𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖚𝖇𝖎𝖒 𝖏𝖆𝖜𝖆𝖍𝖎𝖗

"Your father is small-minded, he has no vision," my mother droned on as she angrily folded laundry from the other side of the screen. "He has no dreams, I swear the man would die poor if I allowed him."

I hummed the melody of the song I'd just finished singing as I began to remove my earrings, "He is traditional, Mama, he just doesn't like the idea of a bunch of strangers digging up our home," I tried to explain, cursing underneath my breath when I dropped the stud.

"Careful with those, the sponsors said not even a dent and we cannot replace them," she reprimanded, only narrowing her eyes when I gave her a sheepish smile. "Did you wear the heels they chose for you?"

My dress was long enough to cover my feet, and I ended up using it to my advantage and wearing more comfortable shoes. Of course, my mother did not have to know that. "Yes," I showed her the numbing lotion on my dressing table, "Everyone complimented how well I was walking in them."

"I will call your manager after this, he has not sent the money for your performance. I think I can use it to fly to Amman," she mumbled, biting her nails as she thought.

"The iron, mama," I reminded her, making her pick it up off the shirt before it could burn. "Are you alright, you look stressed?"

She waved me off, "Because of this small garment? It's a hideous shirt anyway, better it burnt," She looked away, still chewing on her fingers, "You know he can't even fit in it, anyway? The man is losing so much weight, I swear Cherubim there will be a skeleton sleeping next to me tomorrow."

"Mama-

"And he doesn't eat my food," She flicked the button of the iron, turning it off, "He comes home and kisses me and tells me he is not hungry and sleeps," Her head slumped, "All he does is sleep, he just sleeps and sleeps and sleeps."

I frowned, "Should I come home? I can help out with the shop and-

She looked offended at the thought, "What, you think I cannot handle my own husband? Worry about yourself and those universities I have sent you to look at," she snapped, but I could see she was grateful I'd asked. "Unfortunately, I do not think I will be able to attend your graduation."

"Of course," I rushed to console her, "I will send lots of pictures, don't worry, it's okay."

"No, it is not okay," She shook her head grimly, "It's just I had the money put aside for it and, I was even going to get you this-" She sighed, "It doesn't matter I just want to try to see if I can convince him to see someone, maybe get him some pills or something."

"I have a modelling gig next week for the sports shoes thing," I told her, grabbing my phone to open my schedule. "I can maybe send a little cash so you can get him some help a bit sooner."

I could see the anger begin to fill her face, "If I needed your money I would ask for it. The scholarships won't cover everything Cherubim, you need to be saving everything you get," She shook her head, "I hope you're not just throwing money around over there, stop trying to help me. I help you, and that is it."

"But Mama-

She raised her hand to silence me, making me eye her hand that was barren of her wedding ring. I'd stopped seeing it on her finger a week ago, but I hadn't mentioned it, hoping she'd not done something she couldn't take back. But more and more as I called her, I saw her jewellery dwindling one by one, but she would never make a move to ask me for help.

She refused to ask anyone to help.

"I don't want to hear it!" She yelled before covering her mouth immediately, but she made no move to apologise. "There is oil, that is what matters and I'm going to get to the bottom of it," she nodded her head, "Even if it is small, it will go a long way and help the family out. I will dig right beneath the house if I have to get to it, and you will not say a word of it to your father."

A knock on my door cut our conversation short, and I told her I would send them away, but she insisted she go and hung up on me. Looking down at my black phone, I almost called her back, but decided against it when the person knocked again. 

I already told them I would not speak to any more old white men, what more do they want from me?

"What!?" I flung the door open but had to catch my mouth from dropping when I realised who it was. "Versailles."

"Look, I know I'm the last person you'd want to talk to," she began to explain, holding her sports back with tight knuckles over her shoulder. She'd completely changed out of her sparkly outfit that had my eyes glued to her on stage and was now in a simple tank top and sweatpants.

Her pretty golden hair was up in large curls on top of her head, defying gravity easily with the help of the silver costume ribbon that was holding it up. The only trace left of the evening was the stage makeup that she hadn't washed off yet, which made her look like something torn out of a children's fairy book.

"But there's been a huge misunderstanding and I know you don't want to, but I'd appreciate if you would help me clear it up."

I continued to stare at her, wondering what gods had to have been working in my favour to bring her to my door tonight. "A misunderstanding?" I asked, clearing my throat straight after to hide how stunned I sounded.

"Yes," she nodded, still avoiding eye contact with me, "You see, I was talking to this girl, I don't think you'd know her, but her name's Anastasia and she's a really sweet person. She can be a little bit dramatic though and has a tendency to react too quickly-

"Versailles," I cut her off, tired of her talking about the blonde dancer I'd now been forced to remember. "At what point in this story am I supposed to start caring?"

"Right," she swallowed before looking down, which made me want to lift her chin so she would look at me, "She seems to think you are my girlfriend."

I was confused for a second before the interaction she was referring to flashed through my mind like lightning, and I had to bite back a smile. "Oh?"

"Yes, and I tried to tell her that's completely impossible but she really has it in her head that we're definitely dating," she spoke, I leaned into the doorway and rested my hip against it. "So I was wondering if you could just come with me so we can both explain that it's not true and maybe I can fix things with her."

"Hmmm," I feigned thought, "I don't think I'm going to do that," I told her honestly.

Like seriously, why would I fight allegations that I'm with her? If anything, I hope the little dancer runs and tells her friends Versailles is taken too. 

For the first time since the conversation started Versailles gaze snapped to meet my own. "What?" She asked, the breathlessness of the word only forcing my eyes to fall to her lips.

"Look," I shrugged, "If you're going around telling people we're together that's fine but you can't now expect me to get you out of your messes," I stopped her before she could begin to defend herself, "And now you want me to go to this random girl I've never met and tell her what? That I'm not your girlfriend? I mean, if she doesn't believe you, are you sure you even want to be with her?"

"No, it's just that she's saying," She almost looked pained to say it, "She said that you told her we are together."

"Well now, it seems she has me mixed up with someone else," I said, admiring the pretty black lacy bra that was peeking out of her grey shirt, frowning when I realized her chest was free of the intricate black ink I'd seen for the first time a few weeks ago, "Because I don't ever recall meeting an Annabelle."

"Anastasia," she corrected.

I stopped my face from morphing into pure disgust at her speed to defend her. "Yeah 'Ana' might be telling the truth," I spoke, trying to put as much disinterest in my voice as possible. "But she definitely has the wrong girl."

"Well," she bounced on the balls of her feet, which only made something else shake that had my eyes shifting again. "Do you mind coming to tell her that at least?"

"Yes."

She looked surprised, "Wait really?"

"Yes I do mind," I clarified, taking a step back inside my dressing room, "But I do hope you manage to sort things out with this girl, I didn't ever think you liked blondes." Before she could think about what I'd just said too hard, I reached out and swiped my finger over her chest, right above where I wanted to touch, "That's a really good concealer, you should send me the brand," I commented, happy I could now see the pretty eyes of the snake etched in her skin. "Bye Castle."

"Cherry!"

I tried to walk faster, but sighed when I heard the voice only get closer as she continued to call out to me. I finally stopped in my tracks and turned around, refusing to look like I was running away from her, "Josephine," I acknowledged.

Her feet slowed at the hostility of my words, and her smile faltered. "I haven't seen you in almost four days," she tried to laugh, but that quickly stopped when she saw I wasn't laughing, "And I was just wondering if you were upset with me or something."

I blinked, holding my books tighter to my chest, "Why would you think I was upset with you?"

She pulled out her phone and began to scroll through it, "I thought you had like deactivated your socials or something," She ran a hand through her red hair, "But then Robyn reposted this picture of you at that Christmas Show thing this weekend and I couldn't find your account..." She trailed off.

"I mean, I would hope not, considering I blocked you."

"Do you want to tell me why?" She asked, and I felt anger bubble up my chest at the stupid question.

"Where were you on the night of the symphony?" I questioned, pretending like I didn't already know. "Everyone else and I went out after and when Gina tried to call you, it didn't even ring?"

"I only saw her calls in the morning, I only managed to get to a charger when I got home," she explained, a relieved smile blooming on her face as if she thought was about to explain herself out of it.

"Really?" She nodded, "Got home from where?"

"I mean," she began to look bashful, "If you really want to know I slept with someone that night."

I clapped my hands for her, "How delightful, I would think you lost your virginity with how secretive you're being right now," My eye twitched, "Who's the lucky girl?"

It seemed to dawn on her what was going on now, and I could see deep regret pass over her eyes and shame fill them a moment later. "Cher-

"Did you fuck Versailles Mostafah, Joe?"

"I wouldn't have if I knew you were going to be upset about it," she looked at me in disbelief, "Is that seriously why you're mad at me?"

"I'm not your friend anymore, Joe," I told her simply and spun on my heel to walk away from her, but she followed me.

"Gods, Cherry, she sleeps with literally anything that moves," I stopped in my tracks at the insult to her, "If you wanted a chance with her she would've given you it's not like she's a fucking saint."

"Don't talk about her like that."

"Here you go with the defending her again," she groaned, rolling her head back, "You don't even like her? And if you did, how was I supposed to know?"

"Because I told you," I said through gritted teeth, "I told you three years ago when you made a stupid pass at me after the debate match in Shanghai. I told you I love her, and I told you I always had."

"That was three years ago!" She gasped, "And I was off the wine they gave us when we won, I don't remember that."

"The one glass gave you memory loss?"

"I can't believe you're ending our friendship over her?" She spluttered, "She has issues, Cherry, clearly from her fucked up parents and even with what she did to you. She's never going to love you the way you want her to."

I turned away from her, "Stay away from me, Joe."

"You're full of so much shit," she replied but didn't follow me as I made my way to my dorm room, "And to answer your question Cherubim, I didn't fuck Versailles Mostafah! If anything, she fucked me!"