True North

Chapter two

There's booze, sex and every kind of drug on offer. I'd stumbled into a bedroom, searching for my fiancé, finding only two models making out while a TV host jerked off watching them, his nose decorated in white.

Now, I'm standing on the balcony with my producer, the man lauding my praises loudly to the crowd. My two Aria statues are heavy in my arm, like twin weights, drawing my attention endlessly to the fact Darren's band was completely overlooked at the awards.

"...And now, with the fact she's cracked the US charts and been nominated for three Grammy's, Delia Chess is the hottest name in Aussie music! So, cheers to Duchess tonight on all her success, and so much more to come!" The sweaty round man toasts my flute with his scotch glass, the brassy liquid sloshing out onto my leather mini-dress.

Shyly, I raise my glass to the cheering swarm in front of me. Even with the extra seven inches my towering spiked stilettos give me, I still feel tiny and unworthy of all the attention.

But as people crowd forward, gushing adoration and appreciation, the tinniest bloom of hope unfurls in my chest. These people are my family. I'm finally loved. I'm finally home.

I allow myself a small smile, and people around me gasp at the rare event.

It all ends when a slurring voice shouts at me across the room.

"All hail the fuckin' almighty Duchess!" Darren is staring at me with blatant hatred. I don't understand; he's my fiancé. We are going to be married and Marie Claire is shooting the wedding and people are begging me to wear their gowns, use their hotels, and honeymoon at their resorts. Why is he looking at me like I've killed his dreams?

Because I have. I won and he didn't. I knew he'd be livid, but I thought he'd take it out on me behind the closed doors of our apartment. Not here.

"Hey, baby," I say, as he crosses to me. The room has fallen silent, except for clicking cameras and the bleep of phones recording.

Darren is oblivious. His pupils are wide, turning his eyes black with crazy hatred. "Don't 'baby' me, whore. You wanna take what's mine? I'll give you what's mine, right now."

***

Gasping, I woke, coated in sweat, drool drying on my chin.

"Emily? Are you okay?" North's head appeared around the side of my open door.

Disoriented, I wiped at the tears and saliva on my face. "Fine. Just... just a bad dream."

"I heard you cry out." His silvery eyes were tilted in concern. "Do you want some water or anything?"

"No. Thank you. I must have just been hot. My fault for taking a nap with the blinds open." Feebly, I indicated the blazing late afternoon sun, falling right over my bed.

He wasn't buying it, but smiled anyway, his slender face crinkling under the voluminous beard. "Okay, well, Mrs W said to tell you that dinner is ready to serve."

"I'll be right there." I jumped up and pushed past him, ignoring the look of worry he bore. Don't worry about me, Fancy-pants. I'm not the one without memories.

I'm the girl who can't escape from hers.

In the kitchen, I scraped my hair back into a quick ponytail, and loaded up with plates. Heading into the dining room, I set my face into a neutral expression, tilting my chin down so I didn't draw extra attention.

The long table was covered with candles and wine. Mrs Waters sat at the head, her long grey hair flowing down her shoulders like a silver wave, as she blatantly disregarded the societal norm of old ladies and short hair. She held court over her guests as they drank and chatted.

"Ah! My darling Emily!" Mrs Waters nudged the photographer on her right. "Didn't I tell you, Michael? She's quite stunning, isn't she?"

The poor man stammered. "Oh... y-yes, she's lovely."

Aware that the older woman was on a new quest to set me up, I worked as fast as I could to off-load the food around the table. She did it about every three months or so, mostly inspired by any unfortunate single person to stop by our abode. She'd even made an attempt to push a sweet Queensland lesbian on me, until mortified, I'd informed them both of my heterosexuality.

Mrs Waters continued, drawling, "She's clever and kind and hardworking as well. You'd think that some young man would just sweep in and scoop her up!"

North entered the room, bellowing with laughter while taking a seat next to the hostess. "Emily's not a fish in a pet store tank, Mrs W! Now, what were you telling me about the big gum tree at the back of the property?"

"Oh! That's right, Michael, you simply must take a photo of it. The tree was burnt to a crisp in the fires, but there's a second tree sprouting from the hollow trunk of the first..."

She was off. As I set a final dish in front of North, I gave him a grateful look, trying to convey so much with a quick flicker of my lids.

Grinning, he winked at me before turning to engage the older couple on his right in conversation.

Silently slipping from the room, I paused at the door, glancing back to admire North's easy manner and sunny attitude. He might not have had any idea who he was or where he came from, but he was living in the moment, at peace and totally engaged with those around him.

I stared at his strong chin, the one part of his body not ravaged by his ordeal, and wondered what it would be like to stroke the coarse beard. When he looked up and saw me watching, I fled, blushing and unsure why.

In the kitchen, I ate my small plate at the wooden table alone, listening to everyone converse and laugh, listening for North's guffaw, wondering how the addition of someone so vibrant and welcoming could cause me to feel even lonelier. 

Vote if you've ever felt lonely in the company of others.  I know I have...