that job.   

It got published a few months later. And the freshness and depth of his characters got into the hearts of the public.   

It was a bestseller and even got a prize for best first book.   

They all loved me by then at Rare. I got more project, more responsibility, more money. And I got to work with James for all of his books. He was mine, my client, my achievement. His story telling and my sensibility made his novels great. And then what was obviously going to happen happened.   

He swore he loved me. I was young and mesmerized because he made me his queen, his everything. I was what made him great. I was his one and only.   

Before I knew it, he asked me to marry him. I was drunk on love and success. 2 years after meeting him for the first time I met his family and put a ring around his finger. I moved in the massive duplex he bought for us with the money of his success, and for three years now I’ve shared his life there.   

I went from a young girl lost in debt and the massive New York City to the wife of one of the most famous authors of the United States.  

“Hey!”  

I turn around at the sound clearly addressed to me. Emerging from the crowd is my colleague and best friend dressed in a beautful to-the-floor black dress, Evermore.  

“Poet, the one I was looking for.” she says with her arms open in greetings.