[text to Juliet: I’ll be late. Jackson’s retirement party is still going.]
[text to Juliet: Don’t wait up.]
[text to Juliet: Miss you. Love You.]
Gideon slid his phone back into his pocket, not waiting for a reply text from his wife. She’d understand. Part of him wanted to slip away, leave them all behind and simply hold her close to his chest, but Gideon knew he owed it to his old partner to stick out the night.
The back room of the bar smelled of booze, temping Gideon to break sobriety with each inhale; every exhale a moment of relief. Not one for the spot light, Gideon had remained in the periphery for most of the night, giving quiet nods to those he knew, making light conversation as required, a tonic and lime in his left hand, contrasting sharply with the darkness of his skin.
Gideon had hoped to spend the rest of the evening observing others and focusing on something other than the familiar smell of spiked punch, but fate would prove to be unkind to him tonight. Parker was approaching, a smile on her face, and two drinks in her hands.
“Evening” He greeted with a nod. “Are those both for you?” He asked, with an amused eyebrow raised.
Adrian Greengrass came home from work with a smile on his face. Newly married, there was little for him to complain about. He had a decent job and a beautiful wife. The only thing there really was for him to complain about was the fact that his father’s health had been deteriorating. Adrian hoped that coming back to England to take over some of the house duties would allow his father to improve.
After he arrived home, Adrian went upstairs to see if Camilla was ready for the event they’d been invited to. The dinner party was a bit dry, of course, but the most important members of the Wizengamot would be there and of course Adrian had to attend. When he got upstairs to the bedroom, his eyebrows rose at Camilla on the bed. “Darling, we’re going to be late,” he drawled.
E mais uma vez tinham chegado em casa após brigarem novamente, claramente Angela não iria conseguir um jantar decente sem chegar em casa com a cara fechada do noivo. Infelizmente, nesse jantar, aconteceu algo que deixou os dois surpresos. Mas toda surpresa vinha com uma consequência, e a consequência de Ansel era a raiva. O ódio e a grosseria corria nas veias dele como sangue, era impossível o controlar quando a respiração ficava pesada e os passos firmes, era como tentar acalmar um leão com fome e Angela não era uma boa domadora, geralmente era atingida, não de forma física, mas emocional. Enquanto jogava a bolsa de predaria no sofá, a morena se virava para escutar a resposta dele, estava farta daquilo, era extremamente desnecessário.
— Meu problema? Quer saber a porra do meu problema! Meu problema é aquele cara que fica atrás de você o tempo todo. Eu disse que ele estava ficando a fim de você, e você vinha com aquele papo de amigos de infância, me engana que eu gosto, Angela.
— “Me engana que eu gosto, Angela”? Que tipo de frase é essa? Tá achando que eu te traí com o Daniel ou o quê?
— Eu não estou dizendo que você me traiu com ele, estou dizendo que ele está errado! Ele sabe que você está noiva, ele não tinha que ter dito aquelas coisas, tinha que ter guardado para si e ficado quieto, iria evitar tudo o que ocorreu no restaurante.
— Sim, foi errado ele ter dito, mas não teve cabimento você ter ido embora daquela forma e você foi grosseiro com o garçom!
— Não foi de propósito, ok? Eu estava e estou com os nervos a flor da pele com aquele cara e amanhã vou ter uma conversa com ele.
[ • • • ]
Era uma noite rara em que Ansel levava a noiva para um jantar, geralmente ele estava muito ocupado com os estudos para que pudesse dar alguma atenção para a moça, mas quando disse que tinha feito uma reserva no restaurante mais caro da cidade, a mulher passou o dia inteiro se preparando para aquele momento. Ansel não era um homem muito romântico, nunca tinha dito palavras doces para a bruxa. Ela se lembrava apenas de uma frase que ele tinha dito para ela que chegava a ser uma declaração de amor não induzida pela pressão dela. Foi exatamente na época em que alguns habitantes da cidade que a consideravam como ameaça e traiçoeira, vieram a perseguir pelas ruas. Ansel não a defendeu, mas no silêncio da noite quando estavam juntos, ele disse:
“Angel, eu te amo tanto que seria capaz de matar qualquer um por você.”
Aquela frase a fazia se sentir amada, segura, acolhida. Ninguém nunca tinha dito aquilo para ela e finalmente pôde confiar nele de olhos fechados. Mas ao decorrer do relacionamento era como se ela sempre levasse todo a responsabilidade de amar e ser amada nas próprias costas. Ela sentia isso mas preferiu simplesmente ignorar aquele sentimento, é claro que ele a amava. Ela estava plena e feliz.
— Ansel... Por que você me ama?
— Eu me faço essa pergunta todos os dias.
— Você ama a pessoa mais odiada de Salem, sabia? Uma bruxa. É perigoso pra sua imagem, isso é...
— Eu sei. E não ligo para essas pessoas, eu estou feliz com você, ok? — Eu te amo.
— Eu também te amo.
Parecia tudo perfeito. Parecia tudo bem, ela estava com alguém que a amava, mas por que aquele sentimento ruim ainda estava ali. Era como se as palavras que ele dissesse não estivessem tão cheias de sentimento, como se ela pudesse ser trocada sem muito esforço. Por qualquer uma. Uma menina normal que não fosse problemática, uma garota normal, bonita e inteligente. Ela era descartável. Sempre que tentava espantar aquele pensamento, aquela droga voltava a sua cabeça como se tivesse tentando apagar fogo com um lança-chamas. Durante o jantar, enquanto o homem mexia no celular, Angela percebeu que o seu também vibrava e desbloqueou a tela para que pudesse ver a mensagem que havia chegado.
Danny : Angie? Sou eu, Dandy, pode vir aqui em casa? Tenho algo para te dizer.
Angie : Oi? Estou no meio de um jantar, Daniel. Com o Ansel, eu te falei. Como está indo o encontro com a Beatrice?
Danny : Foi chato. Ela não é meu tipo, ainda não engoli o que ela disse naquele dia. Sinto que ela não é confiável.
Angie : Ela é minha assistente há dois anos, Dandy, claro que ela é confiável. Vai por mim, ela só fez aquilo porque estava tentando chamar a sua atenção. Não foi por mal, meninas fazem isso.
Danny : Angela.
Angie : Diga.
Danny : Acho que gosto de você... Da maneira errada.
Angie : Maneira errada?
Danny : Eu amo você, Angela.
Naquele momento o coração de Angela acelerou e o olhar de Ansel seguiu até o dela, parecendo decodificar a mensagem antes que ela pudesse abrir a boca para dizer algo sobre aquilo. Não podia mentir, ia ser bem pior.
— Quem é?
— Daniel. O olhar fulminante dele já dizia tudo o que se passava em sua mente, mas Angela se concentrou para que ele não entrasse em estado de fúria.
— Não. — Ela pediu. — Em casa a gente conversa.
[• • •]
— Angela. Olha pra mim. Você não vai mais falar com aquele cara, você está entendendo o que eu estou dizendo a você? Amanhã vou conversar com ele e dizer pra ele ficar longe de você.
— Não! Ele é meu amigo. Não vou me afastar do meu amigo por causa disso.
— Então fica com ele e longe de mim.
— Ansel, que infantil!
— Infantil? O cara diz pra você que gosta de você, mesmo sabendo que você está noiva! Ele era nosso padrinho, porra! Por que está defendendo tanto ele? Vai ver gosta dele também.
— Não! Eu não posso escolher uma coisa que eu quero fazer?
— Não. Faz o que você quiser, não temos mais nada.
— Não... — Em um ato repentino, a garota segurou o braço do rapaz que estava um pouco trêmulo. Sentiu que ele estava prestes a chorar. — Eu... Vou dar um jeito de me afastar, ok? Só... Fica comigo. Eu preciso de você.
“Eu mataria qualquer um por você...”
A voz ecoando na cabeça de Angela a fez sentir o mesmo sentimento do restaurante. Ele era tudo que ela precisava, não podia deixá-lo ir. Era seu porto seguro e não iria o deixar escapar, não poderia perder um amor novamente.
((Something seem’s to be coming back to you.... there’s a weird sense of déjà vu as you remember these past events in almost perfect clarity. You have a feeling this isn’t the last time these flashbacks will happen.))
"There's the man I was looking for!" Adam popped out of nowhere-- well, not nowhere. He just turned the corner. But he popped out like he is suddenly materializing-- with his wide, seemingly perfect grin. He took off his hat and put it on the table as he sat down across to Jon Wolfe. "I've been looking for you all over the place! What are you doing out here? Doesn't matter. I know what we need to do. We need to rematch, mate." And by rematch, Adam meant poker. He was so confident about his poker face which is always cloaked behind his somewhat-creepy-half-smile. He was practically unbeatable in poker-- even when he couldn't bother to cheat-- until this one. And it was getting kind of embarrassing how he's been losing money to the game. He slammed the deck on the table. "I'm getting my money back!"
Everything had happened so fast and Mason could barely wrap her head around it. Apparently there had been someone important at her school's talent show who had seen her perform and took an interest in her and after a crazy chain of events, she managed to get a demo deal. So at the moment, she was packing her things to move to LA to record a demo to show the label and see if they liked it and wanted more from her. When her mom called up to her and told her Kaitlin was here to see her, she was a bit surprised. Kaitlin had been kind of distant with her lately and she was baffled as to why. She called back to her mom and told her to send her up. A small smile appeared on her face when she saw her best friend standing in her door way. "Hi Kay." She said softly.
Not all who wonder are lost (But most don’t know the way) || flashback para
Colleen Krieger was living in a world where everything was right.
That should have been her first clue.
----
In the mornings, she was happy.
She woke to blue eyes, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he watched her, with adoration she still didn’t understand, clear in the pup’s gaze, warm fur against her skin.
“Hey Axel,” she whispered, and kissed the top of his furry head.
----
In the afternoons, she was happy.
She went to class in jeans and a tshirt, humming under her breath. She sat and listened to lecture after lecture, taking notes and learning things she’d never given much thought to before that moment. When classes end she headed to the stadium, bag slung over her shoulder, smile on her face even though she knew the days practice was going to be hell.
“Hey guys,” she said, waving to her teammates as she entered the locker room.
----
In the night, she was happy.
She no longer collapsed into bed at ten o’clock like she used to after a hell practice, all pain and exhaustion, stiff movements and a hazy mind. She stayed up with her roommates, talking and laughing and partying because isn’t that what college was for? Making friends and making mistakes and learning? When the doorbell of their apartment rang, Colleen opened the door and grinned to her team.
“Hey strangers,” she smiled, waving in the party.
----
Colleen Krieger’s life was perfect.
And really, she should have known better.
----
“Kriegs, bring the damn popcorn!”
Colleen smiled and shut the fridge door, juggling a bottle of vodka and multiple bags of chips in her arms. “Yeah, yeah, hold your horses!”
“It’s starting soooon!” Sarah yelled from the couch, placing a red solo cup to her lips and sipping the substance.
Shaking her head, Colleen just barely managed to snag the popcorn bag from the microwave before heading over to the couch. Plopping down on the sofa, she placed the bottle of vodka on the glass table and handed out the food.
“So just so I understand,” Kelley said from the floor, opening the bag on popcorn. “Every time someone does something stupid, we drink?”
Colleen let out a laugh. “Exactly!”
Kelley’s eyebrows furrowed. “But,” she paused, looking to her two roommates, “it’s called Wrong Turn 5. Pretty sure even the actors were stupid for signing on to film it.”
“Exactly!” Sarah exclaimed, holding up her cup. “So we should drink now.”
The three roommates shrugged in unison and drank from their cups. Beer wasn’t something Colleen particularly enjoyed all that much, it tasted horrible and had too many calories for her to count, but she’d gotten used to it here at Penn. After all, you couldn’t show up to a party and not drink. Well, you could, but people would ask you if you wanted a drink constantly and she figured she’d avoid all of the hassle and drink from the get go.
“Look, look, look!” Sarah pointed to the TV screen, face alight in glee. “It’s starting! God this is going to be so horrible, I’m actually stoked.”
Kelley shook her head sadly, a grin tugging at her lips. “Dear lord we are not going to be sober by the end of this. I’m feeling it.”
Colleen let out a bark of laughter. “Let’s be real. We aren’t going to be sober even halfway through it.”
A groan attacked her two roommates and Colleen let out a wild grin. “Hey,” she eyed both of them as the phone in her jeans pocket rang. “I warned both of you.” Getting to her feet, Colleen made her way to the hallway of their small apartment, placing the iPhone to her ear. “Hello?”
“Is this Ms. Colleen Krieger?”
A feminine voice wafted through the phone line. Soft. Light. And filled with…pity?
Colleen’s eyebrows furrowed slightly and for some reason, she could feel her heart beat faster in her chest. “This is her. May I ask who’s calling?”
“This is Manassas General.” She knew the Hospital immediately. She’d been to it multiple times back in High School for soccer related injuries. “We’re sorry to be contacting you so late but there’s…there’s been an accident…”
There was a sudden ocean raging inside of her head. Her world tilted and Colleen almost fell sideways as she listed to the woman’s words. A hand, shaking and suddenly so cold, rested against the wall as she lost grip on reality. “I…I…” she couldn’t find her voice through the dryness of her throat.
She wasn’t crying, wasn’t yelling, wasn’t doing much of anything. She couldn’t. She was stuck between shock and denial and her mind was slowly shutting down on her.
And then she was moving.
She turned swiftly, making her way to the front door. Grabbing her car keys hanging on the wall, she ignored the concerned calls from her roommates and stepped out into the March night. She was down the apartment stairs and in her car before she knew she had moved at all.
Pealing out of the parking lot, she was on the interstate by the time her phone rang for the third time, Kelley’s face flashing on the screen. Colleen ignored it, white knuckles clenched on her steering wheel.
This was a sick joke. Someone was fucking with her. She would drive home and kill whoever thought this was even remotely funny. Grabbing her phone, she dialed her father’s cell phone number. It ra—I’m sorry. The number you have dialed has been disconnected.
Something pulled at Colleen’s chest as she dialed her mother’s number. That too, ran—I’m sorry. The number you have dialed has been disconnected.
“No,” she shook her head. She could feel it now. Wrenching inside of her chest. It was growing. The deep pit of despair that she knew would find her was beginning to rear its ugly head. “No, no, no, no. Oh, God no.”
----
Colleen Krieger drove until her car ran out of gas twenty miles after getting onto I-66 East.
And then she got out and ran.
She didn’t know where she was. She didn’t much care about that. All she knew was that she needed to get home. She needed to because…because why? Because she needed to know? Because she needed to see it for herself? No. She just needed to get home. Home was safe. It was familiar. It was where…her parents were.
A stitch in her side made her double over outside of the Fort Royal Country club. Her clothes stuck to her body, sweat pouring from her face, sliding to her chin and dripping to the dirt covered ground.
Her phone rang for the thirty-second time.
Through her exhaustion she pulled the device from her pocket, falling backwards to her butt when Thomas’ face stared back at her. Pulling the heels of her feet towards her, she dropped her head between her knees and answered the phone.
“Colleen! Colleen!? Fuck, Colleen where are you?” He was short of breath, frenzied, concerned, and probably about twelve other emotions she’d probably understand if she wasn’t so damn tired. “…Colleen what were you thinking?! Kelley and Sarah have been calling me all night. They told me you just up and left. What were you think—”
“Mom and Dad,” the names were mud in her dry mouth.
That silenced him.
“I’m at the airport heading to a Red Eye right now,” he said after a moment and all of the fight, all of the anger and concern, was gone. He just sounded…empty. “Just…just tell me you’re okay. Please. Just. You have to be okay…”
“I’m okay,” Colleen responded on autopilot. Because she knew if she didn’t, he’d collapse in on himself. Because as of this moment, they were all each other had left.
He let out a short, fake laugh so dead of emotion she wondered if either of them would ever feel anything ever again. “I love you for lying to me,” he said.
I love you for knowing I’m lying.
----
There was no way to make this anything other than what it was.
A tragedy that knew no boundaries, a story that just ended, a story without a happy finish, or a bow, or a nice wrap up. A coat of paint, a song and dance, a prayer, the powers of bargaining…
None of those things would bring about a happy ending that never was. Because believe her, she had tried.
Life was hard. It was cruel. It wrecked you. Cut you up. Wormed its way into your heart. A pain of the sickest kind. It put your will to be here through a juicer. All the sugar in the world wouldn’t make the bitter mess of blood, hopelessness and tears sweet.
