"Owww", Kimberley croaks, as she lifts her head, "my neck is killing!"
Cheryl's eyes flutter open as she takes a moment to realize where she is. "Yeah, I guess that wasn't the best sleeping arrangement."
Despite the uncomfortable nap, a huge smile makes it's way to Cheryl's face. She feels her heart throb as she recalls falling asleep, thinking happy thoughts, and waking up with those same thoughts tracing her mind.
Kimberley giggles as she sits up. "I didn't even mean to fall asleep! Sorry, babe."
She can't believe how refreshed she feels even though she only slept a few hours. She thought she'd be depressed, torn and still crying over Justin. But something about Cheryl's presence really comforted her.
"Don't be sorry," Cheryl replies, with that huge smile still dimpling her face.
She glances at the clock. "Kimba, it's two in the morning! You better get into some pyjamas and get to bed. Big day ahead of you."
"Oh God. I guess I should make the most of the hours I have left to sleep", she says, getting up from the couch and heading for the stairs.
Cheryl gets up, as well, grabbing her keys and coat. Part of her wishes they could have stayed asleep on the couch, but she knew it wouldn't have been wise for Kimberley's sake. She's about to say good night and head for the door but Kimberley's voice stills her.
"Cheryl?"
She turns around to face her best friend standing just before the staircase.
"Hm?"
"Could you...could you stay?" she asks, timidly, shifting her eyes to the floor, "erm...with me? Please."
Cheryl's heart flutters, lighting up her big brown eyes.
"Of course, babe," she says, sweetly, knowing she could never say no to her - not that she'd ever want to.
Kimberley looks up and holds her arms out for a hug, a small, forlorn smile playing on her lips. Cheryl's heart melts at the sight of her sad smile. She doesn't hesitate to set her keys and coat back down and walk over to her. She hugs her best friend securely.
~*~*~*~
Kimberley lays in her bed, staring at the white ceiling, taking note of the different grooves and patterns in an attempt to keep her mind busy. She waits for Cheryl who is still in the bathroom, washing up for bed.
"Cheryl?"
"Just a minute!" she calls back.
Cheryl stares at her reflection in the mirror. The remnants of the day's makeup are completely washed from her face. Her hair is up in a messy bun, minus a few strands that hang down past her temples. She stands clad in a white tank top and pink, silk, pyjama pants - both borrowed from Kimberley. She finds herself slightly nervous all of a sudden. She expected she'd spend the night in the guest room but when Kimberley asked her to stay with her tonight, she really meant with her. They'd be spending the night in Kimberley's king-sized bed. Cheryl is surprised by her slight uneasiness.
Why are you nervous? It's not like you haven't slept in the same bed before. Hell - you've even fooled around before! Given they were nothing but drunken kisses turned into drunken...other things...but still! You've invaded each other's personal space far worse before. There's no reason to be nervous.
She shakes her head free of its thoughts and exits the bathroom. As she walks towards the bed, taking note of the empty space beside Kimberley, she's suddenly reminded of why she's actually here - because Justin isn't and Kimberley needs her. She turns off the bedside lamp and crawls into bed.
Kimberley turns onto her side, facing Cheryl. "Thank you for staying with me," she says, quietly - practically a whisper.
Cheryl's heart stutters. She makes a mental note of how familiar this feeling is becoming. She's quiet for a moment, contemplating whether or not she should turn from her back onto her side to mirror Kimberley, realizing that the sudden intimacy might be too much for her love-struck heart to handle.
"You're always welcome, babe," she simply whispers in reply.
The girls are both silent, save the light hums of calm breathing. Other than that, there's nothing to be heard. As Kimberley's home sits elegantly on top of a hill in her gated neighbourhood, there's no room for invasive sounds to bleed through the windows. There's never an issue with noisy traffic as cars seldom pass through the area. The nearest form of night life plays miles and miles away, leaving more than enough distance for the sounds of thumping bass and drunken socialites to fade. There's no havoc to be wreaked, no mischief to be made.
Cheryl finds herself feeling a comfort in this solitary state, noting the contrast it plays to their usual, hectic and outgoing career lives. She recalls the past ten years, being pop princesses, loving every minute of the fame and the attention and the media, although their relationship with the media was always a hybrid of love and hate. She remembers how out of the five girls, Kimberley always managed to stay unfazed by it all. Recalling her humbleness, her realness, her ability to stay unchanged by the changes around her, Cheryl finds herself admiring the Bradford native even more, wishing she could have followed suit. Maybe she wouldn't have been such a target for the media to turn on. Maybe her relationships would have been stronger, undamaged, untainted. Maybe she wouldn't have been left so wide open for endless shots to be taken. Maybe she wouldn't have had to learn the hard way. However, maybe it was for the best. But now, Cheryl is left thinking about how the media will react when they find out Kimberley and Justin are no longer Kimberley and Justin - if they even find out at all. They don't really know anything about their relationship because Kimberley has done such a mighty fine job preserving it. Cheryl fears that they'll shamelessly come up with a million and one awful things to say, should the news surface eventually. And then Kimberley's hard work, keeping her private life private, would be wasted. Her elegantly secluded home may as well be lifted and dropped right in the heart of London, surrounded by every media outlet, camera lens and prying eye in existence.
Suddenly, feeling fiercely protective of her best friend, Cheryl gently turns on her side to face her, as if she can't stand leaving her out of sight. She sees that Kimberley is still awake, eyes only half shut, not focusing on anything in particular. She wonders what she's thinking about, wonders if she should ask, or just leave her be - leave her to ponder her own heartache for a while. This isn't an interview for ITV after all - she doesn't have to answer questions to satisfy an audience. She's allowed to just be.
It's almost as if Kimberley is reading Cheryl's mind, because after a few more moments of undisturbed silence, she begins to speak.
"He doesn't care", she says, quietly - as if the words might hurt her delicate heart at a higher volume.
Cheryl stirs in her spot, feeling some sort of discomfort as she recalls she's in his spot.
"He doesn't care about anything - just himself," she continues, "everyone thinks we had this perfect relationship - but this was a long time coming. I just tried to keep it unnoticed. Because I hate the attention that could come - I hate what it does."
Cheryl nods, knowing this all too well first-hand. She inches closer, wrapping her arm around Kimberley's waist. Kimberley snuggles in closer, basking in the familiar comfortable embrace.
"I know it's for the best - we couldn't just keep fighting forever. But, it just hurts right now, you know?" she sniffles, unconsciously letting Cheryl know she's starting to let some more tears go.
Cheryl holds her tightly. "Are you sure you can't work it out?" she whispers, silently praying she'll get the answer she wants, however selfish.
"I'm sure-" she says. She hesitates before speaking again. "My audition-"
Cheryl nods. "Mhm."
"Well if it goes well, I might have an opportunity to preform in the Broadway production of Les Mis, not just the West End. I might have the chance to move to New York for six months and live out my dream," she says, with a smile, a light tone in her voice sounding through.
"Oh my God, babe! That is amazing!" Cheryl beams, hugging Kimberley tight with excitement. She does her best to ignore the dab of pain she feels at the thought of six months of distance. But she knows how amazing this opportunity is, so she is thoroughly happy for her no matter what.
Kimberley smiles and giggles but it quickly fades.
"Justin didn't seem to think so. Long story short, he basically said he's done with this life...and that it's time I choose between my career and him. Because there's 'no way in hell' he's going to New York. Then our fight just escalated into something surreal. It's really over this time." Her voice is rife with pain and betrayal. The usual comforting undertones of her husky voice are replaced with those of desolation, humiliation and bitterness. Ten years worth of love and endless support gone to waste because they couldn't be reciprocated for the sake of Kimberley's dreams. This intense hurt is so clearly audible - so present.
Cheryl's eyes begin to water, mimicking those of Kimberley's. She pulls Kimberley into her, pressing their bodies together. Kimberley's sobs breathe freely now in the hollow of Cheryl's shoulder. Cheryl rubs her back, both arms around her tightly, desperate to take at least one ounce of the pain away.
"Well you know what babe, he's a jealous prick. If he can't support your dreams then he doesn't deserve you," she says, fiercely. Her tone of voice turns from enraged back to calm. "Shh, babe, don't cry. You don't need him."
You don't need him.
A few moments later, the familiar silence returns between the two girls. Kimberley has recollected herself and silenced her sobs, however heartache is still slightly etched on her face. Her breathing is almost back to normal when Cheryl pulls her head away, loosening their tight embrace. She takes a long look at Kimberley, holding her eyes with her own.
She's beautiful.
The contact is intense, even through the darkness of the room. She notices that Kimberley's face is edging back to neutral. The frown lines in between her eyebrows are nearly invisible, her reddened eyes are nearing a subtle pink, and her lips are no longer curved downward. And Cheryl's heart softens, feeling a slight relief. As her body relaxes further into bed, there's only one thing on her mind keeping her from sleep.
Those lips.
Her eyes, still locked on Kimberley's, seem to be drawing closer and closer with every second that passes. As if there's some sort of magnetic pull, she can't keep her distance. Kimberley's eyes drop to Cheryl's lips, which doesn't go unnoticed thanks to the subtle moonlight floating through the window.
Is she telling me something?
Now mere centimeters apart, Cheryl feels pressure to do something. Either pull away, or pull through.
Would it be wrong? She's hurt and vulnerable. Or would it be right? Because I can fix it.
Cheryl's hand that rested on Kimberley's middle has now found its way to the small of her back - the same magnetic feeling proving to be relevant through her arms, as well. Kimberley's hand runs up Cheryl's arm and rests at her shoulder.
The tension is much too thick at this point, forcing Cheryl to the edge and past the point of no return.
Pull through.