"I've been looking sad in all the nicest places... I see you around in all these empty faces"
"Ivy, come on!" I hear calling from the entranceway of our house, though I don't move from my position on the edge of my bed. I mean, physically I'm packed for our trip to Mauritius. Celia ensured of that last night when she put all of my things roughly together in a suitcase.
Her footsteps get louder and louder until she's standing there in my doorway, sunglasses on, despite the contrasting weather outside.
"Babe, the driver's waiting. We can't be late."
"I know," I answer taking a deep breath while offering a stiff smile. "I just feel like I'm missing something."
"Trust me," she exclaims. "Coming from the person who packed your case, you have enough to get you by in any climate, for any occasion."
Doesn't she understand that what I'm leaving behind can't simply fit into my suitcase?
"Alright then, let's go shall we?" I suggest, putting on a brave face as I grab my handbag and phone. This was my idea after all, though the motive behind the trip somehow transitioned from being a trip for Celia to take her mind off things, to being about me and my sudden issues.
"I just need to use the bathroom real quick. Meet you in the car?" I offer, as she rolls her eyes dramatically, eager to leave.
When I hear that she's definitely left the house, I head to the bar tray, and take an empty flask. Filling it with some vodka, I hide it away within a pouch in my bag, before I take a quick sip from the bottle.
Better.
As I go to the effort of covering the flask with a headscarf, I can't help but feel as though I'm doing something wrong. I am an adult, and can do as I like, but I don't need any more scrutinisation from Celia about how I should be acting. If I need some alcohol to put me in a better mood, then I should be able to do so.
Running out to the car, Celia hangs her body half out the window, calling out to me.
"Did you lock the front door?" she screams, surely waking up the neighbours.
"Yes," I answer slightly short of breath when I'm a little closer.
"And the-"
"Yes, and the back door too," I interrupt, knowing exactly what she was about to say. "As well as checking the oven, the fireplace, the heating system, and yes, all the windows are closed. Let's get a move on."
Seeming slightly taken aback, she pretends to fan herself from shock.
"I like this Ivory that takes charge. Finally someone is in holiday mode!"
As we drive further and further away from our house, I suddenly realise where it is that we're going when we approach a sign: 'London City Airport'.
Oh Christ, this is going to be a long day.
"Everything alright?" Celia asks, noticing my apparent behavioural shift.
"Fine," I answer abruptly. "Just brooding."
The truth is, I don't wish to tell Celia I've been here before with Harry. That the experience was throughout one of the more happier times in my life on a surprise flight to visit his family for Christmas. I can't help but note the vast differences between each trip, and how dull and colourless everything seems to be without him.
"Come on, get excited!" she enthuses, grabbing hold of my leg, shaking it while squeezing. "We're going to a tropical paradise and are going to have the time of our lives with great friends, food, and hopefully - guys!"
"Wait - friends?" I enquire, but it's too late. Celia is out the door as soon as we've stopped, and walking towards some people on the tarmac. I'm slightly more cautious as I step out the door. It doesn't seem so long ago at all that I was here, though I can't even comprehend how much my life has changed since then.
Up ahead, Celia is in a friendly embrace with a group of girls, and upon closer inspection, it looks to be Lydia, Alice, and Jane. All girls that I've met time and time again at functions and parties, and despite them all being relatively nice, I'm a little disappointed it isn't just the two of us. It's quite difficult to not feel a little out of my comfort zone considering they all know one another much more than I do. Alice, a cousin or second cousin of Celia's, Lydia she met through boarding school, and Jane was someone they picked up along the way. Then me - tired, heartbroken little old me.
"Ivy darling," Jane greets, opening her arm for a hug. "I haven't seen you since Lydia's housewarming. How are you?" she enquires, with an air that doesn't seem as genuine as she probably intended.
"Really great," I smile, kissing her briefly on the cheek. "Very keen to get away!" I reply in the same tone that she addressed me in. "Hello girls," I add, kissing both Alice and Lydia too.
As our bags are loaded onto the plane, I head towards the stairs, but it's Celia that pulls me back.
"We have to check in first you silly thing," she corrects, shaking her head.
"Oh, right," I answer, following her lead to the building.
I guess some rules don't apply to Harry...
Walking into the building, a woman with the whitest smile awaits us at the desk, ready to check us in as we each hand her our passports.
"Now I'll just get you to head through security on your way out, and you're all set to go!"
My passport is handed back to me first, but I wait for Celia to be screened so we can go through together. It's quite peculiar how I wanted some time to myself here on the trip, and yet now I feel as though I need Celia by my side in order to feel somewhat sane.
"Ladies first," she offers, stepping aside as she gets her laptop out of her bag, and into the provided trays. Placing my own bag into a tray, along with my phone, I walk through the scanners, and take a huge sigh of relief when I enter with no issues. I'm sure it's not just me that frets when going through airport security. Even though I know I'm not smuggling anything untoward, it's still a worrying thought to be pulled aside and searched.
"Excuse me miss," a security staff member mutters, ushering me aside. "We just can't allow this to go through as it's a liquid," he informs me as he holds my secret flask in his hands. "You can take this container," he offers, waving the flask around much to my embarrassment, "though we'll have to remove the contents."
"That's fine, keep it" I reply, probably blushing profusely, pretending I don't feel Celia's eyes on me, before scurrying my things together and making a beeline for the jet.
Close on my heels, Celia catches up to me, grabbing my hand for me to stop.
"Was everything okay back there?" she asks, looking ever so concerned for my welfare. This really is the last thing I need right now.
"Celia, I'm fine," I insist, not making an effort to hide my not-so-subtle eye roll. "I just brought it along as a pick-me-up. I don't see why it's this much of an issue, honestly," I add, instantly regretting how defensive I sound.
"If you insist," she smiles in an understanding way as she squeezes my arm in an attempt to be comforting. "But please let me know if you're not. Because it's okay to not be fine. I understand what you're going through."
"Thanks," I answer quite hastily, keen to just get on the plane and go. I don't need to feel pitied, or feel that I need to be babysat while on holiday. I'm doing the best that I can, but why does it seem as though it's not quite good enough for anyone?
One step at a time, I get closer and closer to the plane and pause when I reach the door, the sound of the engines dimming as I lose sense of where I am.
"Don't forget to touch the outside for luck." I remember him telling me as my fingers linger on the outside of the door. For a brief second, I'm there again with him in that moment, and feel the weight off my shoulders ebbing away.
"Ivy, you're holding everyone up. Come on," Celia encourages me, lamentably bringing me back to the present.
"Sorry," I stammer, continuing on.
"You looked like you were in your own world," she comments, offering me a reassuring smile. "I know I pretty much forced you to come today, but are you sure you're up for it?"
Firmly nodding, I take a seat by the window and get settled in while the rest of the girls follow suit. They all chatter mindlessly about their plans for the holiday, and the prospect of meeting hot men by the pool as they sip their cocktails adorned with tropical fruit and mini umbrellas. I can think of a time where the prospect of doing so would have been compelling to me. I want so badly to pretend that all of these things interest me, and despite feeling myself being a gloomy cloud over the excitement bubble, I can't seem to shake the mood that I'm in.
That vodka flask would have come in handy right about now...
"Hello, can I interest you in any refreshments?" the same check in agent now turned flight attendant asks me, and surprised by her sudden presence, I jolt up in my seat.
Talk about great timing.
"Err, sorry," I laugh. "I'd love a red wine," I mumble quite lowly, as though not to draw any unwarranted attention from Celia.
"We have a Merlot or Pinot Noir," she unnecessarily pipes up in a voice much too loud for this small, confined, space.
"Uh, the Pinot please," I answer, shrinking in my seat. "Do you by any chance have any reading material?" I add on. Reading always helps me sleep during a flight, and thinking back, I think I left my book on the table at home.
"I'm afraid we don't have much, but we do have The Sun, OK! Magazine, and Vogue."
Where was her inside voice when she was discussing what wine I wanted?
"The Sun would be lovely, thank you," I smile.
"No!" Celia yells, causing everyone to look at her. "I mean... don't read that rubbish. Here, I have a book for you," she offers, frantically striding over to me with a novel in hand.
"This is much better. You'll love it," she enthuses, passing me the book. "Better than those silly gossip pages."
"If you say so," I laugh, taking it and skimming over the synopsis. "What's it about?"
"I can't remember," she brushes over. "I'm pretty sure it's the one where everyone dies in the end."
Spoiler alert.
"Uh... thank you?"
Celia returns to her seat, but not before she whispers something unintelligible to the flight attendant, and it suddenly becomes clear what she's doing. She's obviously protecting me from a news headline that I'm apparently featured in. Then it hits me. Vic. The photos of Vic and I leaving James Corden's party were presumably published, and she's doing everything in her power to shelter me from reading something about me that could potentially upset me.
She needn't bother.
Suddenly I don't care anymore what's written about me in the media. Nothing matters anymore when your life has gone to shít. I feel as though my brain is only capable of one problem at a time since it happened. The only thought I'm concerned about is playing itself over and over in my head like a painful merry-go-round that I can never just get off. Why? Why did he have to give me up like I meant nothing?
I've been through everything dozens and dozens of times, and nothing adds up. He introduced me to his family. His family. The family that means the world to him, but wanted so badly for them to like me. He spent exorbitant amounts of money on extravagant gifts, one particular gift worth over £40,000. He does indeed have money to spend, though I could tell the meaning behind the gift was something more. He bought it out of sentimentality, not to be ostentatious, but as a gesture to me. Besides all of this, we had plans. Plans for our future, and each of us wanted the same thing. To get married, and eventually have children that we'd raise away from the limelight and the lifestyle that comes with so much negativity. He never even gave that possibility a second thought as he left with tear stained eyes. If I only had an answer... If I just knew why he couldn't look me in the eyes and give me a proper reason. A reason that would give me perspective of why he ended things so abruptly when everything was seemingly perfect. No warning signs, no red flags. Nothing.
"Here's your wine Miss Oakes," the flight attendant surprises me once more, causing me to jump. "Nervous flier?" she enquires, offering me a reassuring smile.
"Yeah," I lie, taking the glass. "I'll be fine once we're up in the air though."
"Ivy's already getting the party started!" Jane screeches, excited at the prospect that I've already started drinking. "I'll take one of those too."
"And me," Lydia chimes in. "I'm ready to get day drunk. Alice will have one too. She's going to need it when she sees her ex. Has anyone noticed how delicious he's been looking lately?"
"Probably the lack of coke," Alice adds, sniggering to herself as the plane begins it's course to the runway. "No, me and Vic are on good terms. I wouldn't turn down a shag though if there's a lack of prospects at our resort."
Wait, what?
My eyes flick straight over to Celia who instantly looks away, suddenly immersed in the flight safety card. Ironic, because she's probably going to need it when I'm done with her.
Fücking hell.
It's quite funny how you think things can't possibly get any worse until they actually do.
"Oh my gosh, can you believe it?" Celia gasps as she moves from room to room. "This place is marvellous. Great choice," she compliments, hugging me.
The room is quite spectacular, I can't deny. The main bedroom is decorated with a certain understated elegance. The soft, dulcet tones splashed throughout the room bring me a sense of peace that I never could have imagined, not to mention the panoramic views of the ocean from the balcony that can be accessed from the alfresco doors.
"You can have this room," she offers. "I'm already feeling quite sea sick just looking out there," she laughs, admiring the view. I know she's lying - Celia loves the ocean. It's quite admirable how she's willing to put me above her own wants and needs in order to at least put a smile back on my face.
"Celia, you're too good for this world," I fuss, squeezing her cheeks to express my deep fondness for her. "Despite the fact that you invited Vic to come along," I address, watching her physical demeanour shrink with my words.
"He found out through Jane!" she insists. "It's okay though, we don't have to spend any time with him. It'll be like he's not even here," she shrugs off casually, though we both know it won't be that simple.
"Sure," I smile reluctantly, hoping I could maintain my sulky demeanour with her, but I can't stay mad at her for long. She's just one of those people for me. "But thanks for forcing me to come. I know in the beginning I was a little... hesitant," I trail off.
"A little?" she scoffs. "Darling, I would do absolutely anything for your happiness. Bribes, blackmailing... murder. You name it."
"Blackmailing," I mutter, barely loud enough for her to hear me. But what she's said has triggered a possibility in my mind that I know I won't be able to shake.
"Sorry what?" she asks, wanting for me to repeat what I'd said.
"Nothing," I say, shaking my head. "Can I just have a minute to unpack?"
"Sure," she smiles, bringing me in for a hug. "I'll be the one down at the pool shamelessly perving on men through my dark shaded sunglasses. You can't miss me."
"Duly noted," I laugh, picturing the humorous scene in my head.
When she leaves, I fall straight back onto my bed, omitting a huge sigh. Something she said resonated with me, though I know at some point I need to move on and forget about him. It feels as though he consumes my each and every thought, and the pain is inside of me, just bubbling away, threatening to spill over onto the surface at any moment until I acknowledge it.
But I don't want to acknowledge it anymore.
Jumping up, I head over to the mini bar, and take out a miniature sized bottle of gin, downing the glass in one go.
There. That's better.
But not completely. Something Celia said. Something about blackmail. Thinking back to the day where my world stopped turning, I think back to the way Harry acted. He didn't want to do it. He didn't want to break up with me as much as I didn't want to be broken up with. He told me he didn't love me, but I didn't believe him.
I still don't.
What if he ended things not because it was something he wanted, but because of someone else. Up until now I never considered there to be another reason for our demise besides the fact he fell out of love with me.
Then it hits me, like a force of lightening, or an oncoming train, or anything else analogically fitting. Her. It was Ebony. The infamous, faceless ex. The one who seemingly called at the most inconvenient of times. The one who wouldn't... or couldn't let us just be happy. She had something to do with this, and I would stake my career on it.
Suddenly I feel awoken and am finally able to acknowledge something that I have dutifully ignored for so long. That someone came between he and I, and had the power to tear us apart. He and I were great, but she was always there lurking in the shadows, ready to cast a gloomy semblance with her textual presence.
I was constantly searching for answers that lied within him, because that's ultimately what it comes down to, and so I ignored any other person to blame. He made the decision to end things, and he's continuing to make this decision each and every day when he continues to pretend that I never existed. He can continue on in his life by shutting me out. He can ignore the fact that I spend each and every night crying myself to sleep in lonely agony. Crying so hard I vomit, and my throat burns from a shortness of breath, and he simply couldn't give a shít. He left my house one night perfectly happy, and when he returned, he wasn't the same man I thought I knew.
It's hard not to accept some form of internal guilt regarding all of this. I mean, I encouraged him to visit her house when she messaged him that she needed to talk. I was the one who practically pushed him out the door to see what it was that she wanted, and he didn't come home that night. I don't want to even consider the possibility that something happened between them that night, but maybe... just maybe she has something over him because there is definitely more to this story that I'm just not privy to.
She was forever the girl who seemingly couldn't let go, and perhaps, didn't. She took what I had, and perhaps tried to make it hers again.
Congratulations. You finally have what you always wanted.
Author's Note: Thank you for reading! It would be so wonderful if you could please vote, comment, and share with friends who you think might enjoy this story! Do you feel bad for Ivory's downwards spiral after the break up, or do you feel differently?
It must be so frustrating to be given the majority of the story, and have Ivory so close to the truth, and yet so far at the same time. If you were in her position would you continue searching for answers, or just give up and move on? I know some people can be critical of her being really broken from the break up, though imagine if that were you. She had no reason to believe that their relationship would end, especially with zero real answers.
This dedication goes to I_Brieverywhere for her comment below about Ebony moving in with Harry would stunt her character progression which I feel was quite interesting to read.
I also want to mention two extremely important people in assisting me with the story where needed. A massive thank you to both MarylandMansion and marissastyless for their help with Ebony & Ivory! They're both writers - marissastyless currently has a story, and MarylandMansion is currently writing a story which has yet to be released, but I've read the first 5 chapters and I can already tell it's going to be HUGE! I really can't thank these girls enough!
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26/06/17 | 1.16M Views |
The lyrical quote at the beginning of the chapter originated from the song 'I Don't Wanna Live Forever' by Taylor Swift & Zayn Malik