All I'm saying is if you don't love me
no more then,
lie
WARNING: mature themes, mentions of abuse, mental health, panic attacks and EDs.
*italics are the central narrator
commentary*
2019,
two weeks before
the New Rochelle Challenger
ART, tried to always excel in tennis, be perfect; work out sessions, training sessions, eating little but just the vital nutrients, going to his physician, be a good husband, be a good father, be a good man, be the best at tennis; win, always win. But lately it seemed like none of it was enough for Tashi.
After losing another match and his wife making him rewatch his errors, he was physically and mentally exhausted.
She convinced him he needed to get back on his winning strike by competing on the New Rochelle tournament, he amicably accepted with a nod, trying to tune out her rant about their last couple advertisement for a car and how she looked in it, he tune in changing the tv to the local sport channel.
His face immediately paled, as someone's picture from his past came on the screen.
He slowly stood up from the couch, trying to hear what they were saying but a ringing sound in his ears made everything sound like it was muffled around him.
The sport commentators said that it was yet to be confirmed that the artist and retired tennis player, Isadora Raimondo might be making an appearance in next the New Rochelle match... as the coach of one of the competitors, Patrick Zweig.
"Fuck." Tashi exclaimed, standing up and pulling his arm, "Arthur, listen to me. You're gonna win this, there's no other option for us."
"Us?" Art mumbled, a nauseous feeling coming up his throat.
Everything felt blurry around him, like Tashi was talking to him but he could barely understand what she was saying; he was a having a panic attack, truth is it has been so long since he had one, the last one involved his ex lover on the tv screen.
A mean glare crossing on Tashi's face, "Yes, us." She gritted through her teeth, "Now, I need you to calm down. Count to ten or something."
"Mommy?" their daughter asked with a sleepy face, "Is daddy okay?"
"Yes sweetie, your dad is just tired from his game today, let's go read something together." She said threading after their child.
Art slowly sat down on the floor, trying to count until ten, watching his hands trembling, the shiny gold band in his ring finger mocking him in some way; was it all worth it? A raspy woman's voice whispered inside his head. He has been questioning himself about it, for a decade now.
Yeah it was fucked up, that sometimes his voice of conscience, was Isadora's voice.
⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅
2006,
three months
since Patrick and Tashi
have started dating
Patrick, was excited to come back from his tennis season to see his girlfriend and his friend at Stanford. Maybe even visit Isadora, he thought as he admired a poster of both girls in tennis attire with big bold letters, "Duncanator", "The Phoenix"; while Tashi's poster was a profile picture, Isa's was a front portrait with her deep brown eyes and a strong state, racket on her right shoulder, it could almost be an advertisement for a streetwear brand, he wondered why she never opted for being a supermodel.
Art clicked his fingers in front of his face taking him out his thoughts, and gave him a churro, Patrick dragged his bar stool closer to his, smiling at him. The blonde boy turned back observing how his friend was distracted by the posters of the most relevant players of the Stanford women's tennis team.
He bit his churro, and shoved Patrick's shoulder, "Have you talked to her yet?"
"Yeah, earlier, I told her I would come by her dorm later." Patrick replied shoving the sugary pastry to his mouth while smirking.
Art cleared his throat, "I was asking about..."
He wasn't asking about Tashi.
"Oh, I— I have tried calling her, texting her all these months but... I think she has me blocked." He scratched his cheek, awkwardly looking at his friend.
"She will come around, I don't know why she is mad with you, she has avoided the topic with me... I haven't seen her that much to be honest, she's always training or doing some art project for her classes, so we don't share that much, but I do try to go to all her tennis matches, sometimes she comes back to campus with me or his father—"
Patrick gave him a cynical look, "I get it." He didn't need Art to brag about how somehow she was still present in his life but not his. "I don't know why she is mad with me either."
Art shrugged his shoulders.
Maybe the fact that after they fucked three months ago, he almost immediately started dating and fucking Tashi, that may have been the reason, but who knows right?
"So... are you seeing anyone?" Patrick asked.
Art shakes his head, "No, only..."
Patrick nodded, "Isa."
Art nodded, "What about you?"
Patrick sarcastically laughed, "What do you mean? I'm taken. What do you think I'm here for?"
Art shrugged his shoulders, "You're not here to visit me? Or to fix things with Isadora?"
His friend scoffed, "No— I'm here for my girlfriend. Also If I knew Isadora was gonna be this mad with me over something happened three months ago I wouldn't have—"
Art's expression darken, "What happened three months ago?"
"Just nothing dude, I, we had sex okay? She told me about how she was thinking on playing tennis again and after that I..." Patrick's face was putting the puzzle together, "I went on a date with Tashi next day." He grimaced, he was an idiot.
His blond friend stared at him, "You knew about her coming back to tennis... before me?"
"I thought you already knew by then."
"You guys kept this a secret from me?"
Patrick shoved him playfully, "What are you jealous that she confided in me first?" He didn't find anything wrong with it, just a small jab to get back at Art.
"No."
Yes, he was, if there was something Art was insecure of, is feeling like he was threatened by anyone, to be the second in place in anything that was regarding Isadora; her trust, her time, her love, her heart. The issue is that when Art is scared or feels threatened, he retaliates in the worst way possible.
Patrick being Patrick, was not aware of it in that moment.
⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅
Art wasn't used to come and watch Tashi's trainings but today he had an important goal. The brown haired girl watched him with a puzzled expression, and when he asked her to buy her lunch, she accepted.
As they ate lunch in a tense silence, Art noticed the white t-shirt Tashi was wearing, he pointed at it, "Cool shirt." He said.
Tashi nodded, "Yeah I stole it from Patrick." She joked, while playing around with her food.
Art leaned towards her, like he was about to tell a secret, "Yeah? Isadora has a similar one."
Tashi stopped chewing her food to stare at him, "What are you doing?"
"What? I thought you knew."
"Knew?" She emphasized.
"Yes. About how Patrick and Isadora were sleeping before you guys started dating. That shirt, is hers." Art pinched a piece of the white t-shirt.
Tashi slapped his hand away, swallowing hard, grabbing her tray, "Listen this thing you're doing is stupid. You're not good at it."
Art scoffed crossing his arms, "I'm not doing a thing. I just want you to know..."
"Uh huh." She said studying his face.
"I'm surprised that you guys are still seeing each other knowing his story with her and how he already knew about her coming back to tennis and he didn't care inform you," He shrugged his shoulders, "You being the best competitors of our tennis team here on campus."
Tashi grabs her tray and stands up, "Okay. I don't care what weird trio or polyamorous shit you guys have going on. Leave me out of it. Thanks for the lunch." She said giving him a glare and marching away from the table.
"I'm sorry." He shouted at her in the distance, Tashi waving away his apology.
He was not sorry.
⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅
Isadora has been having the most stressful month, between studying for finals, balancing trainings, preparing for the big match of Pepperdine women's tennis, that was in two weeks and trying to get some hours of sleep it felt like her body was taking a toll. The last week she's been feeling nauseous and dizzy, and with a lot of appetite but sadly the diet his father put her on she couldn't eat any carbs, sugar or salt; only protein shakes and liquid.
The best way to distract herself from the hunger, was to try to relax was by painting, this was not a project for her class but for herself.
As she laid down on the floor of her small dorm room, with pink paint on her left eyebrow, she hummed a tune.
A strong knock came on her door, startling her and making her stare at the door.
"Come in."
Rushing in Art came, almost out of breath, closing her door and leaning on it.
Isadora slowly stood up with a concerned expression, "Art...are you okay?"
The boy nodded quickly, his heart feeling like it was gonna burst out of his chest, he suddenly felt dizzy.
Isadora crossed the room, grabbing him by his shoulders, "Hey, breathe. Breathe with me." Taking deep breaths, she held his cheeks with both palms, forcing him to focus on the air leaving her mouth.
She laced his fingers with hers, bringing their joined hands towards her chest, near her heart. "I will count until 10, try to count with me if not out loud, in your mind please."
The blond boy nodded.
"One. Two. Three. Four."
Art focused on the golden specks Isa's brown eyes have and the slow humming of her heart, he was no poet but if someone gave him a pen and paper right in this moment he could probably write a perfect sonnet about her.
"Five. Six. Seven." He folded his body a bit down, leaning down and touching her forehead with his.
"Eight. Nine... Ten." She whispered, her lips almost brushing his lips.
Art brushed away some paint stain on her left eyebrow, softly gazing at her, "How did you know?"
Isa laced her arms around his shoulders, "I used to have them when I was little, after my mom passed away. Then my father took me to therapy." She brushed some of his blond curls, admiring the blue of his eyes.
He stared at her with a loving look, "Thank you."
She nodded, "Are you gonna tell me what's wrong?"
He shakes his head slowly, then proceeded to devour her mouth before she could question him further. He tried to rip her clothes off all at once, leaving her braless, as he knelt before her "Hey... hey calm down, we got time and I want to finish my painting I've been trying to get the perfect shade of pink—" She rambled as he tried to get her off her sweatpants.
"I love you." He whispered so low, that Isadora almost couldn't hear it, but she heard it, looking down at him, mouth agape.
His hands over her panties.
"Wh-what?"
He quickly stood up, his hand under her panties slowly playing with her bud, "I love you." He gave her a breathless kiss, "I love you." She moaned back, he kissed all her face, and pulled her short hair, "I love you." He said. dragging her small body towards the single bed, tracing every single part of her body with his fingertips.
Maybe if he kept saying more I love you's, it will erase the mess he had created an hour ago; sooner than later it will explode in their faces.
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Please like and comment, 🌹
You guys... I gagged myself with that ending. 😧. To me Art is a wolf in sheep's clothing and Patrick is a sheep in wolfs clothing, at least that's the perception I will like for you readers to have... cause, is gonna get MESSY.
This is just the beginning hehe 😉.
I've changed the way or the timing of certain things from the movie, so it helps my plot.
Isadora's mind 24/7:
ALSO, GOOD GOD LIKE— CAN I HAVE THEM BOTH PLEASE:
/Eve