I wake up with sticky eyes. I toss and turn in the bed, letting the sun filter in through the curtains. Then I run to the bathroom and spew a few times. Ugh. Disgusting.
I've never been one to get sick from stress. I've always been a stressed person – my whole life there's always been something or someone to fear. Growing up, it was peaceful. Then my parents died. I moved in with my grandparents. My grandmother was a quiet woman. Never spoke too loudly. Always wore the same conservative dresses in different colours. Wore her hair in a low bun. Always.
She moved swiftly, like a stealthy ninja. But she was weak.
My grandfather's hair was black – a thick black with silver threads. We often got pulled over at the shops by star stuck strangers for autographs. He gave them his charming smile. He always wore black tinted sunglasses and a black or grey coat.
He scared me.
Then I returned to Cedar Creek to live with my Aunt and Uncle. I wasn't sure if they would accept me when I randomly showed up on their doorstep. I felt like the bravest person alive to runaway and sneak off without getting caught – to actually reach the destination.
Auntie and Uncle accepted me without hesitation. I will always be grateful for them. Part of me thinks that they knew.
Then I feared myself, got carried away with my art teacher. Then after that, I feared losing my friends to my scandal with Sylv. That fear continues, as does my fear that all the guilt I feel will never go away. I don't fear death. Not my own death.
My phone buzzing at my ear pulls me from my thoughts. I reluctantly turn on my side and drag it to my ear. "I feel sick, go without me-" I begin, thinking that it's Auntie Helen or Uncle Pete.
"Rose?" It's Adrian's soft voice. "Are you sick?"
"Yes," I sigh, "I feel sh*t. I don't want to talk about it."
"What happened?" he ignores me.
"I confronted Sylv. He didn't know she was pregnant. And even worse – they never had sex which means she cheated on him. And worse again, he was so offended that I didn't trust him – and then he started accusing me and I couldn't think of anything to defend myself and now he probably hates me even more than before and I can't stop crying and vomiting." I can't believe I just told Adrian I've been sick. That's so gross - I'm so embarrassed. I take a deep breath.
"Rose..." he says slowly, "do you need me to come pick you up?"
I pause for a moment. Yes. I do. Come whisk me away. Please. "I'll survive."
"Did you apologise to him?"
"Yes. But my efforts were futile. A flimsy word isn't going to make up for the sh*t I pulled. F*ck, I hate myself."
"I'm coming to get you," he says, quickly - worried. Like he thinks I'm going to do something stupid again.
"Iris. Chill out. Honestly, I'll be ok." My phone buzzes against my ear and I check it quickly. It's Auntie Helen, suggesting a girls day with Kath and the both of us. We'll get our nails done. Meet in the lobby in half an hour. "Adrian, wanna hear some good news for once?"
"I didn't think you were capable of bearing good news," he says, less on edge.
"My Auntie is pregnant." I roll over onto my back and sit up, a small amount of energy seeping into me. "I think it's going to be a girl."
"You must be thrilled," he says and I imagine a smile creeping onto his face.
"They're going to be great parents." I bite my lip. They'll be great parents. I can be their rough draft. Maybe they'll have twins.
"Soon I have a meeting with my producer, Marco. He'd love to meet you," he enthuses.
"I'm sure he'd love to meet the talentless student giving you free tours," I say sarcastically. "Anyways, I better get going, Adrian Iris." I don't know why I say his full name. It feels strange but sounds nice.
"If you change your mind, I'll pick you up. Anytime."
"You know it's like – a plane trip – right?"
"You mean a private jet trip?"
"Shut up!" I say, "no way?!" he can't seriously have a private jet.
"Goodbye, Rose Chosen."
Of course he leaves me on edge. I bite my lip.
There's a knock at my door. "Coming!" I call – running into the bathroom to brush my teeth. My hair is a knotted mess. Where tears fell, some strands have curled. The rest is still straight from the last time I straightened it. My eyes are red. I look pale and sickly. The sight makes me want to cry more.
I shake it off and open the door.
It's Sylv. He looks about ten years older and as red eyed as I do. Has he been crying? Or did he just not sleep?
Tears prick my eyes again. What have I done?
I watch his chest rise and expand slowly, then deflate just as slow. I swallow. "Hey," I say.
"Hey," he says, voice so husky that it breaks me. Imagining him crying makes me want to cry so much more. "Helen told me to wake you. She says you haven't answered her messages."
"Ok," I say. Then out of nowhere, I reach forward and hug him. I close my eyes and bury my face into his chest. His arms wrap around me, so tightly I think I might break. A shaky sigh escapes him.
Then we let go and he walks back into his room and slams the door.
.
.
.
I've never had false nails before. I focus on the lady in front of me, delicately and intricately layering a thick paste onto my nail beds. I block out every other thought in my head. I'm so exhausted that for once, it works. I put every bit of mental energy I have into watching the lady.
Kath and Auntie Helen sit either side of me and talk through me. At one point, Auntie Helen turns to me and says, "you look unwell, honey. Should I take you to the doctor? You might have another sinus infection – you're voice is rough."
"I'll go to the doctor when I go back to Cedar. I'm alright, though. Thanks," I say as clearly as possible.
"Sylv's been very sad lately, ever since you got that new boyfriend," Kath says matter-of-factly.
I turn to her. "Boyfriend?"
"He's told me all about that rich man who's living at the Manor."
"He's not my boyfriend," I scrunch up my face. "He's my boss. I'm working with him."
Auntie Helen nods, "must just be a misunderstanding, Kathy."
"Either way, Sylv has told me he gets 'bad vibes'."
I almost laugh. Sylv and his stepmother have always been really close. She treats him like more than just a son – like a friend too.
"I think he's jealous," she finishes.
My eyes widen. "There's nothing to be jealous of."
"I think it's because you don't come over much anymore, you spend so much time working as you say."
Sylv's jealous of Adrian?
"What colour are you getting?" Kath changes the topic so quickly it gives me whiplash. She's a bit like that, always bouncing across conversations. As whimsical as a butterfly.
"I think I'll get nude to white ombre," I say, imagining a picture from Pinterest. It will match my formal dress – if I even end up going. Can I even ask Sylv now? After everything that's happened...
I get lost in the painting process, mesmerised by the way the lady in front of me perfectly covers up my nails.