It's not uncommon to feel unable to cope with life's stresses at one time or another. Too many breakdowns are unhealthy, but keeping it all inside until your breaking point is also unhealthy. To avoid wasting precious makeup, I do things according to the latter. I pent it all up inside me until there are those nights—like this one—where I feel comfortable to let it all out, preferably after making a scene because if you know me, I like making things dramatic.
I'm not emo. Yes, maybe I had that grungy Avril Lavigne and Green Day phase at one point but other than that, I'm not negatively emotional. You can't really blame someone if they just decide to cry out of nowhere. Everyone needs a good cry sometimes.
I cried for my messed-up family. I cried for the sins I've committed. I cried for what I've become. I cried for whatever else it is I found worthy of crying about.
I cried until I fell asleep.
I woke up to a knock on the door. I glanced at the digital clock on my silver nightstand—11 pm.
It took me a groggy ten seconds to recall what happened and how I got into my room, on my bed, no shoes, and a towel stained with mascara and lipstick.
Sean, finger, Camillo, restroom, Wyatt, Rhea, Maroon 5, walk-out. Apologies to Maroon 5 for somehow ending up in the mix.
I gingerly padded cross my room and stopped in front of the locked door, turning it open.
"Nikolas?" my voice was raspy and my throat hurt, "I thought you'd be home by now."
He cleared his throat. His large hands were deep in his pockets and as he stood in the dim hallway illuminated by a lone window at the end of the hall, he looked magnificent, "Since your brother said you were comfortable enough to tell your problems to me, he thought I should check up on you."
"No," I closed the door in his face.
"Rose, please," his voice was muffled by the door.
"I said no," I crossed my arms in front of my chest and paced back and forth in my room.
"Rosaleen—" "Will you let me suck your dick?"
"No"
"Then go away"
"I know you acted the way you did because of me," he sighed defeatedly, "And should I apologize? I don't know, but I'm gonna do it anyway."
He was as shitty at apologies as I was. I fell back on my bed and there was silence.
"Rosaleen?"
"Keep talking," I half-yelled.
"You really should stop whatever it is you're doing and..." he sighed again, "Sorry for adding fire to the flame. Your brother loves you, Rose."
I sat and he continued talking, "I don't know much about your situation at home but it doesn't look pretty," I heard a slide followed by a thump. I assume he sat on the floor, "So if you wanna talk about it with me, then here I am—given that you don't try to rip my clothes off. My wife wouldn't appreciate that, thank you very much."
"Where's Sean?" I muttered.
"He went upstairs twice but said that your door's locked," I walked to the door, "He assumed that you were sleeping and said that maybe it's for the best. He promised to check up on you tomorrow."
I sat on the floor, my back against the wooden door. I felt like pouring it all out to Camillo. If there's anyone who I want to tell my past about—excluding my friends, it would be him. He might see it as an explanation for why I am the way I am. In need of a listener, I started.
"My mom caught my dad in bed with another woman. She let is slide, but then it happen two more times," I laughed, "Three different females. All redheads, all working for him in the office."
I played with my fingers, wanting to put my attention to something physical instead of my emotions, "They fought that night. My dad never hit mom despite her throwing him whatever she can get her hands on. They didn't split but their relationship turned cold. The turning point, as Wyatt and I called it. Everything changed. They didn't argue anymore and dad brought as many girls home as he could, given that mom wasn't around and I accidentally just caught him sneaking them in and out. It's like they weren't even trying to resolve things."
"It didn't take long for mom to get involved with other men too. Dad's colleagues and wealthy business partners. She started coming home with tons and tons of shopping bags which were not bought with dad's money. She went on vacations and didn't bother taking us. She was rarely home and when she was in town, she'd be out all day, attending events. Dad, on the other hand, was busy with his own affiliations and making his business grow. They were both living the time of their lives without each other and without Wyatt and I."
"When Wyatt was legal and stable enough, he took me under his wing. Thank fuck it didn't take him too long because I was forced to stay with my mom's very religious cousin who used to cover me up when I wore tank tops—as if me in a tank top would cause havoc in the world."
"And here we are now—neglected, but okay with it. I don't need my parents to redeem theirselves. I don't want them to. All I ask is for them to stay away because I'm doing just fine without them. And... I guess that's why I don't believe in loyalty, Nikolas."
There was silence. Comfortable silence which meant that he was processing what I just told him. I stood up and pulled the door open. Nick sat on the floor, his back against a wall and his blazer off. He stood up and I stepped aside to let him in. He shook his head.
I smiled sadly, "Thanks for listening. You should switch to Guidance Counsellor."
"Ha-ha," he rolled his sleeves up, "You're welcome, Rosaleen."
We stared at each other again, tension still thick.
"I won't stop, you know," I brought my gaze to my feet, "I still want you."
"I know," he let out a shaky breath, "I'll just need to endure it for four more months."
"You really won't give me a chance? You know I don't believe that, right?"
"I love my wife, Rose," he shuffled on his feet, "I won't give in for a hook-up that'll put my occupation and marriage in jeopardy. Someday..." he patted my shoulder, making me meet his eyes once again, "You'll find someone who you'll wanna be completely faithful to. Who you'll love so much that you won't even think of anyone else," he smiled genuinely, "You're young. You have a lot ahead of you."
"Bianca's not that someone for you, is she? You touched me and I'm pretty sure that's not in the Faithful Husbands 101 handbook."
"Goodnight, Rosaleen," he turned, "See you on Monday."
After that, I cried again in my room. Eventually, I fell asleep again only to wake up with a grumbling stomach. I padded downstairs, sure that everyone else was asleep, then grabbed some leftover dessert in the fridge.
I caught a glimpse of myself on a glass door. My hair and dress were disheveled, my mascara was runny and had dried on my cheeks, and my lips were dry. And for some reason, my neck hurt like shit.
I stared off in the distance. Since I've already cried about it, I was kinda feeling that I had overreacted. Dinner could have gone a lot more smoothly if I had checked myself enough. I shivered and realized that I left my robe or even blanket.
I may not have appreciated the macaroons much during dinner but I did as I sat on the steps leading to the pool, fitting as much as I could in my mouth. I would never eat like this in front of anyone, even if it was Aiden's cooking. Good thing no one was—
"Rose?"
"Hmngh?"
Jared stood to my side. I was too engrossed in the food to realize he had appeared. The water cast fluid and glowing reflections on his face. He had a bonnet again covering his head. His getup was much more comfortable than mine which I suddenly envied; sweatpants, a big shirt, socks and slides.
It took him a few seconds to register my state.
"Damn," he said.
I glared at Jared. "What?" I spat and I swear some bits of food came out.
He looked at me weirdly and seemed on the verge of laughing.
"I'm going back in," I stated, getting to my bare feet and heading for the door.
Jared stopped me with a grip to my arm. He pulled away immediately, laughing now.
"Come on, kid," he quipped, "It's fine. I've seen worse."
"What do you mean worse?" I glared.
He laughed to himself before he spoke, "I've watched Shrek."
I headed for the door again. Jared stopped me, again.
"No, seriously," his laughter had died. The man walked to the steps and sat, "You look like you need company."
"Really? this isn't in your job description, I think," I sat beside him and ate the last of my macaroons.
"It's not," he commented, "But it's beyond work hours anyway. Think of it as charity work."
My jaw dropped. Beyond Work Hours Jared was brute.
"You keep doing that," he said.
"Doing what?"
"You always roll your eyes," he tried to mimic me and it didn't suit him.
"Let's say it's a coping mechanism," I put.
"A Rosaleen mechanism," he added.
We were quiet, both watching the water move. It was beautiful—mesmerizing. The lights changing colors was a nice touch too.
"You wanna tell me why you're out here murdering macaroons and looking like Shrek?"
"Just some mom trouble," I began, "I wasn't completely lying when I said it's bumpy between my mother and I. You've probably noticed; she's not much of a mom to me and Wyatt. Growing up, I wanted her to be but now it's too late. I just want her to stay away like always."
He was quiet. The mood turned somber. "I'm sorry," he told me.
"Why?" I snorted, "It's fine, I don't want pity."
"No, Rose. I'm sorry."
I was starting to get confused. Jared did look sorry. Nervous even. But for what?
"Well, when you said you wanted to reunite with your mother, I..."
It dawned onto me. Fuck. I got to my feet. This was all Jared's fault. We could've remained peaceful here but no, someone just had to stick their hands into family business.
"Rosaleen," he began, getting up to follow me.
"Rose," he said again, more quiet this time as I padded through the living area.
"Don't fucking talk to me," I said. I was angry and disappointed, even sad. The whole thing was unnecessary.
"Rose, I'm sorry," I heard him even as I walked up the stairs. I locked the door behind me and just like that, I was down again, but this time with a tinge of anger.
-
"You got yourself in a sticky situation, Blossom," Viktor downed his martini in one gulp as if it were a shot of tequila.
"I need to get Nick out of my system. Jared, Nick, Mom," I massaged my temples. The padded walls of our booth lessened the loudness of the music outside, but did nothing to stop the thump of the speakers.
"Ten bucks he doesn't give in," said Dani.
"Ten bucks he does," Viktor chuckled and clunk glasses with Dani. I've only had two bottles of boring, plain beer.
"What do I do?" I groaned, ignoring their chatter of random things.
"You know what Dory says," Dani slurred, "Just keep swimming. And you should forgive the hot driver, he had good intentions."
"Gosh, I need to get laid."
"Lucky for you, Rosy-girl," Viktor slung an arm around my shoulders, his weight bringing me down, "There are many dicks to choose from right outside this—" he pulled the curtain open, "Curtain. Ah! See?"
I snorted, grabbing a shot and bringing it to my lips and into my system, "You know what? You're right, Viky-boo. Let's go hunting!" I pulled Viktor to the dance floor, hearing Dani's high-pitched protest in the background.
"You better move away or else they'll think I have a boyfriend," I teased.
"Blossom, look at me," he turned me to face him, "Do I look straight to you?" I eyed his glittery silver choker and glittery yellow eyeshadow. Viktor rarely dresses up feminine, but when he does, he gives his all.
It wasn't long before Viktor was pushed away from me. It wasn't long until I saw him again with another man's tongue shoved down into mouth. Giggling, I headed to the bar.
"Tequila. Give me the whole bottle."
He reached down and produced a bottle of grapefruit tequila, "Thanks," I downed the bottle. The heat of the liquor stung my throat in a way that would've made me puke if it was my first time drinking. I've learned to love the buzz of the familiar alcoholic substance.
I walked back to our booth, bottle in hand. Dani was lip-locked with a man beneath her. My friend was straddling the said man, his hands trailing down her back.
"
Oh, sorry," I said as I backed away and shut the curtains.
"Hello there," I felt arms circle my waist. I drank some more and turned around to come face-to-face with a Mr. Handsome, probably 8/10.
"Didn't your mom tell you that it's rude to sneak up on strangers," I spoke as I squirmed against him. I came for a nice time and here it is in front of me—in the form of a male with platinum-blonde hair and pretty green eyes. There was a tattoo at the side of his neck and he was wearing all black, "What's your name?"
"Alex," he leaned down and tipped my chin up, brushing our noses together.
"You?"
"Rose," was my last word before my fingers grasped his soft, blonde hair and brought his lips to mine. I could tell that Alex had been drinking all night. His lips tasted like sweet alcohol as I sucked, drawing a groan from him. In less that thirty seconds, we had barged into the ladies restroom. There was a gasp and I heard two women talking about having no manners. They exited the room and I gladly locked it behind them.
Alex's body held mine up against the door, his hands gripping my thighs to wrap my legs around his waist. I circled my arms around his neck and he brought us to the sink where he laid me on the surface. He fumbled hid back pocket for a condom, holding the ultra-thin contraceptive against the light.
"I'm clean," he kissed me, "In case you were wondering."
"Me too," I unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. Unbuttoning men's jeans in one attempt has become a skill of mine. I was about to pull his boxers down to reveal Alex Jr. when there was a furious knocking on the door.
"Alex!" yelled a high-pitched female voice as the banging intensified, "Talk to me, damnit!"
"Ignore her," he breathed out before pulling his underwear down himself and rolling the rubber on.
"Alex, I swear to God, if you don't open this door, I'm coming home with Max," she yelled.
Alex ignored her completely, spreading my legs and pushing my panties to the side. He rubbed the tip of Alex Jr. against me.
"Aleeex!"
"Are you sure you don't wanna get that?" I breathed out, the madwoman outside putting me off.
"Don't worry about her, Rose. Jealous ex-girlfriend," he muttered as he kissed me.
"Alex, open the fucking door!"
"Fuck," Alex muttered as he spread my wetness all over his. The girl outside kept calling Alex names that would've put his mother to shame.
"Are you sure you don't want to get that?" I asked again, now completely turned-off by his crazy ex, "She's kinda ruining the mood."
I sighed and put my hands on his chest to stop him. I fixed my dress and underwear. I ignored Alex's protests and went for the door. I unlocked it to see a girl around my age, fist in the air, ready for another round of unsolicited knocking.
"Ale—"
"Excuse me," I walked away as a loud argument took place. I even heard a slap.
I fished for the phone in my pocket, "Hello? Wyatt? Can you pick me up?"
-
I've been binge-watching Pretty Little Liars all day. An empty box of New York style pizza laid on my carpeted floors and beside that was an empty six-pack of beer. In an oversized sweater, I laid on my bed comparing Mr. Camillo to Ezra Fitz.
Why can't he be as easy as Ezra? Damn it.
I thought about how I opened up to him last night. Does that change anything? Am I establishing an emotional bond with the man?
Yuck, what has gotten into me?
The other half of my brain, however, was stuck on Mr. Jared Cohen who had revealed himself as the reason why my mother visited in the first place. Dani was right: his intentions were pure, but the trouble it caused me could not balance it out.
I woke up at one o'clock in the afternoon which was ridiculous even for me who hated getting up. I went down for some late lunch and stumbled upon Wyatt who so gladly informed me that mother left unexpectedly. With that woman out of the house again—finally, I can spend time around the mansion without the worry of bumping into an entity who I'm not so thrilled interacting with.
I'll forgive her someday but not now and not soon. Maybe in my midlife crisis when I'm desperate for change. Who knows?
I did not see Jared and I didn't bother asking anyone about him. I spent my day at the outdoor pool. I gained lots of color after a few hours under the sun.
I went to my room after and I planned on not leaving it until school. I called Sean and told him to come over but he said that he had to go to his grandmother's house three cities away. He did, however, talk with me over the phone about my emotional episode and I assured him that I'm fine. Nothing binge watching Tom Hardy couldn't fix.
I stayed indoors until I could rule that I was emotionally back on track. I'm horny. It was dick or death.
The restroom with Alex was lousy. Obviously, it didn't get me off. I already tried touching myself thrice today, but I just could not function. It's as if Mr. Camillo had ruined me even for myself.
I let myself get aroused with the thought of him. If I tempted him enough, would he have taken me then? On the sink? In the powder room of our mansion with my family and fuck-buddy just outside the door?
If that's a yes, then I need to step my game up. He must have a breaking point. I slipped my fingers into my underwear again and toyed with myself, casually trying to get off.
I didn't. I just couldn't.
I needed Nikolas and I needed him quick.
-
Goldenlux's student week officially starts on Tuesday, Monday being preparation day and since I signed up to be an organizer, I had to be there early with a shit-load of energy.
Jared drove me to school but we weren't on speaking terms. He tried to apologize again when we got to school but I pretended not to hear. Clothed in light-washed jeans, a bandeau, and a brown leather jacket, I grabbed my bag, my keys, and some coffee. I'm not a coffee girl, but I needed extra buzz for errands and for trying to get Nikolas to finally put his cucumber through my donut hole.
I went to school extra early. If I become exceptionally good today, my favorite principal might just reward me, no? I went into the gymnasium.
"Rose!" a female voice called from behind me. My face fell. I didn't need to turn around to know that it's none other than the ever-so-cheerful Bianca Camillo.
"Bianca," I feigned my delight. She pulled me into a hug. I hated it. Why is there, everyday, at least one single person to hate?
"I had no plans for today so I figured I'd help," she pulled away.
The thirty-one year-old woman wore a pale blue jumper tucked in mom jeans along with sneakers. I hate to admit it, but it suited her youthful soul and her youthful face.
"The more the merrier. Did you come with Mr. Camillo?"
"No, he left at five," she frowned, "It's too early but he said he needed some alone time," something flashed behind her eyes. Something not-so-cheerful beyond her facade.
The gymnasium had booths in a ring around it. There were flyers, posters, flags, markers, and paint on the floors where students and teachers worked. I spotted Nikolas immediately. He had his back to us, a hammer in hand as he nailed a banner to a stand. He wiped his sweat with his forearm and stepped away to assess his work.
We walked towards him. His outfit was a contrast to his usual formal looks. He was wearing black jeans, sneakers, a gray shirt, and an olive green windbreaker.
"Love, look who I found," Nikolas turned with a smile for Bianca but it faltered once he laid his eyes on me.
He pulled her to his side, an arm around her shoulders, "Morning, Ms. Martin."
"Good morning, sir. Anything I can help you with?"
Monotone, he answered, "None here. Why don't you help Quincy with cutting out flyers?"
"Sure," I nodded and walked away.
Five minutes later, I found myself with scissors in hand and a pile of uncut flyers in front of me.
"That's his wife, right? I saw you walk in with her. Are you besties with the competition?" Aiden joked.
"She's a nice woman. Probably has wack pussy, but still nice," I laid a cut sheet on top of another, "I didn't expect her to come. Did you? No one did."
"Why?" Aiden crossed his arms, "Were you planning something?"
"I'm always up to something, dear," I put the scissors down, "Did you know that Camillo had dinner at my place last Friday? Sean was there too."
Aiden chuckled and shook his head, "How did you make that happen?"
"It wasn't me this time. It was my mom. It's a long story. Anyway, he ended up doing things to me in the bathroom and I haven't been the same since."
"Things?" he looked like a kid being told that Santa eats his elves.
"Things," I repeated.
He eyed the married couple, "Gosh, Rose..." Aiden scratched the back of his head as a look of guilt took over his features.
Here it goes.
"Are you sure you with, you know," sighing, "This?"
"Please don't lecture me about morals," I yawned, "You and I both know I'm going to hell regardless," I turned away.
"Aiden, go grab some more gold paint," said Quincy. Aiden left, leaving me with scissors and a butt-load of Horror Booth flyers to cut.
"Need some help with that?" Looking up, I saw Bianca with a tight smile plastered on her glowing face.
"Sure," I handed her a pair of scissors as she sat down. We started cutting in silence. If she were a different person, I'd mind my business, but since she's what's keeping Camillo's dick outside of me, I couldn't help but stay aware of her presence. After a quiet minute, I glanced at her. Bianca was frowning and it didn't suit her youthful face.
"What do you think of the fair?"
Her response was delayed, "Sorry, what?"
"I asked you what you think of the school fair," I beamed at her.
"We're making good progress," she nodded, "It's gonna be great."
There was silence again with Mrs. Camillo zoning out. I minded my own business until the deafening quietness bothered me.
"Are you okay, Bianca?"
"Just peachy," she sighed and laid the materials on the floor, her eyes flying to Camillo who was instructing students in one corner. Did my favorite couple fight?
"Why? What happened with Mr. Camillo?" my eyes went from her to him, then back.
Bianca smiled shyly, "It's no big deal," but her expression said otherwise, "Just a silly little argument. I thought coming here would give me a chance to resolve things, but Nick isn't the type to let go of negativity so easily."
"Wanna talk about it? I could use a break," I smiled and offered my hand.
Bianca looked hesitant, but after looking around, she put her hand in mine and stood, "Why not?"
The cafeteria was open, accommodating students who also needed breaks or coffee and bacon to start the day. I got us coffee and sat somewhere in the middle of the room, "Thanks" said Bianca as she smelled the drink's strong aroma.
"So, what happened?" I cupped the small cup with both of my hands, appreciating the warmth that shot through my palms. Bringing the cup to my lips, I drank.
"I want a baby."
I coughed. Loudly.
"I want to start a family with Nick. I think it's the perfect time but he says we need to wait. Wait for what? He has a stable job, I have a stable job, we're both in our early thirties, and our house can accommodate two adults and children," she sighed and put her cup down.
Laughing, she said, "I'm sorry, you probably don't want to hear this since Nick is your school principal and all, but—"
"It's fine, Bianca. I like to think that we're past that," I offered a reassuring smile that got her shoulders to droop. Her husband and I were way past that. Way past.
There was silence as she composed her next lines, "Last Friday—the night he ate dinner at your place, I prepared a surprise for him, if you know what I mean," she smiled slyly and I pretended to smile even though I felt like puking, "And when he got home he just..."
Sadness clouded her pretty face and it amazed me how quick she's able to change expressions, "He rejected me. I've been talking him into starting a family for months now and all he says is that he wants to wait. I just need affirmation that he's sure of me and that a family is in his plans because I haven't gotten that lately."
I grabbed her hands and looked her in the eye.
"I'm not too close with Mr. Camillo, but as a principal, I can see that he's a man who has his priorities straight," because if he didn't, then we would've fucked weeks ago, "If he wants to wait, I'd trust him. You might be ready for a child but maybe he isn't, and he doesn't want to end up with a responsibility that he can't handle. How long have you been married?"
"I don't think that matters," a guarded expression overtook her features so I let it drop. I already knew the answer anyway. More or less than a year only.
"I'm not saying that you're in the wrong here, but I'm not saying that he is either. A baby is a big step and I think that you should weigh the situation like how he does."
She laughed after a while, "This is weird. I'm getting lectured by a teenager and she's making a lot of sense. I've thought about everything you just told me, but I guess I had to hear it from someone else."
"You good now? Is that all?" Please.
"Yeah, that's all," she rubbed her eyes, "I just took things lightly and took the rejection heavily. It doesn't mean anything, right? Other than him not being ready."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
She paused before shrugging it off, "Never mind. It's nothing."
"We should get back," I stood, "Don't want the board thinking that I'm slacking off," I laughed and Mrs. Camillo followed me out.
As I painted a banner with Quincy, my mind went back to my time with Nikolas in the powder room.
"I'll go home and fuck my wife with you knowing that it could've been you, but I would have never let you," but as it turns out, he didn't.
Knowing that Bianca and Nikolas were having problems added favor to my table. Could it be that Bianca's trying to lock Camillo down with a baby because she's afraid that she might lose him since they rushed into their marriage?
It changes the game. It changes the game a whole lot.