He climbs over me with agility, like he has done it many times before. He presses his lips to my skin for a few pecks on my abdomen. He gets both of his hands on either side of my head, his lips follow, now kissing my neck, then biting my skin with fervour. It bring me pain, but it gets lost in endorphins. My blood circulates fast in my veins and rushes vividly to my core, my back arching to get more contact between our bodies. I've craved him in the more primal way.
Hot damn!
This might be a mistake, but my body doesn't see it that way. Lord, he is magnificent! He gives his first thrust and I can't help the loud moan coming out of my mouth. Ecstasy runs now in my veins. I've never felt greater than right now. He's with me. He makes love to me.
He dives his kiss on my lips and I submit entirely to him again. He owns me with everything he has without even trying. He doesn't only bring my body back to life, but he brings colour to my soul. It's just because of his penis and how makes me lose my mind everytime we have sex - make love, I mean. It's the way he treats me, the way he looks at me and the way he holds me. I've never felt like I held so much value before.
"Marcel!" I moan to his ear, and feel the smirk on his lips as he straightens over me to look into my eyes, his hand sliding to my neck applying just enough pressure.
Suddenly, I hear a knock at the door and Simon opens the door as I wake up. Feeling lost, and panicked, I open my eyes to find a worried Simon wearing only his briefs.
"What happened? You screamed." He says and tries to come closer to the bed, but I immediately stop him with a hand. He frowns and crosses his arms together. "Were you choking yourself?"
"I was having a nightmare. Everything is fine. You can go back to sleep." I tell him, not knowing what is happening or if this lie is any true at all.
"Don't scare me like that ever again." He points a finger at me accusatively and heads out the room.
I have just the time to add a "sorry" before he closes the door again. I find myself alone in my room in my brother's flat. We've been living together for three months now. It's been fun, but we've never been really open about our intimacy and I would have liked it to have stayed that way, but he's just caught me masturbating in my dreams. I don't think he fully understood, but if he thinks about it enough it will click.
I can't believe I was dreaming about Marcel again. Just when I thought I was making progress and moving on, he comes back into my mind. I don't think the thing is that I am missing him per se, I think my body just has cravings and, well, he's the only one that ever made me know what an orgasm is. And just by the touch of his hands on me he excites me more than anyone else ever did.
Enough talk about Marcel! We are over now. I'm hoping this book tour will make me change my mind from him definitely. It's time to move on and live my life for myself without being a pawn in anyone's game. I spent too much time trying to please everybody, it's time I do things for me.
My job with Shelley Prinston from the Montreal newspaper, I do for myself. I love it. She calls me from time to time for me to cover different events. She sent me to Hyde Park to cover the Rolling Stone show. I brought Sophie with me and we had the time of our life. Since I've met the boys from The SOS and followed them a little on tour, I've fallen in love with going to shows and the energy of the place. I wouldn't know how to live without it now. I was ecstatic when she offered me to do this assignment. I've also been to art galleries and museums to talk about current collections. I went to the National Gallery in London to cover the exposition about Eugene Delacroix, an important Romantic French painter who painted the incredibly wonderful and pognant masterpiece, La Liberté guidant le peuple. It was a pure delight to put my studies to work and to analyse his catalogue specially offered by the National Gallery for a few weeks.
It was fun to go down to London a few times this summer. I crashed at Sophie's place. It brought so many memories of the time I spent with Ashley in there. I miss him from time to time. He kept me updated about their tour and I told him about the amazing experiences I got to do with Sophie. He was definitely jealous of the Rolling Stones backstage passes I had. I didn't have the chance to meet the legendary band, but I was in a special reserved area with other journalists and members of the press. Now, I know that Lucas is taken care of. That it was hard for him to realise he had such an addiction problem, but he's getting the help he needs. Sophie is really helping him through this. She made that clear last spring that she wouldn't go through this again with him, so either he was getting help or she was leaving him. It's such a testament of his love for her and I made her realise that. It's not always easy to see the bright sides when you are living in this difficult situation, but being on the outside looking in, it was evident for me. I admire them all the more for it. They've really gotten closer.
Now that my brother has woken me and that, now being awake, I don't get aroused by the Marcel fantasy I was dreaming about. I don't feel the need to please myself like I was absentmindedly doing while I was blinded by my dream. It felt so real, because it kind of was. The pleasure was real.
I get up and cover my bare body with the first loose shirt I see. I put on some music and decide it's about time I conclude packing my bags for my book tour. I leave for London in a bit and I won't be back for a few weeks. I made a list of everything I needed, but now that the essentiels are packed, I need to pack some extra things.
I put the mood light and happy with the music I sync to the stereo at the other end of the bedroom. I never really listen to the radio, but I think some heartfelt bright pop can match my current state of mind. I feel bubbly and excited for what this new adventure has in store for me.
I got to my wardrobe and look around. I need a little black dress in case I need to dress up for any occasion, a dinner with a colleague or with anybody important. I need so kinky lingerie... just in case I get an occasion to rebound and move on better. I don't think I want to bury myself into another relationship or hide behind casual sex. It's not me... Actually, I need to find myself again. I thought I finally knew who I was when I was with Marcel, but it was a lie, so was the person I was a lie as well? I need this time apart to figure it out. I deserve and owe it to myself. I need to be by myself, treat myself, and bore myself to really know what matters to me and how to deal with the loneliness. Is writing my safe haven? Is it really what I'm meant to be doing? Or was I just lucky this time around? I really need to figure that out. Anyway, my point about lingerie is that I wear it first and foremost to please myself, because I feel the sexiest in it, not because I want to please somebody else. It's all about me, and that's how I want to live my life for a little while.
When I'm done, and when I think it's a decent hour to be OK to bother my brother, I leave my bedroom to prepare something for breakfast. I realise quickly that my brother is already awake again and already in the kitchen. To my biggest surprise, he not only is in the kitchen, but cooking as well. Unsurprisingly though, he is making a mess of the place. So I get in quietly and look at him at work. I take a seat at the stool in front of the kitchen island and wait for him to turn around to see me, but something keeps his attention forward.
"What is happening in here? Am I still dreaming or is this real?" I joke as he finally acknowledges my presence.
"It's your last day here for a while. I thought I'd do something special for my little Gracy." He smirks back in response to my joke by calling me by this nickname I have hated through all of my life.
My brothers never really understood why it bothered me that much that they called me Gracy. For me, with a huge weight complex, I thought it sounded like greasy. A lot of kids at school made fun of me for that exact reason. I don't understand why a child, so pure, can be so vile. I don't get it. Didn't these children have parents to educate on good and bad behaviours? In Steeve's case, his father wasn't the easiest to be with either. He must have learned from the way his father acted with others, or maybe he was on the other end of his father's bullying.
I still can't believe he is gone. I can't believe he is dead. I'm happy he isn't in my life, because he didn't make things easy for me, my family and friends, but never would I have wished for him to die. It's like everything we have shared for almost five years was gone with him just like that. He was a big part of my life whether I liked it or not. He was hard on me and I don't keep great memories of our time together, but if it wasn't for the hell I was sometimes - often - living, I wouldn't have started writing about this fantasy relationship.
"Why thank you, Simon. It's greatly appreciated." I simply respond with a smile and look at him putting extra effort for me.
I don't know what he is cooking, it smells a little too burnt for me to detect any aromas in the air, but whatever it is, I feel blessed to have such a great moment with him before I take off and head for the United States for the first time. I feel equally as excited as I am stressed. I really hope Edith will be there to calm me down and to make me confident about this whole adventure. I don't even know what to expect! This is so not like me.
-
Yet again, Simon has surprised me by driving me down to London himself. I was planning on taking the bus, but his kindness has just saved me maybe two hours of my time, and a lot of trouble with my luggage. I had promised Sophie I would spend the night at her place before living on my book tour.
It is Simon's first time in London since I moved here six months ago. I make sure to make him drive in front of the Wright Books building to show him where I've worked for all these months. To both of our surprise, we see an ad of me and my novel on the front of the building, next to the front doors. I feel immediately self-conscious, but fight it to feel proud. My book is coming out tomorrow in libraries around the UK, and anywhere else that might be interested in it. I would never have thought it would be possible for me. I can't wait until I'm in Manchester and I can celebrate with my family. They haven't really been involved in the process, but I want them to know how hard I've worked. I'm not sure if I want them to read it, because it got a little more explicit than it originally was.
I get a bit anxious about the people that knows me reading my story now... What will they think of it? What will they think of me? I wish I were a little more like Marcel and don't care about anyone else's opinion but mine.
As soon as I realise what I had just told myself, I sit deeper in my seat and regret my thoughts. I meant it, but I shouldn't think about him. It still hurts. Whether or not his feelings were real - which I'm still debating about mentally - mine really were. And instead of dealing with him, like I should have, I pushed him aside to try and forget what had happened. Our relationship wasn't real, wasn't sane and wasn't healthy. I deserve so much than to be played again.
Once Si is parked at the only parking space available near Sophie's flat, a street away, he helps me get my bag out and he carries it to the third floor where we find a very happy Sophie at the door. She's giggly, cute and exactly what I need to soothe a bit of the anxiety winning me over. She immediately greets us with a hug. We haven't seen each other in almost a month. It feels good to be with her again. She understands me, the me I found while moving here. The me that loved and the me that tries the hardest to move on. She has been a great help.
After lunch, Simon leaves us to drive back to Manchester. I thank him and peck his cheek, reminding him we'll see each other in a couple of days. I look at him get to his car and drive away from one of the two windows in the flat. I feel a pit in my stomach.
I didn't think I'd feel like this. I didn't think I'd miss my brother like I do now. We've been living together for three months. I'll miss his banter and his overall presence. I'll miss how he would come home and collapse on the couch after each work day and telling me to whom he'd given speeding tickets. He was on call the night Steeve- ... He wasn't the one that got to his body, but he could hear everything on his radio. He's the one that informed me about his death.
Although Sophie has rearranged the flat to make it trendier and cleaner, when I set up my things in Ash's room, I am happy to find it still left intact. The wall, the smell, it is all still the same, with the exception that his bed is made today. Many great memories were made here, I'm happy to have them to cherish, but I've moved on from that experience. He is now touring back home in Australia, they've released a new amazing song and they've announced a new album by the end of this year or early next year. From time to time I look at the pictures they post on Instagram. Although I've fixed things with Ashley, I'm not sure where I stand with Lucas. The last time we've talked, it was in Edinburgh when he was blaming me for wrecking his relationship with Soph... Thankfully, I'm here only for one night, and I won't have to bother the band anymore...
I feel horribly sad that I won't get to see them as often. We were good friends, and I'll miss our good times together. I think I've involved myself a little too much in their private life. It's up Sophie now to deal with them and their issues. I was so scared that terrible night. Ash got so sick. He was so pale, and lifeless. He was like a ghost, cold, and sweaty. I had never seen him like this before. It completely broke my heart. I really thought something horrible would happen. Sometimes I get scared that the situation might happen again. And then I realise that he's a grown arse man, and he can do as he fucking pleases. I'm not his mum. I'm his friend.
I finish setting up, and join Sophie in the small living room. Last time we talked, she announced me that she had gotten the job as the seventh floor receptionist. I was very happy for her. Now, it seems she has begun her training last week.
"The job is essentially the same, but this time I'll have to work." She laughs and raises her glass of wine to her lips. "I'm acting as a receptionist and an assistant, if I can put it that way. I'm in charge of Edith's appointments. If she tells me that she needs to meet with an author, an agent, the lawyers, or marketing, it's me that plans it for her."
"And you like having more responsibilities?" I ask her, mirroring her with my glass of wine. "Of course! Sure I liked doing nothing of my days, being free to call Lucas whenever I wanted to, I could even sneak my Candy Crush a few times a day. I liked that, but now I have a purpose. I did not study in fancy schools, I haven't got much in life, but now people count on me. Marcel has been very welcoming and he even told me that I could reach out to him if I didn't know how to do certain things. At times, he's been a great help." She informs me with a very important pride in her voice, it inhabits her entire being. I think she's found her calling.
"I'm happy for you. They're really great." I smile back to her, agreeing, living back a bit of the memories we've had from his graduation. It's the last time I've seen them, a bit more than a month ago.
"How are you feeling about tomorrow?" She asks me gently, expressing a lot of care in her approach.
"Good. I can't really fully realise that my book is coming out tomorrow. Everything has happened so fast."
"I told you you would have a great team behind you."
"Yes, and I'm happy I won't have to tour it with Marcel as well."
"What makes you say that?"
"I've asked Edith that if somebody from the office had to come with me, I wanted her to be there with me. Now that Marcel is officially an Editor and not only mine, he can take over for her. Plus, I feel more at ease to drive through the UK with her than Marcel. I'd have nothing to say to him."
"Are you still mad about the whole Kate situation?" She asks me slowly, being careful not to upset me.
"Yes, I am. I know he goes to therapy, and maybe he has changed, but that doesn't undo what he has done. He played me, manipulated me to amuse his lover and to write a story with realist content."
"He really has changed, Grace. I wasn't a fan of him, you know that."
"You don't know the horrible things he has written about me in the first version of his story, Sophie. He said horrible things, hurtful things about me."
"But he's written wonderful things about you in his last version..." She adds, still being careful, and it makes me immediately frown.
"How do you know that?"
"Don't be mad at me... But we've become friends over the summer. I never wanted to tell you because I didn't want to upset you. He came to me before your graduation. He talked to me about it. He wasn't playing you, Grace. He is still into you deeply. Or else he would be over it now, and he isn't."
I don't say anything. My heart aches. I don't know why this pain hurts so bad right now, or where it comes from. This shouldn't hurt me the way it does right now. All I wanted when we were together is for her to like him. It took the despicable things he has done for her and him to talk and get along enough to want to want to become friends.
Marcel and I are over, and I've gotten used to the idea. I had quite forgotten about him until today. I loved him and I gave him everything I had to give. I wasn't enough. It hurt so hard to have been the only one making efforts in this relationship, and it got even more heartbreaking when I learned it was all for nothing. I can't even say what was real about him, and what was orchestrated. And I don't want to know. I want to move on, and move forward.
Despite the fact that we touched a heavy subject, we move on with conversation. She surprises me with a delicious cake she has baked for me. She remembered chocolate is my favourite type of cake and that's how we celebrate my launch together. We bring the cake to the living room, binge watch a show on Netflix and we slowly eat all the cake.
It's with a very full belly and a very happy heart that we finally decide to go to bed. She heads to her and Lucas' room and I sneak back into Ash's. I take a deep breath when I get in and get undressed.
Despite my desire to move on from the men I had in my life, being in Ash's room makes me miss him terribly. I steal a shirt from his closet and wear it as a nightgown. I tear the blanket and slide between the sheets. The feeling of comfort embraces me as quickly as I lay my head on the pillow. The sheets are soft, and cold. I don't remember his sheets being so smooth. I don't remember his bed being so big as well. Ash and I had to squeeze together in order to both fit in his single bed. Now, it feels empty. There's something missing on his side of the bed.
I feel suddenly very lonely. It didn't happen to me in a while, and yet I've never felt it quite as deeply as I do now. Being with Steeve and working and going to uni, I didn't have the luxury to feel lonely. I was always surrounded by people. This summer, I was with Simon, and he occupies all the attention in the room he is in. I didn't get to feel lonely, if I wasn't with him, I was with either my family or Ronnie. I wish Soph could come with me on tour, she's from the company... I want to share that special moment in my life with someone, that's why I insist on having Edith with me. I can learn so much from her, and I'm sure we can have some fun as well.
I write a quick text to Ash, but with no response, I plug my phone and lay on my side to get ready to fall asleep.
-
I definitely didn't have the most relaxed sleep. I spent the entire night either trying to find some sleep desperately or, once asleep, having nightmares that nobody would show up to my signings. I woke up with anxiety this morning and a full sweaty body. I had to take a shower before getting ready to go to Wright Books with Soph. But as I get there, I realise that the biggest nightmare wasn't one I have dreamt of.
I find Edith in his office, a stern look on her face, with Marcel sitting on the chair just in front of her. That's when she says the worst thing I could have imagined.
"Marcel will be accompanying you on your tour."
.