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Jacqueline Carlyle has spent ten years as Editor-In-Chief of Scarlet magazine, and this is the way she is going out?
Her relationship is breaking apart. Her beloved marriage is long for the dust.
But the fact of the matter is that it was crumbling a long time ago, and she just didn't see it. She just didn't see the way that she and Ian were drifting apart, the way that the years caught up to them where he left to go to Ukraine and she was left at home, picking up the pieces of a puzzle that broke apart a long, long time ago.
The memories of their marriage are brittle in her mouth. Aching in the hollow of her heart. She hasn’t been able to open up any of their photo albums- the physical books, bound in leather with laminated pages to protect physical photos that always creaked beneath her fingers in the same way that the pages of the magazine did, a reminder of the endurance of physical media and the power that it could have on the senses, that sensual pull back to memory and nostalgia and endurance that she had always thought would carry both her beloved magazine and her marriage through.
But Ian gone and so is the physical Scarlet, the last issue that she blew up her career for as gone with the smoke and the wind as her career is, and all that she has left is the remnants of a life that she never predicted for herself.
There are new opportunities, she has to think, if she doesn’t want to go insane. There are new chances, in all things.
New bright lights. New chances to set the fashion world ablaze.
Whoever said that you can't restart at this point in your life?
There are far worse mid-life crisises that a lady could have. Cheating, embezzling, selling her house and moving into a commune (actually, that one seems kind of appealing, now that there is no Scarlet to think of), adopting a new kid, all that jazz.
(Or even, mayhaps, the reemergence of a bisexuality that hadn't seemed to matter as much when she was in a happy marriage. The admiration of the female form would not have tempted her away from wedding vows, but now that Ian is gone-
Crushes on subordinates seem all the rage, these days.
When she had found out about Richard and Sutton, it had been with a bit of a sour taste in the mouth, considering what had happened to Jacqueline herself back in the day.
But now that she is not the Editor-in-Chief of Scarlet-
No. She has no idea if Jane even leans that way, and she knows that it is a bad idea to start something new so soon after her relationship went up in flames, and it’s just a temptation that Jacqueline does not need right now.
And yet-
There is something about that stubborn drive of Jane's, that determination to become the kind of writer that Jacqueline was once upon a time, that is so captivating.
Jacqueline has been in this industry for so long, has seen so many headstrong young voices come and go, and yet Jane Sloan sometimes makes her feel like a moth to a flame.
---
The doorbell to Jacqueline’s apartment rings, and she opens up the door to find Jane Sloan of all people.
“Kat, Sutton, and I had something we wanted you have,” Jane starts, tapping her fingers against a magazine in her hands, but her brow furrows when she sees the boxes over Jacqueline’s shoulder. “Is everything…alright? Are you moving?”
God. Jacqueline needs a drink. She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to handle this without it.
Jacqueline is not doing this conversation sober, and it's not as if she hasn't gotten tipsy in front of Jane before.
“Come on in, Miss Sloan,” Jacqueline says, “I need a drink for this.”
And Jane obliges.
---
Once they’re settled on the sofa with drinks in hand, they get down to talking about things. About the elephant in the room, the boxes that are heading to storage or to Ukraine with Ian, because that feels easier to discuss than the lack of Scarlet left for Jacqueline to concentrate on.
And Jane Sloan, in her characteristically earnest way, has to offer up her own broken heart to the table, just to try and make someone else feel better.
“Well, Ryan and I…we're on a break, right now. He, well-” Jane swallows. “There were…differences between us when he went on tour, and when he got back, I decided that I wanted to take a break.”
Jacqueline has been around the block enough times to know that “differences when we were in the long-distance phase of things” can often translate to “someone kissed or fucked someone that they shouldn't have.”
“Well,” Jacqueline says, and she cannot believe that she is about to discuss her ex-subordinate’s love life with her, but life is so much different now than it was even 24 hours ago. She feels so weary, without her job, without her marriage, with her entire world crumbling down around her. And so why not try to make sure that someone else doesn’t have to feel the same way that she does? “You deserved better than that. We both did, I think. But what I'm learning now is that starting over can be a very good thing-”
Jacqueline doesn't get to finish what she's saying, because in the moment between one thought and the next, Jane Sloan is leaning in and kissing her.
Jane is all youthful vigor and looking-before-you-leap normally, and that’s likely what this is, but god, her mouth is soft and a bit tacky with fading lipstick and the sour sting of a bottle of vodka, and Jacqueline wants that.
God, she wants that fire.
God, she wants the energy of someone willing to burn the candle at both ends, because maybe if there’s a fire going, you’ll have a big enough spark to light up a firework bright enough to light up the entire sky.
Jacqueline reaches out a hand to cup Jane’s cheek and pull her in even closer as Jane’s mouth opens up beneath hers, letting Jacqueline in, letting Jacqueline taste the vodka and greasy takeout on her tongue that she must have gotten on the way home from New Jersey and her heroic attempt to be a white knight.
Jane's cheek is soft beneath Jacqueline's hand, the opposite of Ian's stubble, but she enjoys it nonetheless.
As a matter of fact, she revels in it, revels in the fact that Jane is full of so much life, full of so much stubborn fire, that she could restart the cold star that has burned itself to dust inside of Jacqueline’s chest.
But Jane unfortunately, after awhile, pulls back, and Jacqueline is left hollow and adrift once against as Jane clears her throat. “I’ve got to go,” she says, and she seems genuinely apologetic about that fact, “But Kat, Sutton, and I’ve gotta go take care of some stuff. But, um…” She hands Jacqueline the magazine, that perfect copy of Jacqueline’s magnum opus that no one will ever get to see. “We thought you should have this,” Jane says, “You deserve to have it.”
Then Jane is slipping out the door, heading to parts unknown, taking all the air in the room with her, and Jacqueline is left to slump back against the sofa behind her, taking a deep breath even as the scent of Jane’s perfume and alcohol blisters against her skin, setting forth an itch she hasn’t felt in so long.
Jacqueline has always been a hungry person. A person who knew what they craved and was unafraid of going after it. Someone who devoured every obstacle that was sat in her way.
But while she and Ian had a healthy sex life for a long time, it has dwindled for years. Jacqueline hasn’t felt lit up like a live wire in so goddamn long.
There is something in Jacqueline’s chest hammering like a schoolgirl with a crush.
Right now, there is electricity buzzing beneath her skin, bright as a Scarlet billboard in Times Square.
New York City is the city of dreams. The city that never sleeps. The city where dreams are made and crushed, where you go to get a new start, where you go to prove something.
And Jacqueline thinks-
She has a severance package and a life with which to do whatever she decides with and a magazine in her hands for her to finally look over with no pressure as to whether or not it will perform.
Jacqueline is still grieving Scarlet and the giant part of her body that was carved away from when it was taken from her, but if she went out with a bang, supernova bright, what’s to say that she can’t find a way to start over in her own nebula?
---
Someone leaks the magazine, and Kat goes to bat for Jacqueline, and before she knows it, she is on top of the ladder again, in charge of the magazine that has been her baby for so long, and it’s all she ever wanted-
And in the meeting where they announce that Scarlet is going to be going entirely digital from now on, Jane won’t stop looking at her, gaze steady, unafraid, just like she always does.
And Jacqueline thinks, there are so many ways that this could go so goddamn wrong.
And Jacqueline thinks, there is no chance that this doesn’t come toppling down.
And Jacqueline thinks, that kiss was probably just Jane trying to fill a hole after what happened with her and her boyfriend.
And Jacqueline thinks, her mouth tasted like potassium nitrate and aluminum, gunpowder and a goddamn spark.
Years ago, Jacqueline pushed Jane Sloan to take a goddamn risk.
And right now, with her world restarting, it’s hard to remember all the reasons why she shouldn’t do the same thing herself.