Style // 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙇𝙚𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙘

26.

Thursday

"I seriously cannot believe you're actually going to fucking Japan for him!"

The scolding from Stella has lasted all day long. Screeching like a banshee, throwing a tantrum like a child, it's been never ending. The voice from the she-devil booms around the apartment as I scamper around, packing my suitcase for the weekend ahead. The fist-shaped pump inside my chest runs into overdrive, but my mouth stays sealed shut rather than arguing back. Besides, what's the point in arguing back when I'm in the wrong?

"You're mugging yourself off Emma Morgan!" Stella fumes, storming into the room I'm in and blocking the doorway. "Not only are you mugging yourself off, you're mugging me off, and you're mugging Elliot off!"

The urge to yank my hair out bubbles in my fingertips, my voice box cracking under the pressure of holding my tongue back. Stella's usual small frame looks ten feet tall as she lurks in the corner, like a sleep paralysis demon. Her eyes are infernos, the black smoke bellowing out her ears. Her hair is almost standing on end, and it wouldn't shock me if claws spring out from under her nails soon.

"Do you even want me to help, or do you just tell me for attention?" Stella asks rhetorically, her head tilting. "I mean, are you doing this to prove a point?"

"Stella-!" I burst, swiftly catching myself up before my mouth runs. "Stella, please, drop it."

"Drop what, drop the argument as quick as Charles drops you?" She digs, prowling further into the room.

"Stella, walking onto the paddock is what I've dreamed of doing!" I ignore her comment. "I told you I'm going to Japan the second I found out, what are you mad about?"

"I'm mad that you keep sulking back to me and expecting me to feel sorry for you!" Stella hisses, pointing a finger at me. "All I've ever done is feel sorry for you, not once have you felt sorry for me!"

"Because your love life was purposely non-existent!" I finally yell back, dropping everything in my hands. "You chose not to meet any guys until you met Mark, why would I feel sorry for you when that was exactly what you wanted?"

Stella scoffs, waving a hand at me. "Forget it, fuck off to Japan for all I care."

Arguing is the worst. Guilt is my least favourite emotion, and refusing to apologise is my biggest weakness. It would be nice for Stella to understand all of this from my perspective. For her to realise that walking into the paddock is all I've ever wanted. Is it too much for her to ignore the rest of the problem?

I want to throw all my clothes out the suitcase, and scream as they fly through the air. Inner me wants to act like a child throwing a temper tantrum, lobbing all their toys out of their pram. Instead, I force them in. The suitcase groans as I shove everything in with no structure, method or plan. All the dazzling outfits have no effect on me when I know the person I'm closest to will despise seeing me in them. Not because we've fallen out, but because I'm wearing them whilst stood next to the man that's wasted an awful lot of my time over the years.

My phone pings on the bed. Speaking of the devil.

Charles
Let me know when you're ready
I'll come get you

Me
I'm ready
Just saying goodbye to Stella

I refuse to leave Stella on her own in a foul mood. I never leave the house on bad words, you don't know if you'll see that person again. I know, it's very superstitious, but it's happened to people! I wheel my suitcase to the front door; my ribs feel like they're squeezing and puncturing my lungs as I pass Stella's closed door. She's already blocking me out.

I pop the suitcase in place, then knock on Stella's door. "Stell."

"What." She snaps.

"I'm sorry, I know I'm being stupid, but I don't want to fall out with you before I go." I plead, staring at the door.

"Too late now." Her response is short and- quite frankly- not sweet.

"Please, I'm so sorry." I try again, shifting on my feet. "I'm so sorry I've treated you like shit, and I'm embarrassing myself, but I hate falling out with you."

There's a pause from her room, followed with a perfectly executed huff. "Yeah."

"Well, I'm going now, can you come out?"

Again, silence. "Have a good time, I'll see you when you get back."

That comment shattered me. Like another form of heartbreak that stings in different ways. I gulp down the guilt as I wriggle my keys into the door, creating a false image in my head where Stella bear-hugs me and wishes me good luck for the flight as I leave. A beep outside persuades me to get a move on, to lock the door behind me and drag my suitcase downstairs on my own.

Waiting outside is a larger car, more like a private SUV with black out windows and flashy LED headlights that light up the entire country. A chauffeur dressed in black shivers as he waits for me, forcing a chattery smile as he takes my suitcase. I open the back doors of the SUV myself, earning an inaudible mutter from him.

"What took you so long?" Charles asks, sitting up from his slouched position.

"I fell out with Stella." I say, blunt and brutal as always. "She's pissed that I'm coming to Japan with you."

"Typical." Charles grins, glancing at his phone briefly. "She's always trying to get in the way of us, why are you still friends with her?"

"We've been friends for years?"

"Mhmm, and she's controlled your love life the entire time." Charles says, raising an eyebrow. "We wouldn't be having so many problems if she'd leave us be."

Inhale, exhale. Deep breaths, a weekend away to Japan will barely affect your life, Emma. The time away from Stella might be what we need; I'll come back, apologise, and life will go back to normal. This could be a new leaf turned, Charles might be taking us seriously if he's taking me to Japan with him.

"How long is the flight?" I fill the silence as the chauffeur starts to drive.

"About 13 hours?" Charles looks to me as he replies, chuckling as my face drops. "It's not that bad."

"That's such a long flight!" I argue, like my life is flashing before my eyes.

"We'll be on a private jet, you won't even realise it." Charles shakes his head. "You'll enjoy it Miss Morgan."

A private plane to Japan, a whole trip that I don't have to pay for at all. I'm sure I will enjoy it!