My fingertips rub around the material of my underwear creating a tingling sensation to my core. The slight rub of the fabric above my clit always felt too good to me. Almost better than my fingers. Except if it was Jackson's.
Or hers.
The image of her face appears in front of me, making me stop my movements abruptly. Why do I think about her so much lately?
It's been three years. I should have moved on already.
I mean I have.
It's just something about my sexuality that always leads to her. Probably because all the sexual experiences I had before Jackson were bound to her. She was the one who made me explore my body and my senses, find what feels good to me.
I owe her a big part of myself. Mostly, because I didn't know who I was before I met her.
I used to fly towards every direction. Overloading my day with different people, activities and work, things I thought made me happy, only to realise it was just a way to forget how truly miserable I was. And she not only helped me to change that, but also showed me the way to discover my true self. Physically and emotionally. I was such a different person around her.
No surprise I went downhill after she left.
My hand is itching to continue the journey under my underwear, but I don't obey. I'm pretty sure I won't be able to resist the thought of her touching me and even though Jackson said it was okay to think about anything during this time, I don't want to.
It's either him or nothing at all.
Sighing in defeat, I get up ready to start my day. My feet dig into the soft fabric of the carpet, guiding me towards the closet. It's Monday.
Who created Mondays really? I need to press charges.
I spent about five minutes yawning and rubbing my eyes in front of it, before I manage to drag my favorite pair of boyfriend jeans and a simple white cropped t-shirt. Trying to close the doors unsuccessfully, I huff anoyed pushing on my jackets to the back so I can get it over with.
Honestly, I need to look through my stuff and clean it out before the White Witch emerges through my closet.
I don't ususally go shopping, but I'm one of these emotional hoarders that keeps everything because it's just too hard to let go of them. It feels like every piece has a memory, even if I don't wear it anymore.
Which makes my mom even more crazy, because she tries to get me new clothes every now and then but I resist telling her I have enough stuff, even though most of them are from my highschool years and back. Also, our definition of style is really different, so I don't think that I would wear the clothes she picks either way.
Walking towards the bathroom, I open the shower and check myself in the mirror while waiting for the water to warm up. The hickeys on my neck are a much deeper color than yesterday night, but the memory of Jackson's lips there makes me smile in content.
I can't believe I'm going to see him two days in a row. Usually we don't spend enough time together due to his work and well my fucked up brain, but today he promised to come and get me from the uni after I finish my classes.
That's a good enough reason to get me through the day.
My body relaxes under the hot steam and soon I'm out of the shower putting my clothes on. I take a little extra time to cover the bruises on my neck and chest area and comb my hair.
I need a haircut. A few more inches and they will touch my back dimples.
Taking my phone from the nightstand and the bag with my stuff I walk down the stairs to the kitchen.
My mom is sitting on a chair reading something on her tablet and taking small sips from her coffee.
''There is some pie in the oven if you want.'' She says, without averting her gaze from the screen.
''I'll pass.'' I answer, looking through the fridge for some milk. I don't really eat in the morning mostly because I usually wake up feeling nauseous. But I force myself to get something in my system before I start the day.
Making a bowl with cereal, I sit opposite her and eat.
''Your father called.'' She says after a while.
Crap. I totally forgot to check with him.
After their fight, another work trip came up conveniently and he left for a couple of weeks. I'm sure this was just an excuse to avoid my mother and even though I feel for him, at some point he needs to stop acting like a child and confront her.
He texted and called a few times, but I was so occupied with everything that I forgot to call him back.
''He is somewhere in Florida. Or at least that's what he says.'' She mumbles indifferently.
''What's that supposed to mean?'' I ask, trying hard not to roll my eyes at her words.
''Exactly what I said Daphne.'' She answers oddly calm, still not paying any attention to me.
''Well somebody needs to work.'' I say, drinking the leftovers of my milk.
Her eyes suddenly snap from whatever she was reading and I find her staring at me coldly.
''I agree. Which reminds me. What happened with the baby siting you were doing for the Sothbergs? They are back from their vacation. Aren't they?''
I catch her crude remark but try to keep my attitude under control.
I used to babysit their kids since I can remember. While they grew up I became more like their ''home teacher'' to help them with their schoolwork, but a few months ago, Mrs Sothberg had an accident and took some time off her work, which basically meant they didn't need me. After that summer vacations came up and I lost track of them. I was planning on calling her because even though I never had a problem with money, I like to feel independent, at least in that aspect of my life, but shit happens.
''I'm was planning to contact them.''
''Good. You do that.'' She says giving me some sort of a mocking smile, before she gets up and leaves the room.
Huffing annoyed, I put my bowl in the dishwasher taking a side glance to the powder room across the hall, where I see her fixing her makeup. I take a moment to inspect her appearance, from the floral pattern of her dress, to the high heels and the small golden hoops on her ears. She seems to pay extra attention to her looks these days.
Don't get me wrong. My mom has always been into fashion, not so in a way of buying expensive brands, but more like investing in pieces that she will wear forever. I remember going with her in vintage shops to find clothes and art galleries to decorate our house. It was one of my favorite things to do with her.
I can recall visiting museums in our free time which made everyone in my class making fun of me, mostly because I was the weird kid who actually enjoyed doing these things. I had such a great love for history and art that even though the kids around me used to make fun of my obsession with it, she would always take my side and support my interests.
These sudden memory pieces seem to appear a lot lately. And honestly, I don't know what to do with them. It brings a heaviness in my heart to know that things are not like this anymore and I'm not sure if I can do anything to change it.
Discarding the depressing thoughts, I take my things and walk out the door, grabbing my plaid cardigan in the process.
Focus on the good stuff Daphne.
I mentally whisper to myself which brings only one thought in my mind followed by a smile.
Bob.
*
The coffee shop if fully packed when I get there.
I stand for a moment outside the window watching my smiley friend making drinks, practically glowing from how much he is enjoying it.
A girl outside the counter spills her coffee on herself and Bob is already treating her with some napkins, while he tries to dry her jacket with his hands.
I'm not sure how he expects this to work but I laugh either way seeing him talking nonstop to her.
I missed this dork.
Soon the girl's face twists into a smile like every other person who spends five minutes with him and she takes a new cup before exiting the shop chuckling.
Yep. That's Bob's effect.
After watching him like a crazy stalker behind the glass, I walk inside taking my place in the line.
There are two baristas working along with him, which explains how they can handle all these people.
When my time comes up Bob is in the back of the store and a curly haired guy smiles politely to me.
"What can I get you?"
I look around awkwardly searching for a glance of my friend's figure in the back but he is nowhere around.
How can I ask for a different barista without coming off rude?
"Yeah?" He says looking at the line of people behind me.
Shit. I'm stalling everyone.
"Can I have Bob? I mean Rob?" I say after panicking for a moment.
"Have him as...?" He aks raising an eyebrow and I almost curse myself for not being able to make a sentence without sounding like a crazy person.
"N-no have him..more like see him? Um I mean.."
His warm laugh saves me from the little meltdown I was having and I see him smiling kindly.
"I'm kidding. Relax. I'll call him."
Exhaling deeply I thank him and move out of the way to let the other clients take their orders.
A couple minutes later the cheerful voice I grew accustomed to, beams through the shop and I turn around to look at my favorite person.
''Little brat!'' He almost screams at my face, before he engulfs me in a tight hug.
My hands move automatically around his shoulders and I squeeze him back.
''I should have known it was you. There are not many pretty girls looking for me usually.'' He says, as soon as we seperate.
''Pretty girls?'' I ask confused.
''Yep. Manuel said a pretty one was asking for me.''
''Oh.'' My face heats up at the sound of his words and I give a side glance to the curly haired boy in the register.
''Relax. It was just a compliment. He doesn't bite.''
''I know.'' I say blushing.
''Wanna sit?'' He asks pointing towards a table.
''Sure but are you allowed to?''
'''Yeah, don't worry. I'll just take my break earlier. Sit and I'm going to get you something.''
Following his lead I take a seat behind the table, while he walks towards the counter. I watch him preparing a drink and even though I try not to look, my eyes drift momentarily to the boy next to him.
As if he felt my stare, he glances towards me giving me a subtle wink and I snap my head quickly in front of me.
Bad Daphne.
''Here it is.'' Bob appears again holding a cup in his hands.
I look at it cautiously, the pleasant smell filling my nostrils.
''What is it?''
''Cinnamon shortbread latte.'' He answers with a smirk.
''What the hell Bob. You know I don't like sweet drinks.''
''I also know that you like cinnamon.''
''In snacks. Like cinnamon rolls, not randomly placed in a cup of coffee.''
''We agreed I will bring some sweetness to your life.''
''That's like a sugary bomb in disguise.''
''Can you try it and stop complain already?''
Giving in, I take a sip from the drink tasting the warm substance. It is a little bit sweeter than I can handle, but the cinnamon flavor saves the aftertaste.
''So?'' He asks impatiently.
''It's okay.''
''Liar. It's more than okay.''
''Fine it's tolerable. Maybe if another barista had made it it would taste better.''
''Ouch. And here I thought you were nothing but cotton and rainbows.''
''Nope. You got me all wrong.'' I say smiling.
''Yeah right. So what's popping? I haven't seen you in forever.''
''I know. I'm sorry. Things were pretty..hectic. But it's better now.''
''Are you okay?'' He asks worriedly and I can't help but melt a little from how caring he is.
''I am.''
And after a long time, I kind of mean it.
*
We didn't have enough time to catch up since Bob was practically still working and I had a class to attend, but I promised to call him as soon as I could so we could plan a fun night together.
There were a lot of things I wanted to talk about with him, most of them regarding Jackson but I knew that it would be a long conversation, so I chose to share a few facts and keep the details for later.
Bob offered to wait for me after work because we were both ending our schedules around the same time, a suggestion I had to reject considering the fact Jackson was going to pick me up.
''Ooooh I see.'' He said winking at me suggestively, while I run out to catch the bus.
Fifteen minutes later I'm sitting beside Zoey, waiting for the professor to show up.
''Have you heard about that frat party the other day?'' She says, checking her phone.
''No, what happened?''
''Apparently the cops came in and they found an insanely amount of drugs hidden all over the place.''
''Really?''
''Yeah and I'm not even talking about weed or ecstasy. It was cocain. Dozens of packs.''
''You went there?''
''No. Eva told me about it. We had an early class together.''
''Since when do you go to early morning classes?'' I ask, teasing her.
''I thought I would give it a try.'' She says, shrugging.
''That's good. What did you do during the weekend?''
''Nothing really. I hang out a little bit with Josh and made my assignments for the week.''
''You did?'' I ask dumbfounded.
Zoey is in no way a bad student. But she never really cared about these things except from the exams period. She has always been the one to party before a Monday, or during the week, skipped a lot of classes and mostly studied with the notes we took while she was asleep somewhere else. So, to hear that she decided to skip a full weekend to sit home and study makes me at least concerned.
''Yeah. What's with the face? You didn't think I could handle it?''
''No, no. It's not that. I just know you usually work them at the last minute. But good for you.'' I say, offering her an encouraging smile.
''Thanks.'' She mumbles looking at her phone.
A moment of silence passes by and I can't help but observe the way she wears no makeup today. Her hair is up in a bun, a single scrunchy holding her curly black locks. A simple white t-shirt and a pair of green sweats underneath are completely opposite to what I usually see her wearing. And even though I still think she looks beautiful with her natural tanned skin and her perfect almond shaped eyes, she does seem a little dull today.
And there is nothing dull about Zoey.
''Is everything alright?''
''Yeah.'' She answers by shutting off her phone.
''Have you seen you know who these days?''
''Voldemort?''
''No Zoey.'' I say, lowering my voice. ''I mean professor Evans.''
Something shifts behind her eyes and I see her gulping hard before she responds.
''No. We don't see each other anymore. We hardly did anyway. It's over.''
I can tell by the bitterness in her tone that something indeed happenned, but I don't have time to question her further.
The door opens and a familiar tall figure walks inside.
Speak of the devil.
Mr Evan's blonde hair catches the light through the window and I see his blue eyes piercing at us. Or to be more precise at Zoey.
I can see them having some sort of a mental fight, until he finally averts his gaze starting the class.
Half an hour later we are in the middle of Anna Krennina book analysis when Zoey starts sifting restlessly in her seat.
''I think that Anna had such a passionate nature that her wedding couldn't satisfy it.That's why she became so infatuated with Vronsky.'' A girl from the front row says.
''That's true. But even him wasn't enough in the end to make her happy. At least not in the way she wanted. Anna becomes cruel and self-destroying in order to keep her love affair. Why is that?''
''Her feelings were too powerful. The way she loved was too powerful which made her...well crazy.'' Another girl says.
Chris laughs taking off his glasses, casually sitting on top of his desk. ''That's one side of it. I would say she was more of an attention and love seeker in the worst way. Her love was toxic.''
''And Vronsky's wasn't?'' A rough voice breaks the silence and I snap my head abruptly when I realise it was the girl beside me.
Zoey.
Chris takes a moment to study her before he replies calmly. ''Yes he was. We are not taking sides here. We...''
''Oh but you are. Anna is the whore who couldn't feel satisfied with her life and trapped ''perfect'' Vronsky in her ruthless plans. Poor guy. We should feel sorry for him.''
My breath gets caught in my throat when I hear her talk like that in front of the class and so do the rest of them. Low whispers start around us making me instantly touch her leg under the table. And not in a way to shut her up. But to comfort her.
''How about the fact that Anna fell deeply and unconditionally in love with him after HE led her? She was the one who took the biggest risks and paid the price in the end.''
''They were both at fault. No one says the opposite. But Anna's impulsive personality was the reason they didn't have a happy end.'' Christopher answers letting me and the rest of the class watch their interaction like a ping pong match.
''Well maybe he wasn't worthy of her love in the first place.'' Zoey says, with a dead look in her eyes before she storms out the room.
Everybody stays silent after her dramatic departure, but only me and one more person in this room can tell what happened. Actually not even me. I can only make assumptions. He is the one who knows what's going on. As if he read my thoughts, his eyes drift on me momentarily giving me a slight nod to follow her.
Grabbing my things I leave the classroom in order to search for her. Likely I find her easily at the backyard holding her head between her palms.
''Zoey...'' I shakily mumble in an attempt to find the right words without making her feel uncomfortable.
''I know. I shouldn't have talked like that in front of everyone. They are going to think I am a bigger tramp than they already are.'' She says picking on her nails.
''Fuck what they think.'' I answer sternly. She is clearly delusional if she thinks I'm here to scold her. Or that I care about what everyone thinks of her.
Zoey has a certain reputation around the camp. And she definitely tried to live up to it. But I never thought anything less of her because she wasn't the type of ''friend'' my mom or other people would approve of. She likes to have sex. So what? If it was for a guy to sleep around and hook up with different people, or party all day no one would have said anything. Because that's the society we live in. A girl who is comfortable with her sexuality is basically labeled as bad news or worse a whore.
And Zoey was exactly that girl. At least for everyone else.
Because for me, she was the type of person I knew I couldn't be. Free from seeking people's approval, trying to satisfy their needs, make them happy. She was my exact opposite. And that's precisely the reason I became so close to her. I wanted to touch a little bit of this forbidden freedom.
Came for the attitude, but stayed for the character.
''What's going on between you two? I know that whatever happened inside the class didn't have to do with Anna Karenina.''
Her glossy eyes find mine and I see her bite on her lip in order to suppress whatever thoughts she was having.
''We are the fucked up cases D. Remember?'' Her words make my heart clench because I do remember them. Clearly. We were in the same position, a girl with a broken heart and another one who tried to comfort her.
Only this time I wasn't the broken one.
''Don't talk like that. Please.Tell me what's bothering you. What did he do?'' I ask worried.
''He didn't do anything. That's the problem.'' She says, smiling bitterly.
I'm not sure what to say, so I keep it silent to let her speak her mind.
''You know he wasn't wrong about Karenina's toxicity. She was toxic in her way. For herself and for everyone around her. It's really surprising how many common things you can find between yourself and a fictional character.''
''You are not toxic Zoey.'' I say cutting her off.
''Yes I am. I am that bitch and he is a liar. And a coward. Great couple we would've made huh?''
She scoffs at the idea, until another bitter smile takes over her facade.
''Books are not so unrealistic after all. And there is a reason why we are so attracted to them. What's your favorite, Romeo and Juliet right?''
''Yeah.'' I say looking down. ''And Gone with the wind.''
''Mmm I remember.'' She says softly, keeping her gaze ahead of her. ''Both of them have sad endings, don't they?''
Her observation stunned me for a moment. Mostly, because I've never paid attention to their common factor. But now it seems impossible to not think about it. And the idea itself petrifies me.
''Yeah. They do.''
*
After my conversation with Zoey my head was all over the place and I could hardly focus on my next class. Leaving the auditorium, I pushed my way through the people searching for the familiar black motorcycle. But he wasn't there.
Odd. One thing I have learned about Jackson is that he is never late.
Taking my phone out, I check the time. 15:25.
The professor left us 10 minutes later. I was practically running to see him but I guessed he got stuck in traffic.
Sitting on a bench I scroll down my instagram while I wait for him. The time passes by extremely slowly and every now and then I look up searching for his tall figure.
20 minutes late.
Maybe something happened ?
Opening our text chain I type a quick message.
Daphne: I'm waiting outside the West entrance. :)
My feet tap anxiously waiting for his reply, but it never comes.
I wait for another ten minutes before writing another one.
Daphne: You didn't forget me right? :p
Sent.
The idea of standing here while everyone is watching me humiliating myself creeps on my mind and I shudder. No. Jackson wouldn't do that.
Something must have happened. But why didn't he text me?
Pressing the call button on his contact I hear the beeping sound and wait for his deep voice to appear. No luck.
My call goes straight to voicemail, even though I try around five times.
Immediate tears prick on my eyes but I blink them away. He is fine. He just forgot.
Standing up from the bench, I start walking, typing a last text to him.
Daphne: I went to my friend's workplace. I'm sending you the address in case you are looking for me.
I almost type an apology too for doing something to bother him but I restrain myself.
You did nothing wrong Daphne. Something came up. It has to be.
Fighting the familiar depressing feeling that sets into my heart, I leave the campus and take the bus to Bob's coffee place. I can only hope that he is still there and I won't embarrass myself further.
Luckily, I see his slim figure walking here and there inside the shop and I exhale deeply.
''Brat. What are you doing here?'' He says as soon as he sees me.
''Is it bad timing?'' I ask looking around for the rest of the staff.
''Not at all. I'm almost done with my shift. I thought you were going out today.''
''Well yeah normally I would but...he didn't come.'' I mumble, biting on my lip to suppress the harsh stub on my chest.
Bob's eyebrows furrow for a second giving me a confused look.
''He stood you up?''
The words sting when he put them together like that but I guess he is right. He did.
''Yeah. I don't know.''
''Did you call him?'
''Multiple times. And texted. But he didn't answer to any of them.''
Watching me frown, Bob grabs my hand leading me to one of the tables.
''Obviously something came up. Otherwise he wouldn't leave you hanging. Maybe his phone broke or something..''
''Yeah maybe.'' I whisper more to myself than him.
I have to believe it otherwise I'll go nuts.
''Hey, stop looking so gloomy. My friend can't be like that. Do you want to come to my house and chill there for a little while?''
''Um. I told Jackson that I would be here. In case he sees my text and searches for me. I should probably wait for a little bit.''
God I sound pathetic.
''That's alright. I'm going to wait with you.''
''Are you sure?'' I ask hesitantly. I don't want him to take time off his day just to keep me company. Especially after working non stop for hours.
''Ofcourse. But in one condition. You will try my specialty.''
''Bob I'm really not hungry..''
''Nonsense. I can't have you wait here with an empty stomach or your boyfriend is going to beat me up when he arrives.''
A small smile carves on my lips hearing him say that, mostly because I know he did it to make me feel better.
''Okay.''
''Yesssss'' He exclaims with remarkable excitement, skipping towards the back of the shop and making me laugh.
Such a goofball.
My eyes drift again to my phone, looking for any new messages or calls but there is nothing.
It's been more than an hour. Where is he?
The clicking sound of a plate brings me out of my thoughts and I turn to see a piece of red velvet cake placed in front of me
''Bob. Are you serious? I told you about the sugar...'' But my sentence gets caught off by the pair of honey brown eyes looking at me.
''I just thought it could make up your mood. You seem sad.'' The boy from the register says.
''Oh. Thank you...'' I mumble awkwardly.
''Manuel.'' He extends his hand smiling at me.
''Thank you Manuel.'' I say shaking his hand.
''And you?''
''What?''
''What's your name?'' He asks, chuckling at my stunned face.
''Oh, sorry. I'm Daphne.''
''Nice to meet you Daphne.'' He says, giving me another smile.
''Likewise.''
''Well, I need to get back to work. I hope you enjoy it.'' He comments, leaving me alone to serve another customer.
Watching him taking the order I observe his features, from the beautiful shape of his eyes to the perfect smile and the muscular back. He is definitely attractive. Probably a couple of years older than me. Okay, more than attractive. And by the way the girls are giggling around him they must think the same.
''What is that?'' Bob says caughting my attention.
''Oh. Manuel brought it for me.''
''Manuel? You couldn't even look at him in the morning and now he is Manuel?''
''I mean that's his name?'' I say confused.
''Jesus brat I can't leave you alone for a minute and they are all over you.''
Rolling my eyes I look at the plate he is holding. ''What's there?''
''The meal of your life.''
*
Bob made his purpose to stuff my face with every treat that he could get his hands on and even though I tried his dessert, the red velvet Manuel brought me won my attention, making him pout dramatically.
After that we spent almost an hour talking about random things, laughing uncontrollably and teasing each other, until I forgot everything about my failed date with Jackson and the fact that he did stand me up. Or worse...Totally ignored my existence.
''Can you imagine the embarrassment? It was on my top three worst dates I've ever been to. And that says a lot considering how many bad experiences I have.'' He says, making me laugh.
''You are right. That was certainly bad. I don't even want to know what the top two are.''
''You really don't. Hey I've been meaning to tell you this. We'll go to a party this Friday. Would you like to come?''
''Oh. I'm not sure to be honest. It took a really crazy turn the last time I went to one.'' I murmur thinking about the drug dealing with Isaac and my meeting with Jackson.
''You do have a way to make a strong presence. I'm not going to lie about that. But this time it won't be in a house.''
''It won't?''
''No. It's an outdoor area. I don't know many details. It is like a secret party.''
''What do you mean?'' I ask confused.
''We are talking about a private fest. More exclusive. It happens every once in a while. No one knows who organizes it. We just receive a message for the time and the place.''
''How can it be private when everyone receives a text?''
''Well not everyone. You have to have access. Usually a few people get it and they bring their group of friends or whatever. That's how it goes.''
''And how many people can you bring?''
''There is no limit. And it's Isaac who knows about it not me.''
''Oh I see.'' I say awkwardly.
It's been more than a month since I saw him and suddenly I get a slight anxious feeling with the possibility I'll meet him again. I don't know what is about Isaac that makes me feel so conscious. It's like I'm terrified and at the same time drawn to him. It really doesn't make sense.
''Don't feel any pressure. Just think about it and answer me.'' Bob reassures me.
''Alright.''
''Rob can you come here for a minute?'' Manuel asks and soon I'm left alone again.
My mind drifts instantly to Jackson and I take my phone to make a last attempt.
''Where are you going?'' Bob asks, watching me standing up.
''I'm going to take a phone call outside. I'll be right back.''
Stepping outside I take a long breath of fresh air, before I find the guts to call him again. A wave of anxiety rushes through me thinking that he won't answer. It's been hours, how could he not see my messages?
Exhaling deeply I take the call.
Here goes nothing.
This time the phone does ring, but now I'm the one who shuts it after the second sound. My eyes stay locked with the person on the other side of the road walking beside a young woman.
Without even thinking about it, I cross the road following behind them while random cars stop abruptly hitting their horns. But I'm too out of it to comprehend what's happening.
It can't be.
The two of them walk casually close to each other making small talk and smiling together, the sight enough to have my guts twisting. They seem like they don't have another care in the world.
But what's making me sick to my stomach is when I find their destination.
A hotel.
The two of them walk inside, while I stand like a stone looking at them moving towards the reception.
After conversing for a little bit, they take a key and go to the elevators. My feet instantly bring me inside the lobby where I look around like a fish out of water. I can hardly breathe at this point but I force myself to follow them.
''Excuse me miss.'' A firm voice stops me and a tall man in a suit smiles. ''Can I help you?''
''Umm... I'm looking for someone.''
''You do?'' He asks, raising an eyebrow to my obvious distressed state.
''Yeah. We are supposed to have a drink here. At the bar.'' I lie through my teeth and for the first time in so long I don't need to stutter in a situation like this.
''Oh.'' He says checking my attire which definitely doesn't match with the style of the hotel.
''What's the person's name you are waiting for? I can call him for you.''
My lips part ready to pick up another lie but a worker appears saving me. ''Sir, we need your assistance. It's urgent.''
The director's eyes stay fixed on my face making it obvious that he doesn't believe my bullshit. ''Wait here.'' He says coldly.
I nod slightly watching him leaving the lobby and the moment he disappears I run towards the elevator hitting the number of the floor they went on.
My heart beats alarming quickly from all the adrenaline and anxiety and I feel my legs giving up on me. I steady myself on the wall taking a few deep breaths.
You are okay. You are safe.
The words don't do anything to calm my nerves, but I play them over and over as a way to reassure myself.
I can see five different rooms on the floor I am currently in and I look around for any sign of them. I will knock every single door if I have to.
Ready to start my search, I move ahead raising my hand in front of the first number. But I don't get to knock.
A deep laugh is heard from the end of the hall. The kind of laugh I could recognise from everywhere and an instant feeling of dread washes over me.
Standing outside I bite on my lip hard to prevent the tears from slipping before I face them.
I need to know.
Without realising it my shaking hand knocks firmly on the wood. The muffled voices stop instantly and light steps head towards the door.
Feeling my pulses increasing, I place a hand on my heart like a shield to protect it.
But there are some things you can't prevent. Things that are meant to be broken.
The wooden surface I was looking at so hard finally disappears and a pair of eyes similar to mine stare at me in nothing but sock and fear.
''Dad.''
*
My father's gaze stays locked with mine and it's as if time has stopped. I see with the corners of my eyes the blonde woman he was with, stepping into my view.
''Michael, who is it?'' She asks oblivious to what is happening.
But no one says anything. Because he knows. And I do too.
''Can I help you?'' The woman talks again clearly confused from my dad's lack of response, but for some reason I take pleasure looking at him not knowing what to say.
He always had his way with words. He could get away with everything by using them right. That's something I always admired in him. That and the fact that he was so patient with us.
I guess there is a price for everything.
''I don't know, can you?'' I say sarcastically and my tone seems to snap my dad from his daze.
''Daphne...'' He starts but I cut him off. ''I thought Florida was more sunny.''
''I can explain..''
''You are Daphne?'' The woman speaks looking at me surprisingly pleased. ''I've heard so much about you.''
Her words make me want to vomit. He speaks with her for me?
The obvious look of disgust in my face says it all and my dad grabs my hand in order to bring me inside.
''Please come in. I can explain.''
''Explain what? How you were lying all this time, while me and mom were thinking you were on a work trip?''
''Daphne it's not like that.''
''How many of these trips did you fake in order to walk around town with her huh? And you didn't even think we could meet each other by accident. Or you just didn't give a damn?'' I rant angry.
He looks completely taken aback by my approach, which I guess makes sense considering I would never speak to him that way. He was my hero. My ally. And now he is just another fucked up case in my life.
''Please calm down.''
''Don't tell me to calm down.'' I spat frustrated.
How can he be so chill about this? And this stupid blondie beside him standing there as if there is nothing wrong with this.
''If you stop acting hysterically I will explain....''
''Are you listening to yourself? How do you want me to act after finding that my father was lying to me and was spending his ''work trip'' with a random slut in the streets.''
My words hold all the bitterness and the anger I have in me. And even though I know I'm going to regret them at some point I don't stop. I can't.
That's how empty I feel.
''Watch the way you speak.'' He corrects me sternly and an almost devious smile breaks from my lips.
''Watch how I speak? Really? You are pathetic. And I'm an idiot for thinking I have been lucky in my family. Screw you dad.'' I say giving him a last glance of pity, before I leave running down the corridor.
My father yells behind me to stop me, but I don't hear him, eyes locked with the bright red sign of the "exit" I take down the stairs not looking back.
Another fucked up case.
*
The tears staining my cheeks drawn attention from the people around me. All of them giving me worried glances.
In any other case I would have felt embarassed to know everyone is looking at me. Judging or just pitting me, but this time I don't care.
I'm so emotionally disconected, someone could hit me in the face and I couldn't care.
It would probably hurt less than what I feel right now.
I know he is not the first man to cheat on his wife, my mother is not the first woman leaving a lie and I'm definetely not the first daughter to find out about it. But it hurts.
It fucking does.
No matter how old you become, how mature or indepedent you feel, family is family.
And every single thing that happens inside it, either you experience it as a little kid or as an adult, it still screws you up.
I have a lot of things to fuck me up already.
My father wasn't supposed to be one of them.
But like every good thing in my life he took the wrong turn.
And know I'm left with almost nothing.
Almost.
That's the thought that lead me in my current position. Standing outside Jackson's appartment building, hopping that he at least, is going to pick up my pieces.
Once again, I step inside the familiar elevator taking what I tend to be the last ride of my shuttered heart.
I don't care if he left me hanging today, if he didn't pick up my calls and answered my messages.
He is the only thing that can fix right now.
And like every addict I find myself ringing pathetically on his door, red eyes and chapped lips, a pure mess.
I wait for a couple of minutes staring at my shoes, but not really looking at them.
The door suddenly opens and my eyes drift to the beautiful figure.
Beautiful and red.
Because right there stands one of the most gorgeous women I've seen in my life.
Long red hair and fair skin, with light freckles decorating her cheekbones.
She looks like a muse out of a Renaissance painting and without intending to, I feel my body shrink.
I know I look indifferent in front of her. At least.
"Hey." She says, her voice calm and collective.
"H-hi." I stutter like a baby.
"How can I help you."
"Um..is Jackson here?" I ask hesitant.
I'm not sure who she is but her stare alone makes me feel conscious. Probably because I know she can tell I had been crying.
"He is not actually." She answers simply.
"Oh. You know where he is?" My voice comes out hoarse, as if I've just had a cigarette or two.
Looking at me cautiously, she takes her time to study me. From my flushed cheeks to the simple cardigan I have one, the sleeves of it covering almost my knuckles.
I must look like a joke.
And she seems flawless. With a black pair of trousers and a simple black vest. Her outfit choice just reminds me how small I must seem to her.
"He is out for work." She replys politely.
There is nothing hostile about her. She looks pretty content standing there as if she has done this a thousand times.
"D-do you know when he is coming back?" I find the courage to ask.
But when she is ready to answer a deep and husky voice comes from the back of the house.
"Liv."
From the look in her eyes I can tell she knows I heard it.
I heard him.
He is there.
And the worst part is I can tell he was aleep. Because I can recognise his wake up voice from everywhere.
"Sorry." The girl whispers. "He was really tired and he asked me to not let anyone disturb him. Would you mind coming by another time?"
Now she just looks eager to send me away.
"I-I..."
"Tell me your name and I will tell him you were looking for him." She adds and I can tell she tries hard to keep her calm facade.
But I'm too numb to fight this.
Too numb and tired.
"Daphne. My name is Daphne." I whisper to her, while she nods accepting my repsonse.
"I'll let him know." She says ready to close the door, but I stop her.
"Who are you?"
My direct question seems to surpise her, although it's not enough to strike her confidence.
"I'm Olivia." She replys simply. As if this is a factor I should have known.
And maybe I should.
Because when the door shuts again, she goes back to my Joker and I stand alone behind it. The floral sense of her perfume lingering around me along with one thought in my mind.
The freakin red.
***
Hey, it's me. StorytimewithC.
Thank you all for joining me today.
(I wanna know if anyone got the reference) 😜
I'm back with another chapter. A really long one.
7.295 words percisely.
I can only hope that you guys make it till the end and won't give up one it.
I know it's been quite a ride.
I haven't really used a lot of the characters for the last chapters and suddenly I put them all together but it's for a good reason.
This chapter is basically what his title says.
Red flags that will play an important role on the story.
I know it may seem as if I gave away uneeded details but I promise you I put everything in the right place and they'll eventually make sense.
There are many hidden eggs there. 🙃
I hope you enjoy it enough to like and comment.
I love reading your thoughts and even though I know a lot of you are silent readers (I am too), I can tell that by the writter's perspective, it's really important to get feedback.
Other than that please feel free to enjoy it however you like.
The chapters that will follow this are going to have a lot of craziness because the good stuff starts now.
Lots of love
❤️
P. S. Mature content will be included in the next ones. Be ready. 😇