“Can’t wait.” She didn’t pick up on the snark in my tone and I was grateful.
Three years this club had been my baby, my domain, and now she was back it was like the world had forgotten who’d been here all this time. It wasn’t just me going Faye Devere crazy, they all were. I could see it in their eyes as they squeed and gushed and fluffed about each other. She was the favourite and I was forgotten. The boring one who did all the practical shit in the back office.
I sighed and let it go, trying to focus on the revenue the place would be generating as a result, but I was uncomfortable and I couldn’t shake it off, I didn’t want to shake it off.
We headed to the bar, and there was our little minx Topaz. She looked as transformed as the rest of the place, her green hair threaded with electric blue streaks. She had a tiny silver skirt on, reflecting the neons of the bar, and over the top was the thinnest little baby pink blouse, looped up and tied in a tease of a bow.
“Well look at you,” I said. “Quite the little temptress blossoming before my eyes.”
She blushed, and it was as delicious as always.
Faye stepped to the side while Topaz gave a big ta da and unveiled a chocolate cake monstrosity with a flourish. The thing was a tower of decadence taking up the whole bloody corner of the bar top, and there on the top of it were wedding figures, modified wedding figures with whips in their tiny plastic hands. Me and Faye.
Faye really was nervous then. I could see it written all over her face.
“Do you like them?” she said.
I nodded. “Clever.”
“I thought it would be a nice touch, symbolic...”
“Indeed.”
She let it slide, waving goodbye to Topaz and continuing her mission to drag me around the place and point out every little feature, and through every single one she became more desperate, more enthusiastic, ever more keen to see me lose my shit and scream and wail and gush about how exciting it all was, but I wasn’t in that place, not even close.
“Are you ok?” she asked, finally. “You seem a little… distant.”
“I guess I’m just tired.”
She smiled. “But the night hasn’t even begun yet, you’d better find some energy from somewhere.”
“I think I’ll probably stay in the office,” I said. “Watch most of it through the security feed.”
Her face bloomed like I’d slapped her. “You’re not coming?”
“Of course I’m coming, I’m in the building, aren’t I? That counts.”
“No, it doesn’t count.” She smiled to hide her upset, and I felt like a cunt. I was being a cunt. And yet I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
I excused myself as the first guests made their way through, and Faye would have followed me, I know it, if Topaz hadn’t pulled her away saying she needed her at front of house.
Faye’s eyes looked back at mine as we went our separate directions and hers were hurt, they were hurt so badly I could have stopped breathing, stopped walking, pulled her into my arms and promised her everything she ever wanted.
But I didn’t. I just kept on walking.
***
Faye
“Hey!” Topaz dashed along behind me, grabbing my elbow before I disappeared into the storeroom. “Faye, what’s wrong?”
I could feel the tears pooling at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill over and ruin my eyeliner. I tried to stop my lip quivering, and shrugged, mute.
She knew of course. She pulled me into an embrace so much shorter than me, but it didn’t matter. Our sweet little Topaz was growing up. She was wise, and empathic and confident in a way that she hadn’t been when I’d first arrived back, and now she was putting it to great use as my little crutch.
“He doesn’t mean it,” she soothed. “He’s just difficult. It’s probably hard for him to admit this place is fucking rocking tonight.”
“I thought he’d be happy,” I whimpered. “I thought he’d be proud.” And that was it, the tears fell and there was nothing I could do about it. “He expects everything,” I sobbed. “He wants me to work hard, I work hard, he wants me to do a good job and I try my best and he hates it. He wants to be with me, but he won’t be with me, not how I need him to be. He’s hot and cold, and snarky, and bitter and difficult. Always fucking difficult. He’s such an asshole, Topaz. He’s such a fucking asshole.”
“But you love him anyway.” Her voice was so quiet but so firm.
And she was right.
I’d always loved Andy Morgan. I’d always been in love with Andy Morgan. I’d been in love with him since the moment I met him, since before I knew anything about him, and it may not have been real then but it sure felt real now.