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❛ ʟᴇᴀᴛʜᴇʀ & ʟᴀᴄᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ꒱


❝ I REMEMBER IT ALL TOO WELL ❞

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3 years later

It rained on the day of Juliet's twenty-first birthday.

The morning dawned with a pale gray mist that covered the streets of London in a thick fog. The precipitation only increased from there to a steady downpour by the time she opened her eyes. It was fitting for her mood, really.

Over the years, she had tried to move on. She'd accepted the position in the London orchestra and had found her first job. Her apartment hardly held any remnants of her past life; all of her furniture was from London and she'd donated her clothes to get rid of the memories that lingered on them. The only friends she was still in contact with were Kendrick and Celeste but that was because they had moved to England with her. Celeste had found a position at Sotheby's as an art curator and the offer had been lucrative enough for them to relocate— or that was partially true, at least, and that was the reason they gave Juliet.

Despite her efforts, however, it still felt as though her emotions were covered by a heavy blanket since. . . well, she was calling it "the breakup." It was easier to think of it like that than in any other term. The world around her seemed to move at a slower pace, as if she were submerged underwater and everything was slightly muted.

The clock read ten a.m.. With a heavy sigh, the redhead stretched in her bed and rubbed roughly at her puffy face. The nights were always the worst.

There was nothing to distract her mind as memories from her past replayed in loops. The time that she was supposed to spend sleeping was instead used to lie awake as she stared up at the ceiling as her eyes stung with tears that she tried to keep at bay. Most of the time, she lost that battle and then she would cry and cry with raw emotion. Sometimes she cried so much she wondered how there were any tears left to shed but somewhere, somehow, there were always more. She often woke feeling drained and wrung out from her turmoil from the night— or early morning— before.

Her glassy blue eyes stared up at the pale cream ceiling until she was able to gather her thoughts to throw off the covers. Her bare feet landed on the cold floor but the temperature hardly registered as she stared off into space. This. . . period of nothing was a new part of her routine: it seemed to take longer for her mind to wake up in the morning. She always took the time to sort out her lingering emotions before she "put on a happy face" and pretended that everything was fine.

At ten thirty, Juliet finally stood from her bed and padded over to her closet to select the clothes that she was going to wear for the party that Kendrick had forced her to have. ("It would be good for you!") The apartment was eerily quiet as she entered the kitchen but that was how it was most of the time now; she only put on music when someone was coming over.

The sizzling of eggs was the only sound that broke through the still barrier. She stared down at them as they cooked in the pan, watching as their clear whites solidified and the yolks hardened. The toast popping up startled her despite the fact that she had expected the noise— she had the same breakfast every day, after all.

She ate alone at the island and chewed methodically through her meal, never really tasting the food. After she did the dishes, she went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and finish getting ready for the day.

Juliet hardly recognized the person that she saw in the mirror. While she still had the same long, red hair, it seemed limp and its color dulled. She'd always been pale but now 'ghost-like' was a more apt description; her empty, lifeless eyes and expressionless face only added to the appearance. Even when she forced a smile at herself in the mirror, she could see that it didn't reach her eyes. It would have to do, though; as long as she didn't look Kendrick directly in the face he wouldn't be able to tell that it wasn't genuine.

🌎🌎🌎

Kendrick was, of course, the first one to arrive; the party had been his idea after all. He greeted her happily and she willingly gave him a hug when he offered one. "Hey, Gollum! Happy birthday!"

If he noticed her flinch at the nickname, he didn't say anything. Instead, she smiled as brightly as she could and accepted his present. "Thanks, Kenny. You didn't have to come over so early, you know."

"Since it's your birthday I'll let that Kenny slide— but just this once. And of course I did! Celeste and I both know you have terrible decorating skills."

Juliet pretended to be insulted. "Um, excuse me, but my mom always put me in charge when we decorated for Christmas."

"I bet that was just a pity promotion." He made a show of looking around the apartment dramatically. "I don't see any decorations out now. Do you even have a birthday banner?"

"Of course I do!" She paused. "I. . . just haven't bought it yet."

Kendrick patted her reassuringly— if not with a condescending undertone— on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Gollum. Celeste and I have got you covered. We went shopping last night and everything's in the boot."

A faint smile of amusement flickered across her face. "I don't think your assimilation into British culture is working. Saying boot in an American accent just makes you sound stupid. And I'd be offended if I didn't absolutely hate shopping, so thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Don't mention it, Firecracker. I'll be right back." True to his word, he returned in only a few minutes. "I've got it all: paper hats, birthday banner, noise makers. Everything!"

Juliet peered into the box. "Do you have wine?"

"The birthday girl has to provide something," he told her, though she didn't miss his concerned expression that appeared briefly. "But if you haven't got that either then you can open our gift early."

She looked up at him with a slow, genuine grin. "No. Really?"

He shrugged. "It is your twenty-first birthday. If we were still in the U.S. it would be a pretty big deal."

The redhead gave him another quick hug. "Thank you! You're the best!"

🌎🌎🌎

When it was actually time for the party to start, they had everything set up: Kendrick (with his taller height) had hung up fairy lights around the kitchen and sitting area while Juliet had set out the party favors on almost all of the flat surfaces.

Celeste was the second to arrive as she was bringing the cake; she said that she would've come earlier but both Kendrick and Juliet understood her workaholic tendencies. The others began to arrive after that but the redhead didn't really know them; some of them were coworkers of her two friends and a few were her own colleagues. Even some of her neighbors had been invited, including Marie Harrison and Mark Richards.

The sounds of laughter and conversation soon filled the small space as people talked and mingled. Girls Just Wanna Have Fun played from Kendrick's iPod that was plugged in to the speakers. It was starting to get warm in the apartment so someone had opened the windows to let in the cooler air.

Juliet contented herself with staying in the kitchen to refill the snacks or get someone a drink when they asked for it. Otherwise, she occupied the same chair she'd sat in at breakfast. She sipped slowly on the red wine in her glass as her gaze stayed glued to the front door.

A part of her knew that this was a futile effort; if he wanted to come, he'd had three years to find her. He could have showed up any time between when she'd departed Philadelphia and now, she was sure of it. Her friends were as stubborn and meddlesome as they came; if they really wanted to, they could have located her months ago. But still, there was a part of her that refused to give up hope. It was the small part that said maybe they're still trying, but it drowned out the logic.

🌎🌎🌎

Unbeknownst to the redhead, Kendrick kept a worried eye on her throughout the party. As much as she pretended that everything was fine, he could tell that it was a front. He pretended like he hadn't noticed the changes in her personality to help her feel better, but he did. He'd thought that it would only last a few months or a year at most, though. It was going on three years now and some of her habits were starting to be. . . concerning.

She'd shut out everyone but him and Celeste and all but refused to make new friends. She'd fallen into a routine— and while that wasn't necessarily bad, it was the fact that she didn't branch out that was the problem. More than a few times he'd come over only to see that she'd quickly covered up puffy, red eyes with makeup. Not to mention the fake smiles, the shallow platitudes and the current lack of interest in her own birthday. (If he and Celeste hadn't pushed the subject, he was certain that Juliet would have spent it alone with the bottle of wine that they'd given her.)

The only consolation was that she hadn't given up music in its entirety. While it was true that he hadn't seen her Walkman since they'd left Philadelphia, she'd stuck to her violin with an almost feverish stubbornness.

It was getting late now and the party was considerably smaller, though most of the seats were still taken, including the one that Juliet had sat in hours ago and hadn't moved from since. Kendrick knew what— or really who— she was waiting for. Celeste did, too. The Asian woman's gaze was sympathetic as she observed the redhead. "Have you talked to her yet?"

"Yeah." At his fiancée's pointed look, he sighed. "Well, not about that. I didn't want to bum her out before the party, you know? I figured it would be better after. . . and once she wasn't so. . . sober."

Celeste huffed. "You're a coward. You know that, right? We both know how pathetic she looks waiting at the door like a puppy who misses their owner. We agreed that she needs a reality check."

"I still don't get why we can't do good-cop-bad-cop. I'd rather that she hate one of us, and that one of us be you." He paused. "Love you, by the way."

She patted him on the arm. "I know. Now go talk to her. You're better at being the people-person. I tell it how it is and she doesn't need the harsh reality, just the reality."

Kendrick sighed again and finished the champagne in his glass. He set it down on the mantle next to him. "Fine, fine. I'm going."

"Love you!" Celeste called after him.

He gave her a thumbs-up as he approached the redhead. Juliet didn't even glance in his direction before he cleared his throat to get her attention. "Hey— you know it's supposed to be fun turning twenty-one, right?"

"There's not much to celebrate when England's legal drinking age is eighteen," Juliet countered evenly. Her gaze still didn't move from the door.

Kendrick groaned internally; this was going to be a lot harder than he'd hoped. "Look, Gollum—"

"About that," she interrupted him, finally turning to face him. "Can you not call me that anymore?"

He frowned. "But I've always called you Gollum. It's your 'Rings nickname."

"I-I know," the redhead began, "but. . . maybe you could just stick with Firecracker? I just. . . it brings back bad memories."

There it was— the perfect lead in.

"Okay. . ." he agreed slowly. "But if I don't call you that anymore, can we have a little talk?"

Juliet's expression became suspicious and her grip tightened on the stem of her wine glass. "About what, exactly?"

Kendrick took a deep breath before he spoke: "over the years you've grown up but not out, Firecracker."

She raised a sceptic eyebrow at him. "What, are you suggesting that I should gain weight?"

"No, no, of course not," he said quickly— though personally he thought that Juliet had lost a little too much weight. "I just mean that you've been here for three years but you can barely name anyone who lives in this building. Celeste and I have made friends and travelled the country but of those times, how many have we had you look after our house?"

The redhead's eyes narrowed and Kendrick knew that he was treading dangerous waters, but he pushed on: "we're just worried about you, Gol-Firecracker. It might do you some good to get out and meet someone new. It doesn't have to be a significant other but. . . just someone besides me and Celeste."

Juliet took a sip of her wine before she replied: "I'm perfectly happy with the way things are. And for your information, I can name people who live in this building: Marie and Mark. They're even here at my party."

"Yeah, because we invited them. Did you know their names before they came over?" When she didn't answer, he changed tactics. "Look, I don't want this to turn into a lecture. Can-can we just be honest, here? No one's paying attention to what we're saying."

"I'm being perfectly honest. I'm perfectly happy. Everything is great," she countered, though she was clearly lying through her teeth.

Kendrick reached out to put a warm hand on top of hers. "Jules," he started, and the lack of "personalized nickname" made her meet his eyes. "Come on. You don't have to lie to me— to us, you know. I didn't want to talk about this on your birthday but Celeste and I are worried about you. We know you're faking it and. . . we just want to help."

Juliet studied him for a moment. "You really want to know the truth?"

"Yes. Please."

"Fine," she agreed. "Just a minute." She finished off the remaining wine in her glass in one swallow before she poured herself another, and drank half of that one too.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Kendrick reached out to quickly take the glass from her. "Slow down! What are you doing?"

She met his gaze with a level stare. "If you want an honest conversation this is the only way that I can do it."

They were momentarily interrupted as the remaining people trickled out. Juliet took the distraction to commandeer her wine glass back from her friend and finish it off. Feeling considerably looser, she waited until he'd returned to his seat next to her to continue. She pointedly ignored his concerned look.

Celeste came over to join them. "How's it going over here?"

"Juliet's drinking herself into a stupor just so she can tell us exactly how she feels, so great," Kendrick told her sarcastically.

"You had one job, babe," she said with exasperation. She turned to the redhead. "Juliet, honey, come on. You know this isn't healthy."

"Well, I certainly can't do this sober, so this is the only way. Now, I can drink and talk or we can keep things how they are."

The couple exchanged another worried look but fell silent, allowing her to resume her pattern. They sat together for a little while until Juliet felt reasonably light and floaty, but still coherent enough to express her feelings.

"I wouldn't expect you two to understand," she began, pointing an almost accusing finger at them. "You're both so disgustingly in love it makes me sick. You're one of the lucky ones where a happy ending exists for you two. Sometimes I'm a little jealous of you, you know? I've nearly forgotten what it's like to be genuinely happy, like you are.

"On the best days, I'm half alive but I feel mostly dead. I try and tell myself it'll all be alright, that dreams only last so long. I know what I had is long gone and there was nothing else I could do; I spoke too late and that's on me. Now I just have to figure out how to pick up the pieces and carry on.

"But no matter how hard I try, time won't fly— it's like I'm paralyzed by it. I'd like to be my old self again but I don't know how to do that. The memories are too real and I can't forget them. That-that feeling that I felt with him, it was rare and I just. . . I remember it all too well. It makes moving on hard and forgetting even harder."

The couple exchanged a significant look— the kind that carried a whole conversation in a single glance— before either of them spoke. It was Kendrick who broke the silence: "Firecracker, it's good that you're trying to move on, but maybe you shouldn't try to forget. That was an important relationship in your life that helped to define who you are today, for better or worse. Celeste and I are here for you whenever you need us; if you want someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on or a reminder that there's always hope, okay?"

 Juliet didn't answer for a moment. She finished off the rest of her wine and set her glass down with a little more force than necessary. Standing from her chair, she swayed slightly as she announced: "hope is for suckers. Please see yourselves out. Goodnight."

A/n: here we go!!

I'm still not entirely sure if I like this chapter as I had a specific idea in mind of the direction I wanted to go, and I don't know if I achieved that (especially because I've never been heartbroken myself, so I mostly just listened to sad songs while I wrote this 🤣.) However, the first few chapters are supposed to be depressing as I'm trying to portray Juliet as a human with human emotions (apparently a few people didn't like that in the last book.) I want to focus on her growth as a character and how she will learn to be a "strong, independent woman" again.

That being said, it will be several chapters before Shawn shows up, so I hope you'll be patient as the story develops :) (I can promise that it won't take five and a half acts for them to get back together, lol.) There will also be sprinkles of GMW canon plot in act i but for the most part it will be my own storyline; I didn't want to jump too many years into the future as it would skip out on major character arcs.

Finally, there will be quite a few outside Easter eggs so feel free to point them out when you spot them!

I hope you enjoyed this first chapter; buckle up because we're in for a wild ride! (I can't resist the angst but there will be plenty of happy endings to go around 😄)