Two words. Three vowels. Four consonants. Seven letters. It can either cut you open to the core and leave you in ungodly pain, or it can free your soul and lift a tremendous weight off your shoulders: It's over. But if you have the courage to say go...
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"I saw her."
"Saw who?" Roger questioned, raising his eyebrow as he settled in Freddie's room. They weren't due for their practice for another hour.
"Estella," Freddie responded. The cigarette that was firmly lodged between Roger's lips was now in his fingers, tapping against the ashtray.
"Oh, so that bird from years ago? The model?"
"Yeah. That's the one." Freddie had occasionally mentioned her here and there. He didn't get an opportunity to get to know her as much as he wanted to all those years ago, but her persona did remain buried in his mind.
Estella was still just as breathtaking as he remembered her. Today when he saw her, she wore a long black dress that clung to her body in all the right spots. Always polished, always perfectly accessorized. She was timeless–practically showing no signs of aging whatsoever. She was just one of those women that made you...stare.
Men wanted to be with her. Women wanted to be her.
Estella Sorino had it all.
He remembered her wit and her laughter; he remembered the look that she'd give him. He even remembered the phonecall that he practically hung up on her. It was wrong, so wrong back then, but he couldn't help the desire that burned deep inside him.
He wanted her then.
He wanted her now.
It was as simple as that. Maybe this time they could get things right... Maybe this time, he could act upon his feelings without the feeling of guilt that would pang through him when he'd look at Mary.
Mary and him, they were done years ago. Granted, they were still trapped in a weird on-and-off circle that they didn't seem to be able to snap out of, but Freddie wondered if maybe, just maybe, it was time to end it all.
"Still just as pretty?" Roger clearly remembered her from back in the day, but that didn't surprise Freddie. A face like hers was hard to forget. He nodded his head.
"Still just as pretty," he confirmed.
"So... what are you going to do about it?" Roger asked him, the cigarette returning back to its rightful place in his mouth as he sucked back on it. "Are you going to..."
His words trailed off, but the look in his eyes was saying enough. He was asking him whether he'd fuck her.
Truth to be told, Freddie thought about it more times than he wanted to admit. He wondered what she'd feel like wrapped around his cock–the way she'd throb and drench him... Squirming and begging underneath him. He wondered about the sounds she made... The way her face would scrunch in sheer pleasure.
Still, he shook his head. "No, we're just having dinner together. To catch up and all."
"Sure," Roger scoffed slightly, imitating quotation marks with his fingers. "Dinner... 'Cause that's what you do with women..."
"I mean it. We haven't seen each other in years. I just want to know what she's been up to and all..." he repeated his words, but he was uncertain that he was meaning them.
Women like Estella, they were the kind of women you'd met once in a lifetime if you were lucky. He was foolish enough to let her go once.
This time, Freddie wasn't sure if he was going to be able to do it again.
