Donatella:
Tella.
He called me Tella.
That was his nickname for me when we were younger. Only his. No one else ever called me that.
When he said it, it felt like the sky had opened. I could feel the hope lighting in my chest but I should have known. Should have known it wasn't what I thought. That I was getting ahead of myself.
And I hate myself for it. I told myself that I would put the past behind me. That I wouldn't let it interfere. But I guess I can't.
And, oh my god.
What was that?
He watched me dance?
For how long?
I didn't even notice him coming in.
And when he came over. Backed me up against the mirrors and brought his face so close to mine like... like he was going to...
And the way my heart was beating out of my chest. I can't kid myself into thinking that was only due to him calling me Tella.
My blood was heated and I wanted it. I may have been semi delirious but I wanted it.
But that can't happen, can it?
I mean, we don't even really know each other now. One thing I definitely know about him is that he's a major playboy. He probably only wanted that much. Nothing more.
And I can't blame him for it because he doesn't remember who I am.
But besides that fact, I couldn't fathom it, anyway. Not with how my feelings are all messed up about him.
The pull was there, no doubts about it. But then there was an emotion I'm not used to having. Anger.
It was fleeting. But it was there.
When I realised that he called me that name without knowing the meaning behind it, it was like a switch flipped inside my brain. Frustration and aggravation overtook me and I had to get out of there. Before I did something stupid, like cry.
He'd get confused and I'd be a blubbering mess and become even more inconsolable when I realised that I can't explain it to him because it'll only complicate things that don't need to be complicated.
We were young. It doesn't matter. It's in the past.
I keep chanting these in my head all the way home. Trying my best to engrave them into my brain so that I'll stop having reactions like this. It can't be healthy.
Once home, anh Hoàng helps me out of the car and I hurry straight to my room, shutting the door and leaning back against it.
I don't think I can face him again today after that.
I don't think my heart can take it.
But then again, I don't think I've ever really said no to anyone before.
I guess this is a good day as any.
I take out my phone and pull up out message thread.
Me
I don't think I'll be able to make it today.
I send the text while my pulse skips a beat and close my eyes when hitting the button.
And then despite my resolutions, I feel bad. So I add:
Me
I'm really sorry.
Something just came up.
And you told me to tell you anytime I couldn't come so that's what I'm doing.
I really am sorry.
I'll make up for it, though. I promise.
I send the last text and then turn off my phone, throwing it across the room onto my bed so that I stop rambling.
Okay, so that didn't go as smoothly as I planned. But it was a good first attempt, right??
I hurry to my closet, away from my phone, and pick out a comfy pyjama set. Then, I head to my en-suite and take a shower.
Once I've undergone all of my routines, I finally decide to see if he's responded.
Mustering up the courage, I walk over to my bed and pick up my phone.
Darius:
I was still in a daze when I left the studio. I descended the stairs and ignored Ida's withering glare as I exited the building, making my way to my car.
I mean, what the fuck?
What happened?
I was so close. So close to feeling her lips on mine before she pushed me away.
I felt it. Felt that she wanted it. But then it's like she completely switched.
I'm not sure what went on in that pretty little head of hers but I do know that that is not the last time we'll be in a similar position.
Not particularly that position but I won't be complaining if it is.
Goddamn.
I still can't get over how she danced. She moved like water. I never in my entire existence would've thought that something like a fucking ballet routine would make me feel anything other than boredom but fuck...
I can't say I wasn't completely fucking enthralled.
And I also can't say that I don't think it wasn't wholly because of this one fucking girl.
I keep thinking about what happened all the way home until I'm taken out of my head when my phone pings with a text.
Make that a few texts.
I retrieve it from my pocket and see that it's from her so I open our message chain and start reading.
Oh, hell no.
Are you fucking kidding me?
She wants to back out now?
Now, she musters up the courage?
Me
What came up?
And why did you run out of the studio before?
I wait for a reply but when I don't get one, I get out of the car and walk inside, making my way to my room.
I decide to distract myself from texting her again. First, by working out since I didn't have practice, then taking a shower and watching around half an hour of game tapes before I give in and check my phone again.
Little Ballerina
There was an emergency
Me
Is that answer for my first or second question?
It takes a minute for her response.
Her bubbles pop up and disappear around three times until a full message is sent.
Little Ballerina
Both
Hm.
I sense a lie.
Me
And what about your promise earlier?
About definitely coming to the cafe?
Do you usually break promises?
Little Ballerina
No. Of course not.
I just remembered then because my mom told me about it when I got to the studio.
And I said that I would practice before tending to it.
The bubbles peep up and down again.
Little Ballerina
I'm sorry.
I really mean it.
And I will make up the work.
I chew on my lip for a moment. Contemplating what to say. Then, I let out a sigh and text back.
Me
You don't have to be sorry, sweetheart.
I'm glad you listened to what I said.
I'll see you later.
I press the side button on my phone and throw it onto my bed but as soon as I do, it begins to ring.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I mumble, picking it back up.
I seee that it's a Group FaceTime call and answer it.
"Hey."
"Hey." Luca says.
"What's this about?"
"The next phase. I'll explain more when everyone's here."
"What's up?" Angel greets.
"Ugh, can you get that mule out of the frame?" Luca groans.
"Shut the fuck up." He glares. "She's prettier than you."
To which, Luca scoffs. "Please."
"What's going on?" The soft voice comes from the "mule" Luca mentioned. Which is Angel's girlfriend, Althea. Who, is currently laying on his chest.
"Nothing, baby. Go back to sleep." He kisses her head.
"Wake up and fuck off."
She takes a glance at the screen and squints her eyes before snuggling back into Angel.
"I'm not in the mood to argue with you, Agosti."
"Aw, are you sick? Boo-fucking-hoo. Take a tylenol and go home."
"This is my house." She narrows her eyes at him. "And fuck you. Tylenol doesn't do shit for period cramps."
"Then take an aspirin or something. And fuck you back. Maybe you should just woman up."
"Is that what you're saying to Della?"
"Of course not. I actually like her. And I do whatever I can to relieve her pain. You, on the other hand, don't bother me if you suffer."
She groans and buries her face in Angel's neck. "You're so annoying. Just shut up."
"That's all you got?" He taunts.
"That's enough." Angel says. "Leave her alone."
Luca rolls his eyes but relents. "Fine. But seriously, we need to discuss that very important thing and she can't be here for it."
"I'm well aware of your revenge plot, idiot."
"Idiot?" Luca asks incredulously. "That's the insult you chose? Are you always this dry on your period?"
She shows him a middle finger.
I also catch the small smirk on Angel's lips. "My girl is never dry."
"Hey." She snaps her head up to look at her boyfriend. "What is wrong with you?"
"What?" He asks innocently. "You said orgasms relieve the pain. It worked, didn't it? I gave you like three, earlier. You need another one?"
"Oh my god." She scrambles out of his arms and out of the frame.
"That's what she said." Oakley's voice mutters.
I realise that everyone has appeared and they're all enjoying the show.
"Wait! What did I say?" Angel reaches out and grabs her arm.
"Are you being serious?"
"Of course I am. What-? Oh, about the orgasm thing? Are you still insecure about it? Baby, I told you, I don't care. I don't give a fuck about the blood, gorgeous-"
"Oh my god. Oh my god, just stop. Stop talking, please."
"Okay, okay, fine. I'll stop." He smiles and pulls on her arm, bringing her back into focus. Her hands are covering her face and he guides her into him. "Show me your face."
"No. I'm leaving. I'm getting a snack."
"Alright. Show me your face." He removes her hands and she turns again but he captures her hand.
"Let me go." She pulls but to no avail.
"I want a kiss, then I will."
"Angel." She whines quiet and frustrated. Almost to the point I don't hear it.
"One kiss. Then you can go."
He raises a brow but after a moment, she sighs and leans in to press her mouth to his.
It's fast. A single peck. Then, she's gone and he's staring after her like a lovesick puppy.
"I think we should all collectively vomit before returning to the conversation." Luca suggests.
"I second that." Mads nods.
"Yeah. Me, too." I agree. "I think I already did a little."
"Fuck you." Angel grins, settling back into the bed with his back against the headboard.
Oakley clears his throat, then."Speaking of blood-"
"No." We all snap.