Cigarettes & Valentines (PUNK)
Spilt Wine
INDIAH'S POV
The most painful goodbyes are the ones that are never said and along with that never explained. I wish, I should have, if I could go back and just... it's all I can ever think about. Mother dearest did always tell me during sleepless nights and un-welcomed good mornings that this world we're in is full of monsters with friendly faces; perhaps, if I had of listened back then, I could have set myself up properly for the battle of living I face now. Being alive and living are two completely different things. I, well.. have been cursed with open eyes and a beating heart. I'm not sure what else I should be doing.
Another disappointing and wasteful night of my singleton life had been ruined by another geriatric fuck who over dinner, felt the need to openly express to me that his sexual desires in regards to our acquaintanceship were more important to him than 'getting to know me'. A full plate of food half tossed across the restaurant table and red wine spilt from high-end tumblers were enough to call it a night along with a string of obnoxious goodbyes I wasn't intent on hearing. The cab ride home was nonetheless just as uncomfortable. The drivers eyes kept peering through the rear-vision mirror at me; awkward glances making me forever thankful that I hadn't decided to go out with a much shorter and more provocative skirt this evening. Minutes flew by as I bit my nails and hoped, with fingers crossed that the apartment block would show up right around the next corner.
Fare paid with little argument of an overcharge and my heels clipping at the ground with each step I took, I grasped at the handrail inside the apartment building and without enthusiasm, dragged myself up to the 13th floor reading that for the fourth time that week, the sign on the elevator still read out of order. My heartbeat as vivid as a horror movie from lack of fitness, I stood at my front door pathetically; purse in hands and a sheer look of disappointment on my face as I knocked twice, waiting to be let in.
"Just a minute!", I could hear yelled from inside. The television volume dropped dramatically and I could hear shuffling and cursing as my housemate made it too the door. A swift turn of the lock which would let me and I was met with a bubbly, "How was your date?"
"Willow, you know better than to ask dumb questions", I sighed, shoulders dropping and shoes being kicked off at the front door before I walked inside, heard the door shut behind me and dropped down onto the couch, pulling into my lap a bowl of popcorn which was on the coffee table for comfort. Yes, food was always something that made me feeling better - that and complaining. I was sure we'd get that far later in the night though.
"He another weird one?", the animated blonde asked. Willow was well, in one word - ideal. Educated, funny, exception dress sense and a personality to die for. Of course, like everyone else she had her flaws but she was always able to play them down and work on her strengths in a positive manner.
"Weird is an understatement", I explained to her, mouthing a handful of buttery goodness.
"As weird as Todd?", she asked, folding her legs underneath herself and settling into the couch to play the role of best friend therapist. I paused for a moment; looking at her intently.
"No one is as weird as Todd", I dropped before mocking, "Hi, the names Todd, but tonight; you can call me daddy."
A fit of laughter escaped from the both of us, legs kicking around in the air and smiles crossing our faces, instantly giving me a pick me up from tonight's earlier events. I explained the whole situation with 'Michael' within a few minutes. How everything had started off fine and then out of nowhere he brought up the use of handcuffs and how he wasn't a fan of the missionary position. Willow rolled her eyes, brushing her auburn hair back behind her ears and propped her head up on her arm resting along the back of the couch.
"You sure do attract some strange ones."
"Attract?", I exaggerated, "I'm like a fucking magnet."
"You know.. there's always Greg--."
"No!", I cut her off quietly.
"Yeah, but at least we know his into you for you", Willow pointed out, taking some of the popcorn, "Oh hey.. did you want a drink? A wine might cheer you up."
"I need something way, way stronger than that", I admitted, "And I can't drink anyway, I've got work in the morning."
"Oh, speaking of mornings", Willow snapped her fingers out of time, "Your dad called earlier.."
Now this should be interesting. Dad never calls. As far as I'm concerned; he's only got one child and that would be his son, or well.. my brother, Jordan the Great.
"What did he want?", I kept conversation rolling, my mind slowly starting to shut off now that something I wasn't keen on hearing or discussing had arisen.
"To see you, he's organize lunch at Riviera's for the two of you."
"The two of us?", I was left with my mouth hung open.
"Yeah", Willow nodded, "Just the two of you."
"Is this some sick joke you're playing on me?", I asked, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.
"Nope", Willow let out, popping the p.
"Alright..."
"There's a message on the answering machine", she explained, her hand twirling like a dancer over in the air, "And then he called again and I answered."
"Great.. what time?"
"Eleven. You start work at 12.30."
My eyes rolled into the back of my head and I slumped low into the couch, feeling as if I'd taken half of the material down with me. Not only did I have something planned against my will; I'd be stretched for time between Riviera's and work.
"In that case..", I eyed off the clock which teased me with it's arms pointing to 10.30, "I should get some sleep. You calling it a night Wil?", I asked yawning and stretching my arms up above my head.
"Oh me.. um", she paused thinking for a second, "I might stay up a little longer."
"Alright, well.. goodnight."
"Night Indiah!"
Morning sleep ins, cold showers and make up dilemma's which cause me to only incur lower self esteem, I'd finally pulled myself together - just in time for a lunch with my father of whom I was certain had ulterior motives than just a friendly get together. 3 cups of coffee, a salad, french fries and a slice of cheesecake later I felt fat, full and friendly. Rubbing my shirt clean from crumbs which had spilt, my father asked me if I'd heard from Jordan or my mother lately.
"You mean like mom, mom or that woman you married who pretends to be my mother?", I questioned him, keeping my eyes down. I sure as hell wasn't confident enough to bring up the fact that even if I had to walk across hell and back I was sure I wouldn't find someone anywhere near as fake, insincere and cringe-worthy as the trash my father had left my mother for.
"Poppy", let stated quietly. No other words whispered under his breath.
"The last time I spoke to her would of been the Christmas the two of you split before what... 3 years ago?", I plainly laid out.
"That long?"
"I don't really know what I should do, or say.. or..", I lost my train of thought.
"Well.. Aline might.."
"Aline, nothing", I snapped, pushing myself up from my seat.
"Sit down!"
"No."
"Indiah.. Sit. Down."
That tone of voice indicated his frustration, hatred and pittance towards me. In his eyes, I was a failure - just another woman he had to deal with due to sheer pettiness and the unfortunate circumstances of our blood relation. I was 21 and still got treated like a 5 year old. Not that I would expect anything different. I should of aimed higher, I should have achieved greater, I should be wanting to show the world how great I am. No, glamorizing myself to be a showpiece for the family wasn't what I wanted, nor intended to do. My father had my brother for that; he and his fancy house, fancy car, fancy girlfriend, fancy job.. why did he still bother me? Want to suppress me?
"Now we're having dinner this saturday night", he began to explain. I mentally jotted down saturday night in my head hoping I'd remember and watched as he took a card and pen from his pocket, jotting something down with black ink on the back. "I'd like it if you could join us."
"And if I can't?"
"But you will.."
I snatched the card begrudgingly from his fingers and dropped enough cash from my wallet to cover what I'd ordered before heading off without a care for goodbyes or sorrows. I didn't need sympathy from him and I could pay for myself through life. Playing with my watch and realizing it was only 11.45, I convinced myself a little browsing wouldn't hurt and dropped into Barnes & Nobles hoping to lose myself in pages of print.
Wandering aisles of paperbacks and hardcovers, magazines and gift cards, I stumbled across the fiction section, quickly finding P and searching the shelves high and low for the latest Chuck Palahniuk release I had been after for a while now. Pulling the book out by its spine off the shelf, I flipped it over and began reading the blurb on the back, hoping to fall inlove with his writing once again.
"You a Palahniuk fan?", I heard directed my way. I wasn't sure I wanted to engage in conversation still feeling uptight about my fathers well wishes and the fact that I was sure, this voice would eventually fall into smart ass commentary.
"Yeah..", I let slip from my lips, turning to face the boy who had initiated conversation, "I read Fight Club in like.. 9th grade and just fell in love.."
"Well in that case", he let out running his fingers along the row of book spines, "You might like.."
As this stranger began trying to find me a literary printed wonderland I let my eyes gaze over him, clueless as to why he'd even chosen to talk to me. Light, dirty brown hair hidden mostly under a beanie and tattooed arms peeking out from beneath a lightweight white tee, I was caught off guard when he turned and handed me a paperback.
"Bret Easton Ellis", he explained with a smile, "Guys a genius."
"So you um.. like work here or?", I asked politely, still trying to figure out why he was talking to me. From the sounds of quiet aisles around us, it was quite possible we were the only two people in here.
"No", he shook his head, "I'm a teacher."
"And they let you teach looking like that?", I spat out wishing I'd had thought of my words a little better.
"You shouldn't be so quick to judge a book by its cover", he smirked.
"I um..", I dropped my head, "Fuck. Sorry.. I just.."
I could feel my cheeks warming to an apple red.
"It's okay", he laughed off, hands crossing over his chest.
"No, no it's not", I apologized, "I have a shitty life so I just judge others because it makes me feel better about my own pathetic self."
"Really?"
"No, but I can fake it."
"That's a shame, you seem like a pretty sweet girl."
Was that a compliment?
Nervously twitching my watch around and patting the books covers with my free hand, I saw that I'd lost track of time and started work in only a few minutes.
"Shoot, I need to go."
"Why so soon?", the boy asked, dropping his arms as I handed him the books.
"Work", I clarified.
"And where do you work? Is it far?"
"Redwood Medical, and um... no its.."
"Down the road", he finished my sentence.
I nodded and gave a sincere look of an apology before I started backing down the aisle.
"It was nice meeting you", I acknowledged with a smile, not knowing if it was rude to break eye contact first and just, oddly staring until I'd taken a few more steps and turned around.
"You know I never got a name", he called out, causing me to stop dead in my tracks and fumble about, unsure of what I should do. Twisting my shoulders left and right to finally turn myself around, I let out a quiet groan unsure of if I should answer. A part of me just wanted to break free, stay here all day, get to know this stranger and read until the place kicked me out - the other part, knew better than that.
"Indiah..", I called out with a smile. My mother had insisted on my name; something about being beautiful and contemporary with a hint of mystery. I doubt any other person saw it that way.
"Louis..", he grinned in response, teeth showing.
And with a simple conversation and no hello ~ a goodbye was motioned.
The most painful goodbyes are the ones that are never said and along with that never explained. I wish, I should have, if I could go back and just... it's all I can ever think about. Mother dearest did always tell me during sleepless nights and un-welcomed good mornings that this world we're in is full of monsters with friendly faces; perhaps, if I had of listened back then, I could have set myself up properly for the battle of living I face now. Being alive and living are two completely different things. I, well.. have been cursed with open eyes and a beating heart. I'm not sure what else I should be doing.
Another disappointing and wasteful night of my singleton life had been ruined by another geriatric fuck who over dinner, felt the need to openly express to me that his sexual desires in regards to our acquaintanceship were more important to him than 'getting to know me'. A full plate of food half tossed across the restaurant table and red wine spilt from high-end tumblers were enough to call it a night along with a string of obnoxious goodbyes I wasn't intent on hearing. The cab ride home was nonetheless just as uncomfortable. The drivers eyes kept peering through the rear-vision mirror at me; awkward glances making me forever thankful that I hadn't decided to go out with a much shorter and more provocative skirt this evening. Minutes flew by as I bit my nails and hoped, with fingers crossed that the apartment block would show up right around the next corner.
Fare paid with little argument of an overcharge and my heels clipping at the ground with each step I took, I grasped at the handrail inside the apartment building and without enthusiasm, dragged myself up to the 13th floor reading that for the fourth time that week, the sign on the elevator still read out of order. My heartbeat as vivid as a horror movie from lack of fitness, I stood at my front door pathetically; purse in hands and a sheer look of disappointment on my face as I knocked twice, waiting to be let in.
"Just a minute!", I could hear yelled from inside. The television volume dropped dramatically and I could hear shuffling and cursing as my housemate made it too the door. A swift turn of the lock which would let me and I was met with a bubbly, "How was your date?"
"Willow, you know better than to ask dumb questions", I sighed, shoulders dropping and shoes being kicked off at the front door before I walked inside, heard the door shut behind me and dropped down onto the couch, pulling into my lap a bowl of popcorn which was on the coffee table for comfort. Yes, food was always something that made me feeling better - that and complaining. I was sure we'd get that far later in the night though.
"He another weird one?", the animated blonde asked. Willow was well, in one word - ideal. Educated, funny, exception dress sense and a personality to die for. Of course, like everyone else she had her flaws but she was always able to play them down and work on her strengths in a positive manner.
"Weird is an understatement", I explained to her, mouthing a handful of buttery goodness.
"As weird as Todd?", she asked, folding her legs underneath herself and settling into the couch to play the role of best friend therapist. I paused for a moment; looking at her intently.
"No one is as weird as Todd", I dropped before mocking, "Hi, the names Todd, but tonight; you can call me daddy."
A fit of laughter escaped from the both of us, legs kicking around in the air and smiles crossing our faces, instantly giving me a pick me up from tonight's earlier events. I explained the whole situation with 'Michael' within a few minutes. How everything had started off fine and then out of nowhere he brought up the use of handcuffs and how he wasn't a fan of the missionary position. Willow rolled her eyes, brushing her auburn hair back behind her ears and propped her head up on her arm resting along the back of the couch.
"You sure do attract some strange ones."
"Attract?", I exaggerated, "I'm like a fucking magnet."
"You know.. there's always Greg--."
"No!", I cut her off quietly.
"Yeah, but at least we know his into you for you", Willow pointed out, taking some of the popcorn, "Oh hey.. did you want a drink? A wine might cheer you up."
"I need something way, way stronger than that", I admitted, "And I can't drink anyway, I've got work in the morning."
"Oh, speaking of mornings", Willow snapped her fingers out of time, "Your dad called earlier.."
Now this should be interesting. Dad never calls. As far as I'm concerned; he's only got one child and that would be his son, or well.. my brother, Jordan the Great.
"What did he want?", I kept conversation rolling, my mind slowly starting to shut off now that something I wasn't keen on hearing or discussing had arisen.
"To see you, he's organize lunch at Riviera's for the two of you."
"The two of us?", I was left with my mouth hung open.
"Yeah", Willow nodded, "Just the two of you."
"Is this some sick joke you're playing on me?", I asked, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.
"Nope", Willow let out, popping the p.
"Alright..."
"There's a message on the answering machine", she explained, her hand twirling like a dancer over in the air, "And then he called again and I answered."
"Great.. what time?"
"Eleven. You start work at 12.30."
My eyes rolled into the back of my head and I slumped low into the couch, feeling as if I'd taken half of the material down with me. Not only did I have something planned against my will; I'd be stretched for time between Riviera's and work.
"In that case..", I eyed off the clock which teased me with it's arms pointing to 10.30, "I should get some sleep. You calling it a night Wil?", I asked yawning and stretching my arms up above my head.
"Oh me.. um", she paused thinking for a second, "I might stay up a little longer."
"Alright, well.. goodnight."
"Night Indiah!"
Morning sleep ins, cold showers and make up dilemma's which cause me to only incur lower self esteem, I'd finally pulled myself together - just in time for a lunch with my father of whom I was certain had ulterior motives than just a friendly get together. 3 cups of coffee, a salad, french fries and a slice of cheesecake later I felt fat, full and friendly. Rubbing my shirt clean from crumbs which had spilt, my father asked me if I'd heard from Jordan or my mother lately.
"You mean like mom, mom or that woman you married who pretends to be my mother?", I questioned him, keeping my eyes down. I sure as hell wasn't confident enough to bring up the fact that even if I had to walk across hell and back I was sure I wouldn't find someone anywhere near as fake, insincere and cringe-worthy as the trash my father had left my mother for.
"Poppy", let stated quietly. No other words whispered under his breath.
"The last time I spoke to her would of been the Christmas the two of you split before what... 3 years ago?", I plainly laid out.
"That long?"
"I don't really know what I should do, or say.. or..", I lost my train of thought.
"Well.. Aline might.."
"Aline, nothing", I snapped, pushing myself up from my seat.
"Sit down!"
"No."
"Indiah.. Sit. Down."
That tone of voice indicated his frustration, hatred and pittance towards me. In his eyes, I was a failure - just another woman he had to deal with due to sheer pettiness and the unfortunate circumstances of our blood relation. I was 21 and still got treated like a 5 year old. Not that I would expect anything different. I should of aimed higher, I should have achieved greater, I should be wanting to show the world how great I am. No, glamorizing myself to be a showpiece for the family wasn't what I wanted, nor intended to do. My father had my brother for that; he and his fancy house, fancy car, fancy girlfriend, fancy job.. why did he still bother me? Want to suppress me?
"Now we're having dinner this saturday night", he began to explain. I mentally jotted down saturday night in my head hoping I'd remember and watched as he took a card and pen from his pocket, jotting something down with black ink on the back. "I'd like it if you could join us."
"And if I can't?"
"But you will.."
I snatched the card begrudgingly from his fingers and dropped enough cash from my wallet to cover what I'd ordered before heading off without a care for goodbyes or sorrows. I didn't need sympathy from him and I could pay for myself through life. Playing with my watch and realizing it was only 11.45, I convinced myself a little browsing wouldn't hurt and dropped into Barnes & Nobles hoping to lose myself in pages of print.
Wandering aisles of paperbacks and hardcovers, magazines and gift cards, I stumbled across the fiction section, quickly finding P and searching the shelves high and low for the latest Chuck Palahniuk release I had been after for a while now. Pulling the book out by its spine off the shelf, I flipped it over and began reading the blurb on the back, hoping to fall inlove with his writing once again.
"You a Palahniuk fan?", I heard directed my way. I wasn't sure I wanted to engage in conversation still feeling uptight about my fathers well wishes and the fact that I was sure, this voice would eventually fall into smart ass commentary.
"Yeah..", I let slip from my lips, turning to face the boy who had initiated conversation, "I read Fight Club in like.. 9th grade and just fell in love.."
"Well in that case", he let out running his fingers along the row of book spines, "You might like.."
As this stranger began trying to find me a literary printed wonderland I let my eyes gaze over him, clueless as to why he'd even chosen to talk to me. Light, dirty brown hair hidden mostly under a beanie and tattooed arms peeking out from beneath a lightweight white tee, I was caught off guard when he turned and handed me a paperback.
"Bret Easton Ellis", he explained with a smile, "Guys a genius."
"So you um.. like work here or?", I asked politely, still trying to figure out why he was talking to me. From the sounds of quiet aisles around us, it was quite possible we were the only two people in here.
"No", he shook his head, "I'm a teacher."
"And they let you teach looking like that?", I spat out wishing I'd had thought of my words a little better.
"You shouldn't be so quick to judge a book by its cover", he smirked.
"I um..", I dropped my head, "Fuck. Sorry.. I just.."
I could feel my cheeks warming to an apple red.
"It's okay", he laughed off, hands crossing over his chest.
"No, no it's not", I apologized, "I have a shitty life so I just judge others because it makes me feel better about my own pathetic self."
"Really?"
"No, but I can fake it."
"That's a shame, you seem like a pretty sweet girl."
Was that a compliment?
Nervously twitching my watch around and patting the books covers with my free hand, I saw that I'd lost track of time and started work in only a few minutes.
"Shoot, I need to go."
"Why so soon?", the boy asked, dropping his arms as I handed him the books.
"Work", I clarified.
"And where do you work? Is it far?"
"Redwood Medical, and um... no its.."
"Down the road", he finished my sentence.
I nodded and gave a sincere look of an apology before I started backing down the aisle.
"It was nice meeting you", I acknowledged with a smile, not knowing if it was rude to break eye contact first and just, oddly staring until I'd taken a few more steps and turned around.
"You know I never got a name", he called out, causing me to stop dead in my tracks and fumble about, unsure of what I should do. Twisting my shoulders left and right to finally turn myself around, I let out a quiet groan unsure of if I should answer. A part of me just wanted to break free, stay here all day, get to know this stranger and read until the place kicked me out - the other part, knew better than that.
"Indiah..", I called out with a smile. My mother had insisted on my name; something about being beautiful and contemporary with a hint of mystery. I doubt any other person saw it that way.
"Louis..", he grinned in response, teeth showing.
And with a simple conversation and no hello ~ a goodbye was motioned.
Notes
:) Here's to not an ordinary friendship.
Let me know what you think <3
What the heck is chapter 3 about.
6/19/14