𝐓𝐖 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐡

❦︎

The canvas set before me was a journal, my paintbrush a pen. Its ink had run dry from waiting for the right words to express my overwhelmed and unordered thoughts. There hadn't been an entry for about six months.

Lack of motivation and avoidance had left me staring at its linen in the dimness of my room as it reflected and exposed instead of validating my agony in living when I preferred not to. This running theme was now replaced by a singular piece that portrayed when my heart did stop and when my world almost did end with everything in-between.

That very piece helped me out of my dire state and gave me the ability to unscramble and make sense of my emotions that were inexplicable. Everything twisted and bitter about myself, my life, I told so easily because there was no hiding the truth after a failed attempt. All the broken pieces I couldn't hold together any longer were now laid out for viewing, conversation and scrutiny.

The present wasn't much different. I wasn't better but I was nonetheless and, now, it hindered me from being so vulnerable again in fear of everything twisted and bitter about myself and my life.

I don't think I'll ever be okay.

My attention was urged by my phone which buzzed incessantly on the vanity. I dropped my paintbrush in the shaped hole meant for it on the easel and got up. Before I picked up the phone I assumed it was River but he normally wouldn't call a second time if I didn't answer the first and would leave a message. Across the lit up screen dancing in place was Tim's contact.

I furrowed my brows at the phone then swiped right to answer and brought it to my ear.

"Did I wake you?" Tim asked considerately in a quiet tone.

I shook my head. "No."

"Then why'd it take you so long to answer?" He questioned sourly.

I turned to face my bed to lean my back against the vanity. I rolled my eyes and my free arm folded across my chest. "What do you want Tim?"

He sighed. "I spoke to Ally and lucky for you she does know someone in your area."

I began smiling and leaned up, eager to know. "Who?"

"Whenever she visits he's who she gets her fix from, but considering her last visit was two years ago it's not certain his stuff's safe and Ally's not the best judge of anything," he cautioned but I only cared for the name.

"Ok...what's the name?" I rushed him impatiently.

He paused to take a drink of something that I knew was most likely alcohol or had some alcohol in it. This made me wonder if he was drunk.

"You know when Ally talks it goes through one ear and out the other because it's normally a bunch of bullshit?" He snorted and I exhaled unamused.

"Get to the point Tim!" I exclaimed harshly.

"I forgot," he said and I imagined myself reaching my hand through the phone and choking the living hell out of him.

"What do you mean you forgot?" I grumbled.

"I don't know," he stated.

I scoffed. "Then why'd you call?" I questioned

"To hear your beautiful voice," he joked which provoked me further.

"Fuck off," I told him and whatever he said after was cut off by the sound of me ending the call.

I returned to the stool to take down the easel and put away the canvas and paints.

My head lifted to the knock at my door. June's head peaked through it as she opened it slowly before I could say she was allowed to come in.

"You're awake?" Her brows lifted in surprise then she straightened up and walked in further.

"Yeah, not for long. I'm going to sleep when I'm done packing this up." I uttered pettishly. I closed up the easel like an umbrella then brought it back to its designated spot in the closet.

While my back was turned she walked over to where I was sitting. "What did you paint?" She asked reaching to pick up the canvas. Confusion halted her speech when she noticed it was blank.

"Nothing." I turn and face her my eyes droopy and tiresome. "June, why are you in here?" I asked genuinely.

"I can't sleep," she confessed miserably.

"And being in my room's going to make that happen?" I asked, taking the canvas from her and leaning it face down against the leg of the vanity. The paintbrushes I tied with an elastic and placed in the bottom draw.

"It is much nicer than mine," she whined.

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever."

I walked over to my bed and lifted the comforter on the right side of it where I always slept. I threw one of the pillows to the other side for her.

She climbed in after, sitting up against the head board and tucking the excess sheet under her thighs. "Was that Tim you were talking to just now?" She asked and I couldn't help but sigh. I didn't feel like talking, especially since Tim wanted to add himself to the list of people that were annoying me tonight.

With my back turned to her I brought the sheet up to my neck to cover my arms. "Yes," I answered flatly, a sudden yawn escaping my mouth afterwards.

I closed my eyes and was already falling asleep when I heard her honeyed voice call my name. "Did you really mean what you said about no one being content when I'm around?" She asked softly. My brows drew together, confused by the suddenness of her question and unaware of the reason it needed to be asked right now.

I opened my eyes to turn and look at her over my shoulder. "What?"

"I'm asking if you meant what you said?" She repeated.

"No, I got that, what I didn't get is that that's the part that stuck with you, not the part where I said I pay for it," I questioned her comprehension.

"How is that my fault?" She asked heedless of past situations.

I sat up and positioned myself to face her directly. "Because you're actively trying to get me in trouble," I condemned, "the main reason why we don't get along."

"We don't get along because you're selfish! Everything has to be about you!" She spat.

My shoulders fell and I stared blankly at her, doubtful. "Really?"

"Really!" She attested.

"Eden, all of us suffer at the hands of dad when he's angry, not just you. Start acting like you're aware of that for a change and suck it up like the rest of us."

"That's real rich," I laughed, "coming for the daughter he has never laid a finger on, never even raised his voice at because whenever that time came you pointed your finger at me." My tone now bittered with disdain and its calmed volume much higher.

"That's how it's always been June," I added, "and now you want to act like that hasn't been the case, that for some reason I should speak kindly to you, sympathize with you on this 'shared' experience?"

Like always she just stared stupidly at me whenever I said anything that entailed the truth about her personality or our family. And tomorrow she would carry on as if this conversation never happened.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and those words, from her mouth were too rare to even conceal my surprise. Because of that it felt meaningful, sincere and I didn't know if I should take it as such.

I waited for her to say more but she left me with nothing so I sighed, and said, "Okay." Because I would gain nothing for accepting or denying it.

I waved a hand towards the lamp on the table next to her, indicating for her to turn it off and she did. I re-covered myself with the comforter once more, squeezing my eyes shut to force the sleep that tired me before to come back.

June just always knew how to push my buttons. I would've told her to get out of my room, if my conscience wouldn't scrutinize me for it when I knew she would sleep better in here.

The next morning I was awoken by a timid knock at my door. When I turned over and open my eyes the sun was half risen and June was gone. I groaned, getting up out of the bed as I rubbed my sleepy eyes on my way to the door.

"Good morning, Miss Eden," Lydia whispered gently when I opened the door.

"Lydia? Wha-what are you doing here so early?" I yawned.

She lifted from her side my uniform hung neatly on a hanger. "I've ironed it," she said.

"My mother normally does that," I told her and she nodded with a slight assuring smile that enlarged her rheumy old eyes.

"Miss Elizabeth told me that I must do it from now on," she explained.

"Alright, thank you, Lydia," I smiled tiredly. As she was about to leave I stepped out of the room to stop her.

The faint noise I was hearing before was cleared up to be my parents' habitual arguing downstairs. They weren't screaming or yelling but from the harsh tone of their loud enough talking I knew they were fighting.

"Lydia!" I called in a loud cautious whisper.

She spun around to face me again, her beige dress sweeping around with the grace she carried herself with. She waited for me to continue as she processed my obviously frantic expression.

"Do you know what they're talking about downstairs?" I pointed towards the balcony that overlooked the steps.

"Your dinner with the Mayor last night, she answered then added, "Mr Arthur is not very happy."

I nodded my head apprehensively, stricken by the understanding of what that meant.

"Oh, no," I muttered to myself worriedly. I had thought, since he hadn't scolded me yesterday that it would just be left and forgotten about. Why was I always so stupid to believe that I am ever in the clear?

I forced my swelling eyes to meet hers again and they consoled me with unmindful sympathy. "Do they know you're here, did they see you?" I asked and she furrowed her brows at me.

"No, I didn't come through the gates this morning because I wanted to deal with the weeds in the garden by your little house." She smiled.

I was relieved. "Ok, good, good!" I grinned gladly because now there was a way to avoid what I knew would come when the argument grew out of proportion, because they always did.

I gave her an unwarranted suggestions, one I was chary about whether it was
a good idea or not and if she'd take it with shrewd understanding. "Could you go back out the way you came and come through the front this time, like you're just arriving?"

Her expression tightened skeptically, her eyes sharp with inquisition. It wasn't an out of my way question, she worked for me as well. The reason for this ask was the strange and questionable part.

I couldn't tell her that her being in the house and my parents being aware of that would cut the argument altogether and delay his confrontation with me. They would need to put their best face on and forget whatever wrong it was that I deserved to be punished for.

"My parents prefer being the ones to greet our staff first thing in the morning...it's routine to start their day," I finished with a forced toothless smile. If I were her I wouldn't buy that but it wasn't her business anyway.

She responded but I was keen on trying to figure out if they had suddenly stopped talking and were listening. She exited through the rare staircase.

I jumped at the loud ding of the doorbell I had been waiting to hear ring. I stepped away from the balcony when I saw my mother emerge into the foyer to open the door. When she announced her being at the door I felt relief wash over me and went back into my room to get ready.

I didn't plan on eating breakfast but I told my mom I would in the car because I was 'running late'. Danvers pulled out from the garage into the driveway and as we neared the gate the paparazzi were on the other side of it with reporters.

"What the hell?!" I leaned forward in awe at the number of them.

"There were more of them last night," Danvers told me. He found my father's contact on the dashboard that was connected to his phone and dialled it. The ringing sounded throughout the car.

"Sir, there's a whole crowd of reporters outside the gates right now so you might want to hold off until, to leave," he informed my father.

"This is fucking private property!" My father spat on the other end.

"I know that sir," Danvers replied. My father was never shy about his hatred for the very people that kept us relevant. The same people he forced us to put on perfection for.

"Call Andres and let him know that I'll require his services today," he ordered. Andres was his occasional bodyguard. "And get security here, now!"

The call ended and Danvers opened the gates with the press of a button on the roof. As it opened they all rushed out of its way to avoid getting crushed.

When Danvers started to exit through the gate the divider rose, cutting off my view of them, and their view of me with its dark tint. The back windows were also tinted on the outside, allowing only me to see the other side of it.

I drew myself closer to the middle, my head peaking slightly through the divider that Danvers rolled down when we got onto the main road. "Out of ten, how do you think today will go, given what I did?"

He glanced at me with a shrug. "Five?" He awaited my approval.

I nodded then said, "I was thinking more of an eight." I cocked my head with a smile.

"That's very optimistic of you!" He exclaimed, surprised.

"I try." I shrugged modestly and we arrived just before the first bell rang.

When I walked into the school that optimism diminished. I had a meeting with Principal Montgomery but I would go to class first for attendance. I turned down the hall and there was an unusual crowd right where my locker should be.

"Absolutely no," I muttered, shaking my head and turning around to take my leave only to bump into Leighton.

"Running away are we?" He smirked.

Why are they all standing by my locker?" I asked, pointing back.

"Why else?" He shrugged. "They're waiting to congratulate, maybe befriend the newest member of the VIPs," he said casually with mischief.

"Who, me?" I glared at him, my chest rising anxiously.

"Yes, a reward for your outstanding performance yesterday," he was looking at me but those words weren't just for me.

He then stepped closer, lowering his mouth to my ear and whispered, "Seeing as you'll be my girlfriend in only a matter of days there's not much that I can do that won't raise questions," he said and I rolled my eyes, stepping back.

"Leighton, it's seven in the morning and I am really not in the mood for your shit," I warned.

Suddenly he started to back up, pointing a finger past me and I made the absolute worst decision to turn around.

Ice cold fucking water and whatever else was mixed in it splattered across my face. The rest hit my body, soaking my uniform and I slip on the excess that got onto the floor. I felt like I was drowning by the amount they threw at me and like a never-ending waterfall the liquid dripped down my face, blurring and burning my eyes. I tried to keep my mouth shut but that was after some of it went into my mouth. I began retching after failing to spit it out. I could hear all them laughing and if water didn't get into my ear it would be deafening. I couldn't see but I knew they were filming.

This was beyond humiliating but that shame wouldn't set in until later. Later was when I'd cry about it. Right now I was angry, so very angry because this was undeserved and such a bitch move.

𝐀/𝐍

First, thank you all for 100k again, 114k now. Never thought I would've seen the day, it's still unreal. I love you all♥️

Second, ik this chapter is very late and I'm very annoyed at myself too (can't promise it won't happen again lol) but the version I had written prior to publish, I hated so here we are with a more liked version...ig

Enjoy 😘