Tagging: Charlie Brewington with mentions of @trixie-windsor
Trigger Warnings: Alcoholism, Depression.
“Charlotte!” Elliot laughed, coughing when he felt a piece of rice going down the wrong pipe. “Oh boy! You were somewhere else there weren’t you?” The older man, now cleanly shaven and with a smile that could light up any room put his food to the side and held out his hand for Charlie. “Dance with me, Charlotte. Come on, girl. Let’s go.”
Lord Huron’s The Night We Met played in the background. Charlie had brought Elliot an Easter basket and some food. It seemed appropriate to spend the day with him. “I really don’t know if I should…” She whispered but he insisted, taking her hand and pulling her upwards.
Charlie rose from her spot and laughed softly when the others encouraged her to slow dance with the man. She placed her hand in his and looked up at him with a softened expression. “You have very nice eyes, Elliot.”
“Well, thank you.” he grinned and spun her gingerly. “I’ve gotta thank you somehow! You just won’t let me!”
“This is thanks enough.” She stayed close, glad she couldn’t smell an ounce of alcohol on his breath. “Is it hard? Staying sober?”
“Oh very much so.” he laughed and shook his head. “None of this is easy, Charlotte. Doable, yes. Easy? Nah! Did you get the car fixed?”
She shook her head in response and laid her head on his shoulder. “No, sir.”
Elliot arched a brow. “Why are you so sad, girl? What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Charlie shrugged and wrapped her arms around his neck like she did once with her dad. If she closed her eyes, she went back to Easter Sundays in the Brewington home. There were egg hunts and food, lots of food. Sometimes, they’d invite friends and family over and they’d play music and sing songs, play board games and dance in the living room. It was a beautiful feeling. She remembered feeling full, like she was a part of something.
“I’ve lost my best friend. And I feel...so...detached?” She wiped her eyes, still keeping her head in place. “I’m supposed to get married in a couple of weeks and I’m not sure if my match pities me or just puts up with me or both...it’s...it’s stupid.” She hated feeling this way. Hated not having control of a situation.
“You know, Charlotte. I look at you and I don’t see someone who’s pitiful. I see someone who’s strong and kind. Can you talk to your best friend?”
“She doesn’t want to see me. She ...well, she hates me.”
“I doubt that’s true.” Elliot pulled away. “Now I know I’m not your papa but I think he would be so proud of you, ya know? For helping me. For being a good person. I don’t think it’s possible to hate someone like you.”
She smiled and looked away. “How do I help someone who doesn’t want the help?”
Elliot took a deep breath and held Charlie’s hands in his, looking down at her with a soft smile. “Make yourself available. Inform yourself. Stay at a distance. Speak to someone too. You’re also going through it.You can’t force them to believe anything is wrong — wrong enough to warrant some major changes in their life. 1) Change is scary and 2) Admitting you have huge innate flaws is scary. People like to think they have a handle on themselves until they really, really don’t. And even then sometimes, they will fight you, kicking and screaming, and still not realize they are in trouble. They’re so used to being on a boat with a hole in the bottom, retaining water, that they don’t even believe in boats without that.” He sighed, knowing this was hard for her to hear. “Maybe at first you do help them, gently making suggestions, then more adamantly pushing them to admit they have a problem. But then they harden. They turn stubborn and think you’re trying to sabotage them or that you’re overreacting or that you don’t care about them, when all you’re doing is caring. I know it’s frustrating. It’s like a terrifying Ferris wheel, where they keep going ’round and ’round, making the same mistakes over and over while you stand on the ground and watch, sucking in breath through your teeth and holding your tongue.” He bit his lip. “But you gotta let them figure it out. Like my family did with me. She doesn’t hate you. And you’ll both find your way again...you’re not going to lose her entirely. At least I feel it in my heart.”
Charlie took a deep breath and kept quiet, nodding in response. “Okay.”
“Okay…” Elliot looked over to the spread on the table. “Now come on. These pies won’t eat themselves.”
She smiled and let go of his hands, watching him partake with the others in the center, sitting back down in the corner and moving the dominoes on the table around. She shifted one back and forth, tapping her fingertips on the hardwood, waiting for time to pass until it was time for her to leave and time to get back on the road. All she could picture was a red Ferris Wheel and it wouldn’t stop spinning. She sucked in her breath through her teeth and held her tongue, eyes glued to the domino.
Setting: Trixie Apartment, 2:17 PM, April 13th, 2018
Triggers: Alcoholism and Alcohol Detox
Note: It jumps around and isn’t very coherent at times, but that was done on purpose since that’s pretty typical for a detox mindset.
Mentions: @ari0estrada and @charlie-bee
Cut for Length (1078 words) and Triggers
Trixie didn't want to get up.
Really, she didn't want to do anything as she laid on the bed, wishing that she could just fall asleep. She hadn't slept very much since she had gotten there. Or to be exact, she hadn't done much of anything. Except cry, and sweat, and shake, and think over and over that this had been a horrible idea.
Even though it wasn't.
It had been three days since she had the detox nurse move in. Three days that she had been sober. And three days that she really wished that she could have a drink and just make all of this stop. Plus it would probably make Savannah stop lecturing about hydration while shoving water and Powerade at her all day. Which as she heard the nurse start her way up the stairs again, Trixie really wished that she was up for throwing a pillow at her.
"Come on, drink this cup and I won't bother you for another hour, alright?" Savannah coaxed, which only made the woman roll her eyes before grabbing the cup and starting to sip it. It was at least better than having to listen to the lecture that she was pretty sure that she could quote by heart now. "You know I was thinking that now that you're starting to do better that you could invite..."
"No," Trixie immediately interrupted, "I don't want anyone else here for this."
There had been a number of reasons that Trixie had chosen this program. The fact that it wouldn't get out to the press because she wouldn't be checking in anywhere. The fact that they seemed to be very consistent in making sure that she'd be okay. The fact that she would still be able to see Lady every day. But most of all that they had a very strict privacy clause and she could be sure that nobody would find out what was going on. Not until she was ready. And Trixie wasn't yet. She didn't want the pity, she didn't want the looks, she didn't want people to start assuming her issues. And even though she knew that her friends would try to be supportive, Trixie wasn't sure that she wanted to hear it yet. She didn't know if their support would help, she didn't know if she wanted to constantly talk about it yet.
It was still new to her.
Trixie had been denying that she had a problem for months. Even though it had probably been years that she'd just been avoiding thinking about it. Figuring that she had enough control, that she finally was able to be herself that she could do whatever she wanted. And it just became something entirely different. And she'd pushed Charlie away when she tried to help, even though Trixie still stood by her feeling that her friend (or maybe ex-friend the woman didn't really even know where they stood anymore) really hadn't gone the right way in helping her out. Talking to Ari had helped it all click but even then she still wanted to deny it. Which had led to the experiment: try to go a week without drinking, which she quickly narrowed down to three days, which she then narrowed down to one day and even then Trixie failed.
Multiple times.
And that was finally what convinced her that there actually was a problem. Finally had convinced her to get help. And that led her to laying out on the bed while Savannah watched TV and clearly got the better end of this deal. For a moment, Trixie almost debated letting someone else know what was going on, have them come over and help, but again shot that down for the millionth time in her head. This was her problem, she was the one that had to deal with it. Nobody else had to know.
Nobody else needed to know.
Nobody else could accidentally reveal it if they had no idea what was going on. That thought hadn't even dawned on her until now, maybe just because the withdrawal symptoms weren't as bad as they had been the day before. But the idea that she couldn't trust anyone with this part of her life was nothing new, Trixie was used to it. And maybe that was another part of the problem, but it wasn't something that she really wanted to focus on now. Maybe she could bury that and not think about it, though Trixie had a feeling that wasn't the case either. Everything was starting to jumble up in her mind again as she finished her cup of Powerade and put it on her dresser as she curled back up on her bed again.
Lady was asleep on the other side of the bed as usual as Trixie sighed. She hated feeling alone. She hated feeling sick. She hated feeling like once again she was going to be a disappointment once people found out. She'd felt that way about her sexuality for so long, that even though it was out there, she knew how much of a disappointment it was to some people. Not to mention the fact that her abdicating had left a rift in the royal family as they tried to work everything out. And while they had the two weddings and a baby that were all happening soon, Trixie knew that was as much positive PR as they could shove out as they were working out everything behind the scenes. Figuring out a gameplan to make sure that she didn't ruin everything.
And that if this got out, it'd make things even worse. Which was the last thing that Trixie wanted to do.
Forcing the sleepy dog to cuddle her, Trixie wished again that she was just a normal person. That she didn't have to worry about all of this. That she didn't have to worry about how all of her problems would be perceived. That she didn't have to worry about how her actions would reflect on a family that didn't even truly accept her anymore. And with a yawn, she finally started to doze off. She knew that sleep wasn't going to law very long, but it at least would be a relief from how confusing her mind could be. Slowly as she dozed off, Trixie tried to tell herself that everything would eventually be okay.
And wondered if there would ever be a day that she actually believed those words.
Tagging: CMC Hare Thompson & Levi Price
Location: Suspenders bar & restaurant
Time Frame: Afternoon, Feb. 20, 2018
General Notes: Levi meets with an an old superior and friend who has unexpected news. Mentions of depression, death and a gun.
Levi sat down inside of a basement bar, Suspenders, getting the small talk out of the way with his former superior. Command Master Chief Hare Thompson contacted him just yesterday about meeting up after his on-campus class let out. It had been some time since they spoke, particularly after his discharge but the loose communication never made Levi lose respect for the man. Hare was just that sort of a person who exuded that sort of regard. Levi shared that he was married now and that he and his wife were expecting a baby at the end of March. He also touched on his enrollment in community college and glossed over how The Admiral was doing when asked. Hare, in turn, shared that he was training some new recruits out in Coronado, California, but he was in town for a few meetings.
Neither of them had taken very long ordering their food in between their minor chatter, and both of them were rather swift in consuming it - likely a conditioning, rather than coincidence. After the check was paid, the two men did take their time, drinking down what remained of their respective beverage refills. Levi couldn’t help feeling that there was something more that Hare wanted, besides treating him to lunch and small talk after all of these years. ‘What’, exactly, was making Levi a little anxious, forming in his mind with slight irritability. Underneath the table, he rubbed at his thigh, just above his knee with his free hand and opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but Hare seemed to pick up on his restlessness and spoke up first.
“Look, I don’t wanna drag this out anymore, Price. I can’t give you all the details seeing as you’re technically a civilian right now, but that could change. And soon.” The older of the two men continued sitting up straight as a board, dark eyes fixed seriously on Levi. Amidst the unimportant buzz occurring around them, his voice was low but very clear to Levi when he said, “I want you to re-enlist. Get you back in the SEALS and on the Team.”
Levi froze. Did he hear Command Master Chief Thompson correctly? He was wanted back. He i>could go back. This wasn’t one of his old dreams paying him a cruel visit again? His head was reeling but outwardly he bore his more typical, stoic expression, even as he started to ask, “But I thought I was ineligible after…?”
“That’s not what your discharge documents indicated, or don’t you have a copy of those? When I looked, it said you would need a waiver. Personally, I think waiving your return to service is long overdue but you’re not automatically ineligible, Price.”
Levi did have a copy of the papers, but they were stored away, along with just about everything else physical that he had from the military - his uniforms, paperwork, photos from overseas, old letters from his family and a couple friends, as well as a handgun he owned and had locked away. His dogtag from the Navy was the only thing he ever seemed to keep on him but it was always tucked away under whatever shirt he had on. He hadn’t said so out loud but Levi had never looked over his discharge papers in great detail before. Honorable a status as it was, and as uncharacteristic as it was for him not to look everything over, he had been too angered, depressed, and otherwise distracted to see a possibility in returning to the military, thus leading to a rather stagnant life for the next three-plus years. Now hearing that he could have actively worked towards a return to service years ago, he felt a bit foolish and could feel his face warming slightly from it. The physical reaction was easy enough to ignore, however, especially when Hare spoke on.
“You don’t have to give an answer right this second. We’re still putting the best plans in place for this assignment and you’ll have to pass a physical and psych exam. I see you’ve got a service dog there.”
Levi automatically glanced down at Winnie, who was lying at his feet in her boots and service vest, bored and unaware of the conversation taking place over her.
“Yeah--yes, sir. Doesn’t much look it, but she’s still a pup.”
”Did you ever have a service dog before?”
Levi shook his head, “No, sir.”
“I know what having a service dog usually means for vets. You having one for whatever your reason is your business right now. But we’d like to see Deadshot back on the team. I heard once upon a time that you wanted that too. The incident before might not have let you at the time, but times have changed. You look like you’re still taking care of yourself and if I had to bet, you’re still one helluva marksman. If coming back is what you still want, now’s your chance to prove it.”
Hearing his old nickname made a once dormant sensation pulse throughout Levi’s body. It compelled him to give his answer right then and there but the more prominent and rational side of him only gave his old superior a firm nod.
“Yes, sir. I’ll give it some thought ‘n let you know.”
“All right, Price. Just don’t take too long. We’re planning to deploy this summer, so take the exams to see if you’ve got the fitness and get back to me within a month. That should give you more than enough time to get back into the swing of things before the summer.”
Almost out of habit, when his superior stood, so did Levi. He even fell into a slightly less stiff attention stance, his hands forming loose fists at the seams of his jeans, but he snapped out of it when Hare extended a hand to shake before leaving Levi to his thoughts.It wasn’t long after, however, that Levi also left the restaurant, needing some assistance from the wintry air outside to further confirm that this was no dream. That he and Hare had spoke and he was now faced with a decision to make. His mind felt like a clock and with each second ticking by, it would cycle through a new thought of someone or something that further resisted his giving an answer to Hare right then and there. Alex and their daughter were often one, but sometimes two separate thoughts. He loved Alex, and even though she knew he had once been in the military, he never told her before about his wanting to go back. Confiding this or not, they were having a baby - a baby who was getting closer and closer to arriving with each passing day. If he re-enlisted, he would be gone for at least some time during the summer. What would that mean for their newborn, and for Alex?
His sisters and Mee-Maw were another ticking second.
His friends in and out of the military ticked in his mind. Friends who once served as he did, and friends who are still serving for the U.S. military now came to mind. Friends who were on his former SEAL Team who didn’t make it back home alive crossed his thoughts as well, but it was the ones still around who were more prevalent for the time being. Whether they knew of his military background and to what extent, or if they knew nothing at all, his re-enlisting was bound to bring up a variety of reactions and conversations and Levi didn’t yet know if he was prepared for all of them.
School was going well for him. Even if he didn’t have a clear path as to whether it would take him, it was something that he could take the time to discover. Wasn’t that good for him right now? Taking the time now, to discover and possibly re-discover his interests and what could give him a little more to make his life feel more worthwhile had become slowly but increasingly important to him. He would have to leave school alone after only four classes. Sure, the chance to go back yet again could be there in the future but his drive and interest might not be.
Post-service life, and the question he was currently trying to answer himself would still be waiting for him down the road. Whether he was to leave the military by choice or not, there was nothing to say that he wouldn’t end up right back where he currently was, trying to figure out something to do with his life, and wanting to still be a good provider to those whom he loved most. And he wasn’t arrogant or naive enough to ignore the possibility that he might not return at all this time. He had lost enough friends in the past to know better. Even without an official loss of life, there was also his father, who would never, ever be the same again for what remained of his own life.
And of course there was the matter of his physical and mental health. Even if Levi didn’t talk about it, he knew he was a broken man. But it wasn’t that incident 3+ years ago that made him broken--it only added to what was already there. Would it really disqualify him from doing what he had wanted? The thing he was sure of himself doing, and for himself? Was he forever going to let himself be defined by his capabilities going forward in his life, just because he wasn’t whole, whatever that meant? Was the depression not already in him prior to everything that took place the night he lost his leg?
Was it wrong of him to still be wanting this? To know the potential consequences, to weigh the “cons”, and consider the sacrifices, and yet, to still have exactly what he wanted for so long to be practically within his grasp now? Levi didn’t have these answers. In fact it just seemed like as he walked closer and closer to his and Alex’s home, that more questions and anticipated concerns from others were sprouting up in his mind like a patch of weeds. And still, the want was there, combating them like a weed whacker, no matter how much the very valid questions and concerns popped back up. Hare had given him roughly a month to take the exams and make up his mind, but Levi couldn’t see himself enduring all of this for that long.
Prior to reaching the apartment complex, Levi came to the bus stop roughly a block away. He stood with Winnie, waiting and when the bus arrived, he stepped on it and showed his pass for the fare. Finding a vacant seat, Levi stared at nothing in particular with his mind set on his destination. There was a U.S. Navy Recruiting Station in Midtown, and his military ID was secured inside his wallet. He would make the exam appointments today.
Setting: December 15th, 11:30 PM
Triggers: Anxiety
Title Song
Cut for Triggers and Length: 1005 words
Alex did not like the nagging feeling in the back of her head that maybe Dorothy was right. She felt like she had the flu, she had the same symptoms as the flu, and she hadn't had a chance to rest or get better so she wasn't over the flu. It made perfect sense that she wasn't pregnant.
So the fact that she had to take a test to prove it was not actually what was going on wasn't very reassuring.
Especially as she thought back to when this even would have happened, and while Veteran's Day seemed to have a huge neon sign blinking over it, that just meant that she definitely had been doing just about everything wrong and she didn't want to even think about that. Not that she necessarily knew that because she had purposefully looked at nothing about it because she wasn't ready to be pregnant yet, but she had a feeling. One that she'd somehow already messed up this hypothetical baby that probably didn't exist.
That she really hoped didn't exist.
She already had to go back to the studio to drop a couple of things off after the Nutcracker, and then just stopped by the store that was on the block just to grab one. Just to make sure that she was right and she was just sick. She already felt like her thought process was spiraling out of control, which only made her need for control greater. She didn't mean to read the boxes of every brand of pregnancy tests out there, but she wanted to make sure that she chose the one that was the most accurate. The one that was going to be most likely to give her the most accurate result that she really wasn't really sure that she wanted to know. But by the time that she was leaving the store and going to the studio she already felt like her lungs were on fire and that she couldn't breathe.
Walking up to her old apartment, it made her realize how much her life had changed since she first got her letter, and how much more it would change if Dorothy somehow was right. She'd sold some of her original furniture since she hadn't needed it since she had moved in with Levi, so it was strangely empty despite her turning it into a sort of half office, half costume room, with a good pair of 50 shoes there that she had never managed to get to the loft. For good reason because she could already sense the look that would be on Levi's face if he saw them. Especially with her asking for more for Christmas.
Alex's stomach turned over as she went and got a cup of water and read the instructions on the box for what felt like the millionth time. It was pretty straightforward, but as she chugged the glass of water, despite already having to go to the bathroom, she still thought through everything again. Sure, she had her doubts about the flu but she still wasn't sold on the pregnancy idea either, figuring that there might be a shot that maybe there really was another thing that it could be. Against her better judgement she decided to open up Web MD and check and see what horrible things came up, only for the only possible thing that it could think of it being was a tension headache and that clearly wasn't right either. Sighing at the fact that she really wasn't getting any other possibilities she opened the box and went into the bathroom and took the test, leaving it on sink afterwards to wait as she went back out, knowing that if she stayed in there that she'd just keep staring at it until it said something and that was going to feel like it was taking forever.
So instead she walked out and tried to find something to distract herself, which really didn't go well. Alex tried to think about if it would really be a bad thing if she actually was pregnant, though her mind kept saying yes that it was. Even if she had plenty of people tell her that she'd be great, or that since she worked with kids she had nothing to worry about, but that didn't mean that she was ready. She liked that the longest that she ever had to deal with anyone's kid was two hours at the most out of the week and then she could give them back. And she really liked coming home and not having to deal with them. And she was only 23 and she really didn't feel like she was old enough or had enough life experience to be a mom yet. And while the law really gave her a deadline on when she would have to be ready, it was still months away. And she wanted to be able to plan, and talk it out, and go into it all prepared instead of having it be a surprise. Some surprises were fun, like when Levi surprised her and took her to the Christmas lights, and others were terrifying. Like this would be if she actually was instead of the flu.
Her phone alarm went off and jolted her out of her thoughts as she slowly made her way back to the bathroom. She was hoping, praying, willing the universe to show her that she wasn't pregnant and maybe she had some sort of disease or sickness or a really bad case of the flu and that Dorothy wasn't on to something. Especially since in her gut she really thought that Dorothy might be right. And that idea was even more terrifying than having to go through all of this. Sighing as she went into the bathroom she picked it up and closed her eyes letting out a deep breath before she let herself look at the display to see the results, biting her lip as she read the one word:
Setting: The Johnson Estate; Nine years ago today, late evening.
Triggers: Mentions of police brutality
Cut for Length: 1140
Note: Mentions of @isaamghazani; A para taking place nine years ago today after Darius and Sam got arrested. If you didn’t read the para, Darius and Sam were accused of hurting a fellow student named Benjamin when it was in fact the fault of someone else in their biker gang. Sam and Darius were arrested, bail was posted by Sam’s mother and eventually their records were sealed as plea bargains in exchange for community service. They never got to clear their names.
He had spent the night at Riker’s along with Sam. The bail was posted late and Darius was cold. He imagined this moment plenty of times before in his head. The last 48 hours had felt longer in his mind and all he wanted was a warm bed. Sam got his, even asked Darius to come with him but he knew he had his own demons to face. The key turned in the door of the large home in Westbury and Darius was met at the door with one of the nannies. “Sima, thank you.” He whispered, removing his cap and handing her his sweater along with it.
“Your mothers did not meet you at the train station?” Why would she ask that? Of course they didn’t. Why would they.
“No. It’s okay. How’s Evie?” He looked up the winding stairs.
“Ms. Evelyn is fast asleep. She made you a ‘welcome home’ sign and I hung it up in your bedroom.”
“And where is mother?”
“Ms. Cynthia is stuck in the hospital.”
“And Sheri?”
“Your mother is in the den.”
Darius kissed Sima’s temple before making his way inside his home. He reeked of prison. Hated it. Hated the way he was handled by those cops and the fact that he couldn’t do anything but watch them do the same to Sam. He hated knowing Benjamin was in the hospital. Hated that Sam’s mom had to bail him out.
He stood in the doorway of Sheri’s den and knocked on the side.
“Come in.” She didn’t even bother to look up from her computer. “nice of you to show up.”
“Oh see…I would have been on time for dinner last night had someone posted bail.” He countered with a slight sneer his mom would make him pay for later.
“Darius, what in the hell were you thinking?”
“Sheri, do not start!” He held up his finger. “You left me there to rot and if Ami hadn’t posted bail, Sam and I would have been there longer.”
“It’s about time you and Sam and your delinquent friends got some sort of punishment.” She removed her glasses and looks up at her son. “How does it feel?”
“You’re paying Sam’s mom back. And you’ll pay for his bail too. We can afford it.”
“We? Oh no. No, no. there is no ‘we’ here. Cynthia and I can afford it. You can barely afford a bag of chips.” Sheri took a deep breath. If Cynthia were here, she’d finish this differently.
“Do you know they took my Ipod? My coat? I had to trek it to Westbury wearing nothing but the clothes I had on the day of the arrest.”
“Who told you to get arrested, Darius?” She asked her son genuinely. “You have everything you want here and you throw it away. You haven’t been home in weeks! But your mother is good to bail you out?!”
“Yes! Yes mother! That’s what mothers do! Along with other things that you seem to forget.”
“Oh Darius, you misguided child.”
“Don’t patronize me, mother!” Darius plopped down on the couch, his back now turned to Sheri. “You think I’m guilty.”
A pause. And to Darius it felt eternal.
“You do the crime, you do the time. We come from a long lineage of doctors and lawyers, Darius. We can’t have this kind of reputation just spewed around the office! I’m going to be chief for God sakes! Your mother wants to be associate Professor! You can go to Columbia for free! Does any of that mean anything to you or are you that selfish?”
He stared at the floor, his chest rising with every breath he took and as much as he tried to stop it, his tears fell and his eyes burned from the lack of sleep. “Do you know that if we go to trial and they don’t seal our records, we can go to prison for a long time?” He wiped his eyes. “Did you? Did you also know that those cops slammed my head against the hood of their car!? Huh!?” His voice escalated. “Did you know that I didn’t do anything to Benjamin!? Sam and I tried to stop it! You didn’t know because you were too busy being all high and mighty and throwing your own GODDAMN SON under a bus!”
“DARIUS!”
“NO!” He stood up and faced his mother. “I will NOT Stick around for this. You will drive me into the ground if you could. Don’t come to my trial. Don’t come to my aid. I don’t want your money. I don’t want anything from you.”
And with that he made his way out and towards the stairs, running up them and stopping when he saw Evelyn. “Hey! D! I made you a banner!”
“Oh…Evie…” He hadn’t seen her in weeks. Before the arrest, Darius was living with Sam after all. He crouched down, tears still in his eyes. “I’m gonna be away a bit longer now.”
“But Sima said…”
“I know…” He whispered. “I have to go. I have to take care of a lot of things. But look. I’m still going to take care of you, okay? I’m still going to be there for you. Call me. Everyday. Every single day, Evie. Okay? And we’ll talk about everything. I promise.”
“How will you do that if I disconnect your phone?” Sheri called from the bottom of the steps.
“I’ll get a job.” He answered before entering his room to grab more of his things. He noticed the banner and the sharp pain he felt in his chest was enough to make him cry even more. After gathering more clothes, he shouldered the strap of his gym bag and exited his room, Evie stood there sobbing.
“You can’t go, D! Mama and mother don’t help me like you do.”
“Evelyn…please go back to your room.” Sheri pleaded with her child but the eight year old wouldn’t budge, wrapping herself around her brother, hanging on as tight as she could.
“Take me with you, Darius. Please! I can work too. I can sell my drawings.”
Darius shook his head and looked down at Evelyn. “Evie…I promise I’ll come back. I promise. I have to go now.”
His little sister let go reluctantly and Darius made his way down the stairs, Sheri glaring at her son. “You walk out that door, Darius Rufus and you can forget about coming back.”
He stared at his mother for a good while almost as if he wanted to remember this moment and then walked past her, slamming the front door as he left his parent’s home. He’d figure out. He always did. And with that, he walked for miles to the nearest payphone and called the only person that could help him.
GENERAL NOTES: After the last events in Riley’s life, she gets to spend the week by herself, a great opportunity to think of what’s ahead.
COMMENTS: Riley’s feeling/thoughts are so hard to write because she won’t even share them with me, so this was fun. It wasn’t.
I
The fundraiser extends long past 3am, and it’s such a wide success for Riley that she can’t imagine being able to sleep any time soon due to all the emotions and the adrenaline of the night. She doesn’t see Daina for the rest of the event, even when she catches herself trying to find the woman in the sea of people. She’s never been more thankful to have great, competent assistants reminding her of her itinerary, because she seems to still be in a haze after that kiss. Pathetic, really, she chastises herself mentally. Daina’s probably soundly asleep by the time Riley finishes saying goodnight to all the guests, thanking them for their donations.
The silence in her bedroom is usually the most welcoming enviroment in her life, the one place she can just be herself, and not this persona she’s crafted so perfectly for her job. But silence this time means her mind is running wild with thoughts she would like to ignore at the moment. She shifts constantly in her sheets, questioning whether to go over Daina’s room and wake her up to discuss everything while emotions are still on the surface, or if she should let her rest considering her early trip in the morning. Her rational side, as usual, beats what her heart desires, but the punishment for it is not being able to sleep until 5am, plagued by unwanted thoughts and haunted by blue eyes.
II
What would Daina and her together would even look like? she ponders over her brunch on Saturday. Her wife was already gone by the time she woke up, and for once, she’s relieved by the fact that she has a moment to herself, just like old times. Her and Daina together would mean nothing but banter, and bad times, she’s sure of it. Now that she’s had a moment to go over everything that occurred between the two, she’s not sure physical attraction is enough to sustain a marriage. That’s all there is at the moment, right? She is mistaking the thrill of the tension between them for something with more depth. She’s more and more certain that, when the time comes for the talk, she’ll be able to stand her ground and decide they’re better off in this awkward semi-friendship state they’re in, instead of risking it all at the chance of a real relationship.
By the time she goes to bed, however, her position has shifted in 180 degrees. Objectively, she’s clearly grown fond of Daina, even if she despises how cliche and predictable the whole situation is. She’s not looking forward to the endless waves of ‘I told you so’ she’ll receive if she chooses to take the opportunity with Daina. She feels her frustration weigh in her throat, a heavy lump, as she usually does when she’s faced with strong emotions and situations she can’t control. When her eyes finally flutter close, all she’s sure of is that she’s been proven once again, that her decision of staying out of serious relationship her whole life was right all along. Everything else is up in the air, including, whether or not she’s ready to venture into something more with the woman she’s married to.
III
On Sunday, she takes Bailey out for what she initially believed to be a quick walk around the block, but turned into an unexpected morning jog. She had never realized just how much energy was contained inside that beast until she was the one being pulled by the leash, ending up miles away from her home. They make it to a small park eventually, and she lets her free to play with the rest of the dogs, keeping the promise she had made Daina to give her some recreational time. As the woman passes through her mind again, she debates whether to call her, or message her, anything after two days of radio silence. What would she even say? she fights back, because she wouldn’t be able to pretend like nothing’s changed between. A nonchalant message would feel anticlimatic when they are due for a long conversation when she’s back. It’s all too much pressure, and Riley’s had trouble relaxing any time she’s reminded of it. She’s thankful for Leila’s husband, Sam, and his timely interruption, joining before she can act on her impulse. They chat for a while then, and it’s nice enough to vanish any thoughts of the blonde from her mind.
IV
The week is easier to survive, as she buries herself in her work, feeling much like herself again, in power, her mind sharp making the most pertinent decisions regarding business, with that critical thinking she can’t seem to translate into her personal life.
V
Her and Daina just make sense, it’s the thought on Tuesday, and it’s either thought number 7 or 20 regarding this whole situation. She’s sort of losing track already. They’re both intelligent, hardworking, goal oriented, beautiful women. They would be a power couple, in all aspects. She’s attracted to her, without a doubt, and if she were to try and open up just slightly, there’s a chance that things could be good for them. Great even. After all, she’s a risk taker at work, why would her personal life be any different? She can feel the excitement bubbling up, convincing her she should go for it. That all sounds ideal, except when she’s reminded that she’ll have this woman prying into her deepest secrets and feelings, seeing her at her most vulnerable, and suddenly she remembers why she’s so against it in the first place, her heart tightening at the thought, arms moving closer to her chest in a subconscious attempt to protect herself. It’s not as if she hasn’t dated for long periods of time in the past, she’s not incompetent. She managed to last a good amount of time with her previous girlfriend, but even then, they were both in agreement that their relationship was temporary and completely focused on having fun for the time being, with no promises of a future together. On the other hand, there’s obviously a big, obnoxious, neon sign with the words “forever” attached to her and Daina. It makes all the difference.
VI
She walks past her music room on the way to the library on Wednesday, when she stops in her tracks, suddenly noticing the piano in the corner, the same piano Daina is so drawn to. It gives her an idea, and before she can talk herself out of it, she makes the right calls to ensure her plan is set in motion. She’s not confident Daina would even approve of her spending so much money on a surprise for her, their money issues seem still unsolved, like everything about them. But she can’t think of a better peace offering, that much she’s certain of. She wants that, more than anything. Whether they end up falling in love with eachother or not, they need peace for the challenges to come.
VII
It’s late on Thrusday, and she’s feeling uneasy, struggling to get some sleep again, when she pulls up her phone, helpless to get any rest. She goes over her extensive contact list, filled with business related people, until she finds the name she’s looking for. She feels her heart pound faster, not only because her mind wanders off briefly to San Francisco, but because she’s embarrassed by the mispelled name she hasn’t changed since that horrible first encounter. That’s how terrible she's been acting because of a stupid unfair law. She couldn’t take back all those unpleasant moments, even if she wanted to, but she knew the future could look different if she tried just a little harder to not be a complete bitch. Finally, she changes her wife’s contact from “Diana” to “Daina”, a small gesture, and she feels completely ridiculous for doing it --though she’s more embarrased for keeping it for so long out of spite-- but she thinks it’s a start. She’s not sure what stops her from texting her about it, but when she wakes up in the morning she’s particularly happy for her restraint.
VIII
Saturday is filled with a sense of dread, she’s been counting the days until Daina comes home as if she was counting down to her death. She busies herself with Bailey again, who’s obviously missing her mom and is acting especially clingy with her substitute mother. She takes her to the scheduled vet appointment she promised Daina she would go to, before they kissed senseless in the middle of her kitchen, of course. She knows, thanks to one of her maids, that Daina’s been facetiming her dog, so at least it’s a reassurance that the blonde is very much alive and coming home to have this talk sooner rather than later. The dog behaves like a saint with the vet for her check up, thankfully, and she feels weirdly proud of a pet than isn’t even hers to begin with. Riley on the other hand, paces uncomfortably at the sight of needles for the duration of the appointment. As they drive back home, the idea of potentially spending time with both Daina and Bailey in the future passes through her mind. Perhaps hiking would be an activity everybody would enjoy. Her hand rests atop Bailey’s back, drawing lazy patterns as she’s catches herself smiling at the thought. It doesn’t so too bad, after all.
IX
The news of her firm establishing a business deal overseas comes on Sunday, and it makes for the perfect night of celebration. She hasn’t been able to stop reminding herself of the impending conversation she’s going to have with Daina in a few hours, when she’s back from San Francisco, and she’s not going to say no to an opportunity to clear her mind and ease her anxiety. The Marquee Nightclub is one of her favorite places and the perfect venue to do so. It’s past 2am, and the party is in full swing when she’s alerted by a friend that her phone is vibrating in her bag. Her annoyance grows, fumbling inside her purse to find the phone, wondering who could possibly be calling so late at night.
She stares at the screen while her phone vibrates in her hand, freezing as the name of her wife --rightfully spelled this time-- lights up in front of her. Thinking of their time difference, she wonders briefly if it would be smart to answer a call someone’s making so close to midnight. Bad things happen in night calls, people can get embarrassingly clingy and sad when it’s their bed time. She wasn’t ready to deal with that side of Daina, especially when she’s had a few drinks and she’s less likely to remain in control. Her thumb ghosts over the button for a couple of seconds, and against her better judgement, she slids her finger to accept the call, excusing herself from her group of friends, to find a better place to talk. Bringing her phone to her ear, she can hear a similar enviroment coming from the blonde’s end, and she furrows her eyebrows in confusion before speaking. “It’s late” she states bluntly, making her way to the bathroom. The distress she can hear coming from Daina’s voice make her stomach twist in the most uncomfortable way, and she’s completely bothered by the fact that she’s let this woman affect her in such way already. “Are you okay?”
The man at the gas station stared at Charlie, a soft, friendly smile gracing his features as she pumped her gas into her car.
“That’s a nice car. 1990 Ford Mustang, ey? That ain’t no city car. You’re from up here, huh?” He pressed on, trying to get her attention but Charlie, while friendly, was too scared about talking to a strange in empty gas station on an empty highway. Nothing but the man behind the register who activated her machine and hasn’t looked up since.
“It was my father’s.” She whispered and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve kept it in good condition, changed the engine a few times, the anti-freeze, you name it.”
“A girl that knows about cars? After my own heart here.”
She cleared her throat. Her father had taught her plenty when she was younger and Mack taught her more. He knew the importance of her keeping the car even though buying something completely new would be better for her pocket. “I had a little help.”
“Well, you’ve done a nice job. Your father is proud I’m sure.” He pointed to the car with his cane and let out a laugh only for his cough to intervene. He held a bottle close to him and Charlie finally turned to face him, a frown replacing her previous expression.
“My father passed away.”
“Oh. I’m sorry, girl.”
“Charlie”
“Pardon?”
“The name is Charlie.”
“Charlie. Pretty. Like yourself.” He raised his cane again and almost fell over so Charlie reached out to pick him up and sit him down.
“Are you alright? Are you cold? I know a shelter a few miles from here in Syracuse. I can get a cab to take you.” She whispered, crouching down. Maybe this was a gamble. She could hear her friends chastising her now but she couldn’t help.
“Eh, I’m fine, Charlie.” The smell of Bourbon felled the wintery air and Charlie sighed.
“A shelter will help you. Let me help you?” She wouldn’t give him money. That would only make things worse.
“You gon’ up to Syracuse to visit a boyfriend or something? Let me guess, long distance relationship?”
And suddenly he reminded her of Trixie. Dodging the subject, changing it even though there was something clearly wrong so Charlie moved to sit beside the man on the bench. “Yes as a matter of fact.”
“Oh! I love romance!” He replied giddily and left the bottle to the side and it made Charlie feel good that for that one moment, he wasn’t paying attention to the alcohol. “Is he as good looking as you.”
Charlie smiled and nodded. “Very much so. He’s not as funny though. I have the good humor.”
“Typical. Men, right?” He scoffed and patted the back of the bench. “You’re not going to break up with him are you? You’ve got sad eyes.”
She shook her head. “No. But it feels like it. We break up almost every week.” She laughed.
“Fire. Fire is important. He probably doesn’t see how great you are. I saw break up with him and run away with another! I’m single you know.” He winked and they both laughed, Charlie stuffed her hands into her coat.
“I’m sure he’ll break up with me anyway. Sorry my romance isn’t what you expected.”
“What’s he do? Your boy?”
She wanted to continue the story, wanted to make it feel real for the old man’s sake and all she could come up with was “He’s a teacher.”
“Typical.” He snorted again and Charlie laughed.
“What’s your name?”
“Elliot.”
She pulled her phone out and turned to face Elliot. “Please take my advice. I’ll call the cab now. It’s too cold out here.”
Elliot nodded and Charlie dialed the number. She sat back on the bench once more. “I’ll wait with you.”
“But your boyfriend will be waiting.”
“It’s alright. He’ll be okay.” She whispered. “How long have you lived upstate?”
“All my life. Got fired from my last job and went down this downward spiral. Next thing I know here I am years later talking to a pretty girl at an empty gas station. Could be worse.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Whatcha sorry for? You didn’t do anything! You certainly didn’t buy me this bottle here!” He frowned and looked over to the Bourbon sitting beside him. “It’s happy hour somewhere.” He murmured.
Charlie looked at the time on her phone. She had been driving for hours. It was almost 2 a.m. “I hope you get to sleep at the shelter. And attend a meeting while you’re there.”
“Like AA?”
“Like AA.”
“Well, I’ll be damned. You some angel or something?”
“I just think it would help. Please try, Elliot.” She stood up when the cab pulled in and Charlie instructed the driver where to take him, gave him the money and took the bottle from the floor.
Elliot stood up and opened the door. He never thought he’d find someone so kind at a service stop. “That boyfriend of yours...what an idiot.” He laughed and Charlie smiled.
“He can be. But we’ll be okay.”
“What’s his name?”
At Elliot’s question, Charlie’s eyes turned wide and she went through her list of guy friends or people she could just make up. Harrison was a good name of Richard or Steve. Mack would make sense or Mason or Marcus. “Benjamin.” She laughed and walked towards her own car.
“Tell Benjamin he’s an idiot!”
“I will.” She climbed her car and drove the next hour trying to keep herself awake by screaming the entire Spice Girl’s greatest hits playlist on Spotify. When she finally stopped at St. John’s Cemetery, she looked over to her passenger seat, the unopened government letter sitting there. She thought she had no reason to open up. She already knew who’s name she’d find. Charlie sighed and turned it over before getting out of the car and walking to her parent’s grave.
“Hey mom. Hey dad.” She crouched down, fingertips grazing the headstone. “I miss you.” Charlie then sat down beside the site and leaned against the gravestone. “I got my letter. I’m not sure how you two would feel about this whole thing. Mason got married. To such a great girl. My God. You would love her. You would love Mason…” She bit her bottom lip realizing just how frequent these visits happened. It almost felt like they were still here. Still around. “And it turns out that Marcus looks really good with red hair.” She fiddled with the buttons on her pea coat. “Mack is married too. Crazy, right? To a girl named Audrey. She’s...really great and I hope he sees that soon but he’s so stubborn sometimes. You know?” She laughed softly and brought her knees to her chest. “Trixie is...she’s losing her light.” She frowned. “It’s like a dimming little light and I don’t know how to help. It’s all I think about. Seeing her the way I did last week was awful. I can’t lose her, you know? You guys get that, right?” Charlie paused. “It’s almost four a.m. and I came all the way out here to see you guys. Work is great. I signed on a very important contract and I’m thinking about going back to school for my PhD. Maybe not until next year because now I’ve got this letter to worry about.” She sighed and stood up, opened up the passenger seat and retrieved the letter. She opened it carefully and read the content. “You have been matched with Benjamin Roy.” Charlie placed the letter beside her. “Ben’s Liv’s brother. I umm...well, I’ve told you guys about him too so yeah. Surprise!” She chuckled and shook her head. “He’s good though. He’s helping me with Trixie and he’s a good soul. He’s got that light about him. The kind that flickers in a dark attic. He just doesn’t see it.” She yawned and closed her eyes a bit, stuffing her hands into her coat. “You know...I’m pretty glad this is a 24 hour site.”
She pulled out a ziplock bag of cookies and when she did a few things fell out. A receipt from the state fair from 2015, ticket stubs to a movie she caught with Mason once and a crumbled up Star Wars temporary tattoo she had gotten Ben. “You guys have missed a lot.” She frowned and let her tears fall, leaning against the stone once more, waiting for the sun to rise.
Setting: Trixie’s Official Press Conference, January 18th, 4 PM
Triggers: N/A
Title Song
Cut for Length (1533 words)
Despite the fact that she had always loved being the center of attention, Trixie had always hated giving speeches. There was too much that she could mess up, and she had messed up before. And as she was minutes away from the most important one of her life, she could feel the pressure weighing on her. Despite the fact that she would finally be out, finally be free, after all of this: there were still so many nuances, so many different things that she could easily mess up and end up making things worse for her instead of better.
Or worse for her family.
Or worse for the country.
Letting out a long breath, she watched as the different aides buzzed around, trying to get ready for everything that was about to happen, writing down different things, and she noticed one wasn't doing anything but watching her - which Trixie was sure that woman was only there to make sure that she didn't bolt off. She felt her chest tightening, a feeling that she hadn't had in years, and only made worse by her dress. She hated her outfit, it felt too formal and too serious. Exactly what people wanted to see from a royal, and hopefully something that would keep her off of the fashion disaster pages for at least the next twenty-four hours and leave people something else to talk about.
Trixie wanted to look over her notes one last time, or even postpone the entire thing so that she had more time to make sure that this all was perfect. And yet before she had a chance to even think about suggesting it, she was announced and ushered into the room to where the podium was set up. And just like that, everything that she had tried to forget rushed back to her. Her posture, the smile, the being able to avoid all of the lights that were flashing at her. Trixie had once again slipped into the skin of Beatrice Victoria Elizabeth Windsor, and that was enough to give her the confidence to get through the next few minutes.
"Good afternoon," Trixie started, looking out at all the reporters, reaching up to adjust her glasses before remembering that she wasn't wearing them. Mistake number one. "Thank you all for coming, I ask that you save any inquiries until the end," she continued before glancing down at her notecards, "I also would like to thank anyone who has spent the past four years concerned about my wellbeing. I did see many of the headlines and I can assure you that I never joined a convent, was assassinated and had it covered up, or was abducted by aliens." She paused slightly to see if there would be any chuckles, but quickly moved on when it didn't seem like that would be the case.
"Instead," Trixie smiled out, trying to remember what was coming next without looking down at her cards, but failing as she glanced down at them, blinking a couple times as she still was trying to get used to the feeling of contacts all over again, "I had come to the realization that I was not suited for the position that I was born into, not to mention felt as if I was out of touch with the very people who were one day expecting me to be both leader and figurehead. And so, instead of putting my duty in front of myself, I ran away."
Out of the corner of her eye, Trixie could see that some of the aids were starting to look nervous, not to mention that some were looking over what her speech was supposed to be. After all, she was in enough trouble as it was, the least that she could do was let people know her own words, and she was confident that Angel had helped enough that she wouldn't end up starting an international incident. And even if she did, it should at least be easier for people to smooth over considering that she was no longer in the line of succession. "And in doing so, I learned more about people than I ever expected. I learned what it was like to go without money, living at the mercy of friends for a year and a half. I learned what it was like to have a job and to earn my own wage instead of having it given it to me because of my blood. I found love and I found heartbreak. And most of all, I found myself."
"I found myself as for the first time I could be with woman romantically and in public, because I didn't have to worry about the outcry that would come if I were outed," she continued, keeping her hands on the podium as she clenched her fists so hard that her nails dug into her palms, "I found myself as I got a job as a personal shopper at the Barneys Department store, helping people find the looks that they wanted in order to show who they truly were. I found myself as I could walk through a crowded room and not be noticed. I found myself as I danced the night away in a club that couldn't care less if I was a commoner or if I was royalty. And the more that I discovered who I was, the more that I realized that this day would eventually come where I would disappoint a nation and tell them that I was not fit to be their sovereign."
Trixie let the silence sit for a moment, taking a breath as she prepared for everything that was about to come next. The reporters were all leaning forward in their seats, wanting to know exactly what she was going to say next. Straightening her back and holding her head up, she started again, reminding herself that it was almost over and after this, she could drink and an entire bottle of wine if she wanted to. "There multiple ways that I have made myself ineligible to Queen. From a religious standpoint, the Chruch, while it does allow for civil partnerships, would not recognize my marriage and it would not be fair to try and be the head while flaunting what it says aside. On top of it, my grandmother, the Queen, was not aware of my wedding until after it had taken place, making me ineligible upon the fact that she and Parliment did not have the opportunity to approve my wife."
"As a result of this, I no longer am going to be the Princess of Wales, that title is going to pass to my uncle Prince Charles. Instead, I will be taking the title of Duchess of Windsor, in the vein of King Edward VIII. And as a sign of goodwill and promise that I had voluntarily given up my position and was not forced out of it due to my sexuality, my wife will hereby be known as Her Royal Highness Lady Olivia of Windsor. While she does hold the title of Dutchess, for the sake of causing less confusion within the press, the government felt and I agreed that was the best option. We will continue to live our lives in New York City, where we both have occupations and a life. We both will also have an active life in volunteering with those in less fortunate situations than ours, primarily those who are the victims of domestic violence, and working with the LBGTQ community of which we are both a part of. I thank you all for the support that you have given me over the course of my entire life, and I ask that you give that same support to the next chapter in the royal family. Thank you, and have a nice day," she concluded, gathering up her notes and walking off the stage, with an aide rushing towards the microphone to announce that there would be no further questions.
As soon as Trixie was out of sight from the reporters, she almost immediately started shaking feeling her stomach turning over as if even though there was a weight that was off her shoulders that she had never been without before, she also wasn't sure if she had made the right decision. She was second guessing every word that she said, every motion that she made, every possible thing that she could have done she was convinced that she had done wrong. And as soon as she found a trash can she proceeded to throw up everything that she had eaten that day into it. Trixie didn't want to see the headlines, she didn't want to see people's reactions, she didn't want to feel like she had single-handedly brought down the monarchy. She just wanted to drink herself to sleep and not wake up for a year. She wanted to go home and not have to worry about any of this ever again. She didn't want her life to change.
But that wasn't an option now. She was back in the public eye. But this time, at least she was going to be able to do it her way.
