It's day one of Mission Isolation. That's what I'm calling it. I tried thinking of a cooler name but came up with nothing. Nada. So MI it is.
I'm trying to keep myself happy, or as happy as I can be with the constant reminders on my face. I don't want to mope so I'm occupying myself. I took my hamster on a tour of the manor since she never sees it often. I played with Leia in the lounge rooms and watched a few episodes of Battlestar Galactica.
Nobody's home. Grayson's at his private college, Sage is at work, Azure's at school and I don't know where mom is. I'm just glad I don't have to face her.
I turn a corner, stalking down an empty hallway with Leia curled against my chest. It's long and empty, barring the large paintings on the wall. My feet, on their own accord, start to move more flawlessly. One step after another and though I don't have pointe shoes on, I lift onto the tips of my toes.
I move slowly, a little apprehensively so I'm not technically dancing. Just moving in a...dancey way, I guess. I miss it. My legs and my torso reminisce over the feeling of being so weightless.
I stop in front of a large floor-to-ceiling window and slowly, allow my back to curve. Testing the waters. Remembering the weightlessness. I shut my eyes and remember how long it took me to perfect en pointe.
Holding all of your body weight on your feet isn't an easy feat and took me a while to perfect the technique, though it takes a lot of dancers years. My favourite stands to always be fouettés. Spins where your leg is extended, one of the most difficult turns.
Ballet is intense. Graceful but damaging. Effortless but requiring insane amount of body strength. Perfect looking but with its hidden complications. I think I've always resonated with that.
Leia mewls against me so I sit on the small windowsill under the window and cross my legs-
"What are you doing?"
I jump out of my skin and snap my head besides me, to Ruth. Jesus, she looks scary a lot of the time. All of her features are dark but her eyes are a deep, midnight blue. She's already seen my face and I already told her the excuse so she's not looking at me like I'm a horror anymore.
"Sitting." I swallow, "With my monstrosity."
She visibly grimaces when she looks down to Leia. Ruth just stands there, dead silent and watching me with her hawk eyes. I shift and then smile awkwardly, "Hi?"
"Lunch." Is all she says.
"Are you gonna keep standing there or-"
"Hush." She lifts her chin, and struts away.
What an odd, odd woman. I just sit there and watch as she walks, in sort of awe. She's an oddball but she can be kinda nice sometimes. Always so stoic and sharp. And has never got along with mom.
I keep Leia in my arms and walk down the hallways until I reach the kitchen and take my plate of food. Mother kept me on a strict diet once I started dancing and even thought I've stopped, she looks at me like I'm committing a crime whenever I consume excess sugar or processed foods.
But I hate veggies. So I just resort to not eating a lot of the time, instead.
As I walk further in, I spot the curly-haired maid and a smile lights up my face, which is still sore so that hurt a bit. I approach her and she turns around.
And then she jumps out of her skin, stumbling backwards.
I know I look bad and I should get over the feeling of dejection but it still runs through me so strongly that I want to sink into myself. I feel disgusting. I quickly apologise, "I'm sorry."
She's hurriedly holding my arms in her grasp, "Cherie, what has happened to you? Are you- did somebody-"
"I'm okay. There was a fight at school between some boys and I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I got caught in the middle."
She pulls me into a gentle hug, "Oh, Violet, sweetie. Don't apologise. I apologise for jumping like that. I didn't know you were home. Would you like some smoothie? I'm sure it'd cheer you up."
It's such simple gentleness but my heart feels like it expands in my chest. It's hard for me to bite back the big smile I want to let out and I practically squeak, "I'd like that."
She starts to prepare the ingredients. If she looked my way, she'd see the admiration in my eyes. Comforting natures within people, like hers, feel like they light up my heart.
"I never got your name." I say quietly.
"Lila." She smiles as she chops some strawberries, "You can call me whatever you like."
"That's a beautiful name." I smile, "I'll call you Li. Or La. No, Li works better. Is that okay?"
She chuckles now as she tosses the fruit into the blender, "Of course it's okay, cherie. Would you mind getting the milk for me?"
I walk over to the fridge besides us, pull the carton out and hand it to her. Once she's done, she pours some into a glass and slides a straw inside, holding it out to me.
I beam, "Thank you."
There's some smoothie left but she doesn't look like she's gonna do anything with it so I reach up on my tippy toes for another glass. Setting it down, I pour the rest in, slide in a straw and hold it out to her.
"Oh, dear, I need to get back to work-"
"I'm sure you can take a little break. It's so good." I assure her and she takes it out of my hand. She takes a sip and I wiggle my eyebrows, smiling.
"Yes." She nods, "Why is this so good?"
We both chuckle and I pivot on one foot, "I'm going into the gardens. Do you want to come?"
"Thank you but I must get back to work."
"Okay. But I should take you on a tour sometime. And we could pick strawberries." I say, "I mean, if you want."
She chuckles lightly, "Of course I'd want to. Now, go. Leave your maid be."
We both smile and I make my way out of the back patio, into the gardens. The sun's out and shines upon the rows of magnolias and marigolds, lilies and lotuses. They're an array of colours, bursting within their pack.
In the centre of this area, sits a small fountain and behind this expanse, there's the hedgerow maze. Little daisies grow in the corner of every hedgerow and I used to love it in there when I was a little.
Right now, I'm too lazy to walk all that way to the maze so I perch on the edge of the fountain when I eventually get to it.
If I stay quiet enough and think hard enough, I can almost remember what these gardens sounded like when I was a child. We were always in them, either one of us. Mother crocheted. Dad was always about somewhere and the boys messed around.
It was our place. If I shut my eyes, I can remember how we'd laugh in the summer when the sprinkles would turn on. Me and Sage would race through them. I can remember the sounds of mom and dad calling us all in once evening started to come. Our family together.
It feels like that's all my life has come to. Reminiscing of what was. Wondering if that was the pinnacle. I always yearn for things to go back to the way they were but what if that's it now? Once Auby left, we were meant to stop there.
I snap out of it when my phone rings in my pocket and I slip it out, holding it to my ear.
I look up to the sun as I speak, "Hello?"
"I have a question, Violet Fawn."
I shouldn't have smiled that quickly. I smiled so quick. I'm silent for a moment as I tuck my hands under my thighs, "I'm listening, Everest Ronan."
He's ringing me. I can hear school bustle around him so he's ringing me, whilst he's at school. I get rid of my smile before it gets embarrassing.
"Are you dying?"
My eyebrows furrow, "Why would I be-"
"I asked Aurelie and she said you don't miss school unless you're dying." He says, "It'd be rude of you to die right now."
"I'm not dying."
I can imagine him narrowing his eyes, "Are you sure?"
"Pretty sure, yeah."
"Okay...but like are you sure sure-"
"I am not dying. Cross my heart." I bite back a laugh and then proceed to lie, "I'm ill though. I won't be in school for a few days."
"Oh." He's quiet for a second, "Okay. Cool."
My lips tip up, "You should make it less obvious that you miss me, sweet-talker."
"Pfft. What? Me? Miss you?" He scoffs, "Nuh uh." He clears his throat and goes quiet for just a second longer, "So do you- when are you gonna be back?"
I cross my legs on the fountain and muse, "Well, jeez, Everest Ronan. You should get your act together. We can't have people thinking you're madly in love with me."
"Sweetheart, that's already a problem. I guess our endless love is just so clear to the masses." He taunts and I can hear the little smile in his voice. "Is that Vy?" I hear from the other line.
Everest responds, "Nope. Barack Obama-"
"Why are you talking to Violet?" I can recognise Taylor's voice and stay dead silent. He needs to get us out of this situation because Tay and Aurelie have a big problem with us being anything.
"Am not. Fuck off, Tay." Ev retorts. Great.
"Show me the phone." Taylor grits out.
"Would you look at that?" I hear Everest getting up, "I need a piss suddenly- ow. Dude." I'm pretty sure I just heard him getting dragged back, scuffle sounds out over the phone.
"Violet?" Taylor's voice sounds out.
"Wait, he was talking to Violet?!" Another excited voice chimes in and I realise it's Ollie, "Fuck yeah-"
"Shut up, Olive." Everest snaps back. Ollie just giggles. Maybe if I just stay silent, it'll be like I've disappeared and Taylor will never know-
"I can see the contact name, Vy. I know its you." He says. That failed quicker than I anticipated.
"He was just asking about school stuff." I quickly say.
"Everest Jones?" He doesn't sound amused, "Asking about school stuff? He's already got you lying."
"Hey," I frown, "I lie of my own accord. Taylor-"
His tone gets more irritated, "Vy, I've known you since you were fifteen. And I don't want to dictate-"
Everest snorts, "Dick. Tate."
He's not making this any better.
I hear a wince so I'm assuming Taylor punched him before he continues, "But I just want what's best for you. Aurelie does too."
"There's nothing to worry about. I'm literally just tutoring him-"
"And ringing him?" He says and I sink into myself, "I just don't want to see you hurt."
I love Taylor and Aurelie. But not being able to stand up for myself led to them always protecting me. Somewhere between all that, it feels as though I've lost my voice. I'm always something to protect and by doing that, I'm also always dismissed. On the sidelines.
Never one to actually like somebody or do anything without there possibly being some ulterior motive.
"I need to go." I say quietly.
"Vy-"
"It's okay. I understand, you just want what's best. Ruth's calling me. I'll see you later, Tay." I say politely and hang up before he can say anything else. I fight back the urge to toss the stupid phone into the fountain. I'm not angry at him. I never would be. I just feel so small, all the time.
My phone pings.
Everest: be wild with me and let's chop off taylor's balls.
Despite myself, my lips tug at the corners. And then I groan at myself for it, wanting to throw my phone into the water again. Everything seems to be against me and him. He should be the last person's texts I smile at or the boy I want to see again.
My family's always warned me away from him. The Delaneys have some sort of rivalry against him. And the people I hold dear, want him away from me too. I should listen. I really should.
My phone lights up once more.
Everest: class is starting. i'll definitely not miss you or anything. don't let tay and his tiny balls get to you, sweetheart.
I'm so sick of listening. Not when the butterflies in my stomach are so much nicer to pay attention to.
***
Day three of Mission Isolation and whilst on this phone call, I've learnt some things. One. Everest has the attention span of a goldfish. If I even try and start talking about the history essay or literature, he'll somehow divert the whole topic.
I'm lying on my bed, fingers tracing over the silk canopy and my phone lies beside my head, on speaker. He called me last night too, to ask how I was feeling and I had to lie about fake symptoms. The call then somehow lasted an hour.
Throughout the day, I waited. Silently hoping that as night would come, he might call again. I've never really had someone to talk to like this so I lay in my bed and shut my eyes. Tried to forget about it. When my phone rang, I shot up a little too fast and ripped a part of my canopy because I got tangled up in it.
It's embarrassing. I'm not gonna think about it too much.
I proposed that we start some tutoring seeing as though last time didn't end so well and he really needs to get his grades up. I've gathered that soccer's important to him, more than he might let on. Once I mentioned the possibility of being kicked off the team, he agreed.
So I've been quizzing him as I lay here, in the dim light of my room, "The history of the 19th century can be understood through the twin lenses of?"
"I don't fucking know. Why do they need glasses?" He says, between bites of his chocolate. Second thing I've learnt, he loves his chocolate. He's always taking bites.
"Everest."
"Violet."
I sit up and run a hand through my hair, "How have you ever done school when your ability to focus is so bad?"
"How about I teach you a word, sweetheart?" He muses and I already roll my eyes. This can't be good, "Acting unfairly in order to gain an advantage. Cheating."
I grimace, "That's unethical. And crappy. Earning a grade all by yourself is so much better."
"If you're smart, then maybe." He sounds a little exasperated. His strengths don't lie in literature and history based subjects but more maths and sciencey.
"I think you're smart. You remember dates pretty well. Like-" I think of one, "Syllabus of Errors?"
"1864." He mumbles between bites of his chocolate.
"Hellenistic Period?"
"323 to 30- oh, for fucks sake, Miguel ate all my milk chocolate!" He says and I hear a thud, like he's thrown something. He mutters quietly, "That was my favourite."
I flop back onto the bed. I think he might be my most difficult tutee yet. I don't know how to get him to focus and I know right now, it's not gonna work. I untuck the comforter and wrap it around me like a burrito, hearing the crinkling of another wrapper from his side.
"Are you having another chocolate bar?" I ask, tucking myself in.
"I need it." He says and takes a bite, "I don't even like shitty dark chocolate."
"So why are you eating it?"
"Because-" He's quiet for just a second, just the gentle crinkling of the wrapper like he's fidgeting with it, "Instead of consuming stupid things, I eat chocolate."
I realise and the both of us are a little quieter. Before I can ask if he wants to drink, he interjects, "Let's play truth again. You first."
"Okay." I concede and mull one over, "I only like chocolate when its melted."
"But it's just the same thing." He retorts.
"But it's nicer when it's all warm." I smile, "Your go."
"Uhh-" He thinks and then speaks, "I never used to be able to eat chocolate without smearing it everywhere. It was a problem. Up until I was like thirteen."
A laugh spurts from me, "You couldn't keep chocolate in your mouth until you were thirteen?"
"Spare me and say your truth." He snips and I roll my lips in to keep my smile concealed.
"I— Oh, I used to have a problem with jumping off olive trees. I broke my arm once." I tell him.
"I broke my collarbone in three places when I jumped off a jumbo slide. Beat that." He says back.
"I've broken most of my fingers. Asides from my thumbs." I challenge.
"Well, I've broken both my elbows. And shattered my kneecap." He says and sounds incredibly proud.
I cringe, "Shattered?"
He sounds much somber, "Yeah that one hurt. Soccer accident."
I play with my fingers, "I can't think of another one. Tell me one of yours."
He doesn't say anything for a second. It's dark outside, the moonlight shining through my silk curtains and onto my bed. I reach my hand out and watch the way my fingers lighten and stay quiet. He knows I'm listening.
"I never, I don't know," He stops again, his tone more reserved and speaking slower, "I always drank a lot. I don't know why I never thought I had a problem. It's—"
"Scary?" I ask.
He sighs a little and I imagine him running a hand through his hair, "Yeah."
"What part's the scariest?" I ask, the quiet of the night around me feeling like a little world's being created around me and him. Both of us only listening to the other.
"Hurting someone." He says, a little quickly, like it blurted out of him.
"Hurting?" I furrow my eyebrows.
"It doesn't- forget I said that. Doesn't matter."
"Hey," I urge quietly and he listens, "I'm listening, Ev. Whatever you say remains in this pact of ours. If it scares you, it matters."
He takes another breath before he starts speaking, silence gliding around us for a moment.
I hear him fidgeting, "I black out sometimes. Not as much as I should with how much I drink but it does happen. Sometimes. And-"
He's finding it difficult. To open up, I realise. I'm not sure he does it a lot but I'm not going to push him. I hold my phone closer, practically hanging off his every word.
"I wake up. And I know that I've-" He falters, "Fucked. Had sex or whatever. I just don't know how it happens and every time, it scares the fuck out of me. How do I trust myself, when every time I get drunk, it feels like I'm letting it steal me away? I-"
"You lose control." I chime in quietly.
"Yeah. That's what I liked about it. At first. But I'm so-" I hear him shifting where he lies on his bed too, "I'm so scared of what I'll do."
"You never would. And you've never done anything-"
"I know." He says gently, "I've never touched a girl without her consent. And I say I never would but how am- how am I supposed to know that when I don't remember? Its just-" He groans and I hear him turning his face into his pillow because his next words are muffled, "I fear myself. I always want to be certain. I hate the lack of control now and it's fucking killing me, Vy."
I hug the comforter to me and whisper, "Ev?
"Mm mm." His face is still against the pillow.
"You're hiding. That's my thing." I muse, my lips lifting a little and I hope his are too.
"It's nicer than I thought." He mumbles, barely audible.
I'm quiet for just a moment and I take in everything he said. How he said it. The torment in his voice, clear it's been on his mind for a long while. Right now, even as I'm talking to him, he sounds so alone.
I understand him. If I was in his position, waking up drunk and naked without any recollection of the previous night, I think I'd drive myself to insanity. The what ifs and the doubts.
"Close your eyes for me." I say.
"Please don't make it go quiet. If I shut my eyes, I'm gonna think about fucking. Because I'm trying not to think about drinking. And fucking nowadays equals thinking about you against a wal-"
"Ev- no, jesus." My cheeks turn bright red, "I won't be quiet. Just shut your eyes."
"I apologise in advance if my mind objectifies you." He mutters, still muffled against the pillow. I'm gonna choose to ignore that statement all together.
I shut my eyes too, clutching the comforter and take a breath, "Whenever I would hide, my dad would always be the one to find me. He told me that I can't hide away from the world forever so instead, whenever I feel like I need a sanctuary," I remember his voice, "He'd tell me to close your eyes and search for sunshine. People who make you feel like you're bathed in warm light."
He's quiet so I gently continue, "Who feel like daylight and comfort. And for me, safe places were always far. My favourite memories were flea markets in France and ballrooms in Belgium so I'd search for them too."
"Stay warm within the embrace of sunlight." I whisper to him, what my dad used to tell me, "I think we all just need to remember the good and hope it comes again. To keep going. I think you're strong enough, Ev."
He's quiet for just a moment and then he groans slightly. He lifts his head from the pillow and I hear some rustling, as if he's wrapping the comforter around him.
The phone's closer to his ear and so is mine. So when his voice is soft, and a notch above a whisper, it rattles through me, "Violet Fawn."
"Yeah?"
It's quiet. Before his whisper sounds tired and sleepy and sweet and smiley, "Who hid you from me?"
a/n
that last bit might be my fav moment yet.
all my love <3