Chapter Ten: Welcome to the Seat
"don't mean to come off cold,
I don't want to be alone,"
- ruel
┉
M O N I C A
I flinched when the ice dispenser rattled, just before it released over five ice cubes in the same second.
Too tired to function, my feet stumbled over each other as I twisted around to the counter, pouring milk into the glass that I'd just filled with ice. It wasn't long before my iced coffee was done and I sat on the counter, sipping it soundly.
Slowly, it felt like my eyes widened naturally as I grew more alert than I was before. I eyed the tall glass with admiration. "Heaven," I mumbled, grateful for the coffee, like any sane person.
I'd woken up today at ten, but I couldn't go back to sleep. It took me thirty minutes to get out of bed and brush my teeth before I could finally make myself the addicting drink. I made it with ease, since Chris was likely at work by now, and mom was probably in her bedroom, avoiding me.
Since Monday, I hadn't seen her around on the first and only floor. With it being Wednesday now, I found myself breathing with ease.
The thought of Monday, however, got me thinking back to what Liam said before a group of half a dozen teens walked toward Mel's diner, stopping him from speaking. In the moment, I hadn't been too frustrated since the word wife kept on being repeated in my mind.
Since then, though, I'd given a lot of thought to his confession.
Wife. Liam was married. And she died.
I didn't know what to think, nor did I know what to say to him now. How does one heal after losing someone who was theirs? I never thought how mom took it when dad died, since I'd only been twelve. She moved from alcohol to drugs, but Liam... he seemed completely distant to all people, at least, he used to.
Liam has been broken for so long. Anastasia's words rung in the back of my mind just as I heard a sound, snapping me from my thoughts. When I looked up from my glass—which happened to be empty now—I noticed that mom stepped into the kitchen with her robe on, staring at me hesitantly.
Not saying anything, I jumped off the counter and was about to step passed the entry way when I heard her inhale quickly. "I have a job interview," she rushed out and I froze, my back facing her while it straightened.
"Congratulations," I drawled out, making sure I kept my tone light. "Hope the interview doesn't end with you coming home and snorting a line."
"Monica," she pleaded. "Please, I'm trying to be better."
I spun to face her. "Go, be better," I forced a smile. "Hope you enjoy getting a nine to five job. Enjoy coming home and looking around the house, where you definitely blessed each space by doing—"
"Please," she choked out, by I tsked, shaking my head.
"See you, Fiona," I responded with as I turned back and walked out of the kitchen.
I barely walked a few steps when she called out, "I'm sorry! Isn't that enough?"
I found myself shivering at her words. "It'll never be enough," I breathed out before wrapping a hand around my door handle. Not waiting for her response, I entered my room and slammed the door shut before I leaned my back against the surface.
I managed to keep my breathing steady before clenching my jaw. I eyed the spray paint that was in my closet before ripping my pyjamas off my body. Quickly, I dressed in black leggings, a fitted black cropped tee shirt and a black baseball cap. Although I knew it was noticeably hot outside, with it being almost August, I didn't want to be recognizable.
So, standing in front of my mirror, I fixed my espresso brown hair into a ponytail and slipped it into the hole above the adjustable strap. I swept my bangs to the side—well, as much as I could—before grabbing the gym bag next to my bed.
In seconds, several cans of spray paint filled the bag before I made my way to the window. I stepped out with ease, and without another thought, I walked down the same trail I used as a teenager. It took an hour, but I was fuelled with adrenaline so the walk didn't faze me.
It wasn't long before I stood in front of the side of the bridge. The same bridge I'd went to when I was high school to paint my feelings away. Like Xavier hinted, I'd gotten caught—only once, but once was enough for me. After that, I'd stuck to working on large canvas'.
The small bridge gave access for two roads under it, but it was hardly ever used since no one knew of this space. I knew that when I got busted, the cops must have cleaned off my work, since water wouldn't be strong enough to remove the paint from the surface.
I haven't been back here since I was seventeen years old, but it felt like yesterday when waves of relief left my body with each stroke of paint.
I didn't waste time as I emptied my gym bag, allowing all the cans of spray paint to roll onto the grass—which was so long that it stopped almost to my knees.
For the next two hours, my vision blurred from the fast movements originating from my arms. There wasn't an ounce of patience as I dropped to my knees, grabbed another colour and continued working without pause. Time slipped from my hands, I realized when I stepped back, looking at my piece.
There were shades of black and grey. The picture in front of me was a little girl, her face up close. However, instead of fully seeing her expression, her long black hair blew over her eyes, hiding them from everyone. But beneath some small strands, there was a glistening tear escaping her eye. Her naturally painted lips were in a believable smile, masking her pain.
The only colour on the painting was her bright red lips, which could easily deceive any person looking over the work.
I shuddered as I sat on the grass, closing my eyes tightly as my arms shook. It took a few moments to let myself calm down, and when I did, I brought all the cans of spray paint back into my bag before walking away from the broken girl.
Halfway through my walk, my speed increased when I noticed that I'd have to be at work in thirty minutes, which didn't give me enough time. So, my legs kicked the dirt under me as I moved through the trees. I was boiling, especially being covered by black fabric, but that mindset didn't deter me.
I was successful because I managed to get to town ten minutes before I had to be in for work. Only, while walking toward the diner, I stopped when I saw Katrina, Liam's younger sister across the street. She was with two other girls, talking and laughing, but right when I was about to continue my walk to the diner, she snapped her eyes in my direction, as if she knew I was standing there.
It took a few moments for her to recognize me, since my get-up wasn't necessarily screaming, I'm Monica Kelly!
She grinned widely when she pointed out my identity. She rushed something out to her friends, not waiting for them before she jogged across the street without looking to check if any cars were driving.
"Monica!" She grinned like we were long lost friends. Before I could say anything, she wrapped her small arms around me and squeezed. "Jeez, you don't know how mama gushes about you," she laughed, ignoring my wide eyes when she pulled away from me a few seconds later.
"What?" I managed to grumble, staring at her with confusion.
She scoffed but still wore a grin. "You know, you're making me look bad in front of my mom! Blyat," she laughed, shaking her head. "All she does is say that I need to help her in the greenhouse, and then says how Monica would have."
When she finished her rant, I couldn't help but smile at the memory of Anastasia and her shop. But before I could reply to her confession, I noticed her eyes cast downward as her brows drew together. Realization hit me that my hands were covered in paint. Shit.
"Why are your hands stained with black?" She asked after a moment, looking back up so I could stare into her dark brown eyes.
I tightly smiled. "Painted something," I told her vaguely, not bothering to explain what or where exactly I painted.
"Kat!" A voice squealed, and I looked over her shoulder, seeing Katrina's friends glaring in her direction. There were both on our side of the street now. "You're so stupid! At least look before you run across the street, debil," the same voice said. I realized that it came from the brunette one—but her hair seemed to be almost blonde in the sun.
When I glanced back to Katrina, I noticed her rolling her eyes. "It's okay, Ang. I'm alive." She didn't bother to wait for her retort before looking back to me with an excited gleam in her eyes.
"You won't be if you keep being stupid!" She hissed, but Katrina ignored her.
"Listen," she whispered, her eyes wide with excitement. "My mom told that... that you at my idiot brat have been talking, and I was just wondering if you could put in a good word for me."
My brows furrowed in confusion. "Brat?"
"Brother," she explained, her lips tightening into a forced smile. "He's an ass sometimes, but he's really persistent on not training me."
And I was still confused. "Train you for what?"
She sighed, trying to appear calm as she crossed her slender arms. "My papa was a mechanic until he retired, giving his shop to Liam. Between the both of us, I was always more into cars, but when I turned sixteen and asked him to let me shadow him, he said no."
"So you want me to convince him to let you help?" I confirmed, watching her with amusement as she grinned, nodding wildly. "Well, I don't know if I have the power to motivate him, but I can ask."
She screeched before jumping toward, wrapping her arms around me again. "Thank you!"
Feeling awkward, I slowly brought my arms around her. "I don't know if it's a for sure thing though, Katrina."
She moved back, looking at me with so much hope. "Call me Kat, and you talking to him will be enough!"
"Well, then I hope I can help," I admitted. I knew what it was like, having a hobby but not being allowed to do it—at least, not without some sneaking around and some help.
Katrina ended up hugging me again before her friends called out for her. As the three of them walked away, I couldn't help but wonder why she'd assume I'd have the power to change her brother's mindset.
┉
When I stepped into the diner just minutes later, Sophie hit me instantly with a rant while we both dressed in our piss stained uniform.
She'd been going off about a show she'd started to watch, called Witches of East End. Every chance she got, she spoke to me about the plot and the characters. Being amused by her excitement, I let her.
She'd been going off about their magic and the potentiality of soul mates in real life. She began to explain the likelihood of two souls being connected, but admits the low chance of ever really finding them. Halfway through her assumption, I tuned her out, since she started spitting ridiculous facts.
It was around six o'clock when I decided to take a ten minute break, since my last table had just left. But right when I walked behind the counter to ask Joe to whip me up something to eat, the door to the diner opened. Automatically, I looked in the direction, only to freeze in my spot a moment later.
Entering the diner was half a dozen cops—they were all talking amongst themselves, but seeing them all here, in front of me... it brought a wave of memories that I couldn't help but remember.
"Freeze!" The first cop yelled when him and another four kicked open the front door. The hands that were gripping my upper arms finally released me, and I gasped out with relief as I fell onto the floor with a thud.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I kept my eyes on the floor. I watched as my fists clenched as I kept myself up. I ignored how my knees burned from the impact of being let go. My vision blurred and everything seemed to go by fast while hearing shouts, followed by shots ring through the house.
When I looked back up, the cops were hauling the man in front of me, carrying him out of the house while blood gushed from his shoulder. I heard crying from behind me as a cop recited her rights before carrying her off.
It was a few moments later when another cop bent down, talking to me soothingly before helping me up. Chris didn't let me talk to him. He dragged me to my room before mumbling something under his breath to the cop that tried to talk to me.
"Mon," a voice said, making my blurry vision focus on Xavier, who was now standing on the other side of the counter, staring at me with worry. His hand reached forward, so it was resting on the table space between us. "Is everything okay?"
I took a few deep breaths, but I made sure to keep my expression blank. The last I spoke to him was when he came to Sophie's apartment and surprised me with Chris' presence, which was on Sunday.
Although it was Wednesday, giving me a few days to cool off, I still was fucking pissed off. He went behind my back and brought Chris, despite knowing that I didn't want to see him.
"What do you want, Xavier?" I asked, keeping myself cool and collected as I arched a single brow. "Come to chat about the weather?"
He frowned, taking a few seconds to gather his thoughts before sitting on the stool next to him. "Mon, come on."
"Why does everyone tell me, come on. You come on, Xavier," I rolled my eyes as I wiped the counter to keep myself busy. "I'm sure Chris would love to come on you, since you both are clearly in love with each other."
When I lifted my eyes from the table, I had to bite back a smirk when I saw him scrunching up his nose in disgust. "I get it, you're pissed off at me," he breathed out slowly. "I did it for you, if it means anything."
I froze, staring at him without emotion. "Did I ask?" I asked, making him sigh.
"I'm sorry," he said, licking his lips before dropping his hand on top of his head, which carried more of his thick hair. "Now can we be friends again?"
I arched a brow. "We were friends?"
"Mother fuck—Mon, stop pulling this shit."
Now enjoying pushing his buttons, I dropped my hands on the edge of the counter, gripping it slightly before leaning forward. "I don't really like pulling shit, I'm more of a push kind of girl," I raised my hands up in mock surrender. "But what you do in the bathroom is your business."
He rubbed his hands across his face, grumbling profound words under his breath. "I need to get drunk," I heard him admit, and for the first time during this conversation, I agreed with him.
Before I could reply, another voice joined our conversation. "Thank you! A rational human being!" Sophie's excited tone was hard to miss before she slid into the seat next to Xavier. Her forest green eyes were lit with mischief as she flipped back her hair—which was currently done in Fulani braids. "I've been talking to Maddie about going to get drinks but she just replies that I'm drinking to much and I'm gonna be an alcoholic."
She turned to me, wearing a frown. "I don't think I'm an alcoholic, am I?"
"If you are, then I am too," I snorted, placing some of the condiments on the lower counter.
Sophie smiled at my statement before looking between Xavier and I. "So, I was thinking of inviting some people to my place, you know? Get drunk in a safe environment and stuff," she drawled out before pursing her lips. "But I'm not inviting a few people... this last week their aura's have been off and I'm not up for it."
Ah, not inviting people because of their aura. Sounds about right.
Although I was prepared to distance myself from them, drinking sounded really appealing right now. "Alright," I found myself saying as I crossed my arms. I leaned against the wall, next to the window that gave me and others access to see into the kitchen. "When is this happening?"
"Next Friday," she grinned, jumping up from her seat with excitement. She stood next to Xavier now, propping her hands onto her wide hips. "Also, the first Friday of August."
I nodded as I glanced around the diner. Some more people began to enter the diner, beginning the dinner rush. When I glanced over the same booth that Liam typically occupied, I licked my lower lip without thought. The sudden urge to invite him stopped my movements.
While I was caught in my own thoughts, I heard Xavier and Sophie exchanging some words. Liam filled my mind, along with how fucking gorgeous he was. His tousled, golden brown hair with natural highlights and layers. His chiselled facial features and a body that could put any model to shame. And his eyes... there wasn't a comparison.
All thoughts of him was swiped from my mind when I focused on the door, which had been opened again, by another cop. But it wasn't just anyone—it was the officer who had arrested mom, all those years ago.
Although it'd been five years since I had last seen him, time did not treat him kindly. Probably in his mid-forties, he had a balding head with wrinkles around his face. His physique wasn't bad for his age, likely because of his profession, but he looked to be in his mid-fifties.
I came to the mental conclusion that the longer I stayed in town, the more I wanted to leave.
Inhaling sharply, I walked toward the saloon swinging doors before walking out from behind the counter. I'd spent too much time talking that taking a break now wasn't an option, so I checked the tables that filled up and noticed that a group of four sat in one of my booths.
Not bothering to keep my eyes lingering on them, I looked down and pulled my notepad and pen out of my aprons pocket. By the time they were firmly in my grasp, I lifted my eyes and eyed the faces sitting in front of the table. It took a few moments for me to realize that some looked familiar.
Two out of three of the guys were in my graduating class in high school, and I even shared some classes with them. I was going to look away from them, only to notice that they were showing obvious symptoms that they were currently on something, probably weed.
"Hello," a familiar, fucking feminine voice dragged out, making me look at the girl sitting by the end of the booth on the left side. Clover's dark brown eyes flickered with recognition when she met my gaze. "Well, isn't it miss no daddy and fucked up mommy," she smirked, allowing me to recall what a bitch she was in high school.
She was sweet the first two years, but after breaking up with her boyfriend, she did a complete one-eighty. She treated almost everyone she met with shit, which was why she had no friends, but she did try to squeeze herself into my group.
Well, it wasn't really a group. I had two people who were close to me, but they had their friends so I often hung out with them. Xavier had been in Kevin's group, which was why I knew him then.
She didn't succeed obviously. Even when she was trying to get close to the guys, she still was a bitch. Even though the guys often expressed their love for pussy, they refused to get from her. If I didn't feel dead inside then, I would have laughed and found enjoyment. But wounds were still fresh at that time, so I didn't care for most things.
Actually, I didn't care at all.
When I noticed Clover's eyes staring at me expectedly, I furrowed my brows. "Am I supposed to break down crying now?" I asked, making her jaw clench. Not bothering to play her game, I looked at the stoned guys and asked for their orders. Clearly having the munchies, they blurted what they wanted.
I was about to step away from their table when she spoke up again. "I've heard rumours!" She called out, and although I couldn't see her face—since my back was to her—I knew she was smirking, as if she caught me with something.
When I turned back to her, I kept my face void of emotion. "Okay, what do you want me to say? Congratulations?" I rolled my eyes again. "I'm glad your ears work?"
Her eyes sharpened on my attire as she snorted. "You're really working here? Enjoy waitressing as a career."
I gasped out a surprised laugh, suddenly feeling defensive for my co-workers. Dropping my things into my front pocket, I crossed my arms as I stared her down. "First off, never underestimate people working in the food industry—no, actually, any industry. You don't know what they're going through, if they can afford schooling or if they cannot afford their lifestyle," my glared hardened on her, feeling a surge of pride as I watched her fiddle with her fingers under the table. "You're a horrible person for even stating that, in my opinion."
Before I turned away, I tilted my head to the side, just enough to bring her attention back to me. Keeping my expression blank, I quirked an eyebrow. "And not that it's any of your concern, but I'm not staying here long enough to make this a full-time career. And it's also immature of you to listen to rumours and thinking they are true."
I waited for her response, but she just looked down, staring at her lap angrily, probably since a retort was lost in her. Not bothering to stick around any further, I glanced at the three guys, who looked completely dazed. "I'll bring your food out shortly," I faked a grin before walking away from their table.
"I heard them from Meredith!" I heard her snicker when I was close to the counter, making my muscles tense up, but I didn't allow her to see that as I continued to walk away.
┉
Although I wasn't physically showing my thoughts, the sound of her name instantly brought me to a dark place filled with the memories I shared with Meredith.
I tried to appear indifferent when serving Clover and the guys she sat with, but unsurprisingly, Sophie saw through my fake facade. She tried asking me if everything was alright when she could, but it was too late—I'd been absorbed by my thoughts and there wasn't a way for me to abandon them.
Still, she was persistent and determined as ever. Too pissed off to deal with her during our shift, I found myself glaring at her. "For someone who hates gossiping, you clearly don't mind annoying me to get answers about a situation that doesn't involve you," I told her.
She only frowned as she crossed her arms in front of her. My retort didn't faze her, since she still stared at me with interest and worry. "Well, I'm curious to what got my friend down. Your aura is on a damn frenzy," she confessed. I was so eager, so eager to spit out we weren't friends, but I didn't have it in myself to do so.
So after she bothered me for another hour, I told her that Clover mentioned something about someone I didn't want to talk, nor think about. Sophie didn't ask anymore questions after that, staring at me with understanding.
It was just passed eleven now. Since there was barely any people in the diner, I took the time to refill the salt and pepper shakers behind the counter, humming a random tune.
Too intent and focused on not spilling the spices, I hadn't heard the door opening, or the pair of feet walking in my direction until I saw a shadow blocking the light in front of me. Glancing up, I met Liam's bright eyes, staring for an extra moment before dropping my gaze to his lips. I noticed the small smirk he fashioned before meeting his gaze again.
"Hey, Bangs," he mumbled, eyeing the salt and pepper in front of me with amusement.
My lips felt dry when I saw him glancing over my uniform. "Hey, Triple," I replied, reaching to my forehead to brush my bangs to my temple. I wasn't as successful, but I needed to keep my hands busy so I tucked some of my baby hair behind my ear.
"Anything worth being happy about today?" He asked, making my lips quirk in amusement. I now noticed that each time I'd seen him since our conversation at the grocery store, he managed to ask if I was happy about something that day.
I tsked, shrugging. "If being happy includes being almost done for the day, then yes."
His eyes narrowed on me playfully. "That's not an acceptable answer, Bangs."
My lips pursed, ready to make a retort, but before I could, Aliana stepped into the diner. "Hi ladies," she smiled as she clenched her purse.
We all greeted her softly as she moved to the employees lounge. When I looked back to Liam, I noticed him pouting as he looked down to the counter between us. "Does this mean you're not gonna be my waitress?"
I couldn't help but cough out a laugh, surprised that he preferred me to serve him. "Go. I'll bring you your order, baby."
When his eyes snapped back to mine, I noticed how dark they'd gotten, making me suck in a breath. Thankfully, he stepped back, walking to his table.
By the time he was sitting down, I was breathing easier, but I still couldn't help but feel his eyes on me while I prepared his milkshake.
"Triple chocolate milkshake," I mumbled after a few minutes, sliding the drink across the table so it was in front of him moments later.
When my gaze lifted to meet his, I couldn't help but smile slightly when I noticed his lip twitching as well. His full lips, which were surrounded by a stubble around his mouth and jawline suited him perfectly, and I couldn't help but admire how attractive he was.
"Ask Aliana for the bill, okay?" I told him as I removed my apron, but before I could step away from his table, he reached forward and caught my wrist, holding me in place.
My eyes were widened with surprise as I met his gaze. "Sit with me," he said, but it sounded more like a demand—a demand I didn't mind following.
Wife. I remembered what he told me Monday as I slid into the seat across from him once he dropped his hand off me.
He used his paper straw to stir the milkshake as he eyed me silently. "You want?" He asked, smiling slightly as he dropped his eyes to his drink. Before I could answer, he inched it closer to me.
I shook my head with amusement. "I'm good. It's too chocolatey for me."
Liam didn't look away from me for a few moments, probably trying to catch if I was lying. But once he was satisfied with whatever he saw, he leaned back against his seat, frowning slightly. "I... I wanted to ask," he began, letting go of his drink so he could fix his baseball cap. He lifted it slightly so I could see some of his hair. "What happened that night?"
I stared at him with confusion, so he rephrased. "On Monday, before Sophie left she said you were upset about something," he asked, watching me with worry. "What happened?"
What happened before he confessed that he had a wife? A wife who died? My issues would seem idiotic, if he heard them.
But after continuing to peer into his eyes, I noticed his genuine curiosity and concern. "Family problems," I admitted, looking at my lap so I could pay attention to how my fingers curled into a fist. "Xavier... this guy I know from high school, brought my brother to Sophie's place and he basically told me to grow up and that my problems with my mom are stupid to hold on to."
I laughed dryly, keeping my eyes low as I shook my head. "Then when I felt... when I went back home, my mom and I got into an argument. I just felt really shitty on Monday. It was one of those days," I finished off, surprising myself that I'd basically opened up about what happened.
Still, I kept my attention lowered on the table, hesitant to meet Liam's gaze. "Monica," he whispered, using my name. "Look at me."
I licked my lower lip, tucking some of my hair behind my ear before lacing my fingers on top of the table in front of me. Not another moment passed before I felt a large, warm hand drop on top of my own, making me suck in a breath.
My eyes snapped up on its own, noticing the supportive smile on his lips. "My parents and I get into a lot of fights, too, if that means anything," he told me, tightening his hold on my hands slightly. "Sorry your brother's a shit," he added, clenching his jaw.
I chuckled softly, shaking my head at his words of comfort. "Your turn," I mumbled, reminding him of what he confessed before we got interrupted by the group of teens.
I felt his hand stiffen on top of mine before he slowly peeled himself away from me. I was about to tell him that it wasn't a rush when I noticed him nodding. "Yeah, I... my wife, Elizabeth. We dated senior year and got married right away," he forced a smile. "My parents did not appreciate that."
He noticed my look of confusion. "They weren't fans of her," he admitted brokenly, staring as his clenched fist. "Anyways, two years ago, she got into an accident and she died in the hospital. The doctors couldn't get her back."
My heart shattered for him. "I'm so sorry, Liam," I whispered, pressing my hand against my chest. "Fuck, I... I'm sorry."
When he lifted his gaze, he gave me a wobbly smile. "It's okay," he mumbled, but he looked down and shook his head while furrowing his brows. "It isn't but I'm living with it."
"How... how do you get past it?" I had to ask.
He laughed under his breath before reaching for his milkshake. "I'm not sure yet," he admitted before taking a sip of his drink while I stared at him, frozen.
I wasn't sure if his statement made me more curious about him, but the longer I watched him, the more I realized I was drawn to him in ways I haven't admitted to yet.
┉
sooo I haven't taken math since
high school, but my major requires
me to take two statistics classes.
currently watching my lecture
and I want to stop <3
anyway! happy Friday lovelies!
I hope this week wasn't too
stressful for you, and you can
enjoy the weekend x
I also hope you enjoyed this
chapter! please vote and
comment your thoughts, and
I'll see you in the next one.
love you xx