As If We Had a Choice
By: Sarah Carey
Chapter One: "All Alone, I Have Cried, Silent Tears Full of Pride,"
Summary: Charles attempts to hold on while his life is falling apart. His wife left him, his company is beginning to struggle, and he feels he can't do anything right. But when an old friend, a moment in time, and a little bit of luck come into play, he just might find life has more in store for him than he could have ever imagined. {CHARLIZA}
Disclaimer: I do not own YOUNGER TV, all characters belong to Paramount pictures. However – I've developed my own take on them. This will be a Charliza story, from Charles's perspective. Credit: To authors, Irene Cara, Giorgio Moroder, Keith Forsey for the Chapter one subtitle, it's from the song they wrote, Flashdance… What a Feeling.
{Charles}
Charles was captivated watching the white particles cascading downward, sideways, then upwards again in a haphazard motion. Falling outside his study window, the snow resembled something intricate. A swirling motion that could only be described like that of a tornado funnel. Both in its cylindrical shape and unpredictability. It was snowing so hard that the roads were now covered in a glistening white blanket of diamonds; crystals illuminating across the grounds as far as the view from his study granted. When he looked closely he could see the gutters of the sidewalks were overrun with the rock salt and sludge from the rain, which muddied the grounds the night prior.
'Oh, the winters in New York City,' he thought whimsically. There were ones to be reckoned with. Charles smiled gently as he recalled the lights lining Central Park, and the tree in Rockefeller Center. Suddenly the window and the study felt far away. Memories of Christmas as a child came rushing back: window shopping on Fifth Avenue, a windy walk to midnight Mass at St. Patrick's Cathedral. The memories could transfix him, transporting his shattered heart to a time of simplicity and his sour mood to one of nostalgia.
That was until he stepped outside into the snow. That's when he would remember the aforementioned wind, the harsh piercing air of January was unforgiving. It could whip a harrowing chill straight through the bones of those brave enough to reside here year-round. But Charles Brooks was one of those brave, wasn't he?
Don't start on this tonight, he pleaded with himself.
While rubbing the moisture from his plum tinted eyelids he turned around to search for his glass. The same clear glass, filled with the same amber whiskey, used to chase the same old loneliness. Another long night working after the children had fallen asleep, led to another night of drinking alone. But was anything different when she was here? No, he knew that it wasn't. If only he could learn that this was not a game worth playing. The 'would of, could of, should have' game. It paved the way for the loneliness he'd tried hard to suppress for months now to return. It had been almost a year since Pauline left and here, he was, still playing.
The first few weeks after her abandonment he was scarcely able to function. There was a numbness to his forlorn existence and it wasn't until he was watching his two daughters preform at their recital four months into Pauline's abandonment that he realized, she was never coming back. The realization shook him, turning his numbness to agony, his agony to apathy, and his apathy to… what was this he felt now? Emptiness perhaps? Now his heart was a strange being. Locked somewhere between depression and acceptance, heartache and heartless, severed yet mending. The pieces of his heart were being sutured back together with the hands of time, almost whole, yet different than before.
Sure, he could think of her easier now, but he preferred not to. The pain of her loss was nothing compared to his anger of her presence. And while it would take him years to get over what she did to him, he knew it would take a lifetime to forgive what she did to their girls.
But late at night what else was there to do besides think? Maybe this whole situation with Pauline was his fault. But at the end of the day he hadn't left, and he hadn't run away. Some nights it felt as if the heavy boulder residing on his chest would finally give way and he'd die slowly from asphyxiation.
He failed his marriage sure, but now he was failing his girls, his company, and even himself. Most nights the whiskey was enough to keep those insecurities at bay. It'd drown out the inner voices until he fell into a dark lifeless sleep that offered him the solace of thoughtlessness.
Titling the glass towards his mouth he tossed back the liquid freely, hoping for the latter when,
*BUZZZZZZ*
A sound penetrated the silence, shocking him out of the bizarre haze he sunken into. The scotch jolted with his hand, thrashing against the side of the glass, out of it, and across the pages of the manuscript that lay open on his desk.
Damn it! He cursed aloud.
This manuscript was supposed to be finished and given a final go ahead by tomorrow morning.
Pulling the navy-blue pocket square, which was mainly for decoration, from his suit he dabbed frantically at the pages. The silk like material did little to absorb the already saturated mess in front of him. It began to dye the pages a faint blue and he sighed in frustration, tossing the pocket square towards the ground.
It didn't really matter anyway. Kelsey would be able to email him the PDF tomorrow. He knew she had this novel in every format imaginable. It was her baby, and the new piece she wanted to publish under the 'Sic Lit' Imprint he had created.
It had showed great promise, but he had intended to read the entire thing before giving the final go ahead. While he was beginning to trust Kelsey's judgement as an editor, she had been promoted from an assistant very quickly and was still learning the ropes at his company.
*BUUZZZZZZ*
Grabbing frantically for his phone he offered,
"Charles Brooks," not bothering to look at the caller id. It had become his automated greeting when he answered the phone. One he was sure he picked up from his father's-father years ago.
"CHUCKKK!" Jay screeched into the phone.
Glancing at the clock it was 11:49p.m. And Charles couldn't help but smile. If Jay was still awake at this hour he was either intoxicated or... Nope he was definitely intoxicated.
"Jay," he responded intrigued by what was to come. He transferred the phone from one hand to the other as he shook out of his midnight blue jacket, tossing it on the chair across his desk.
"Wheree areee youu?" Jay slurred, lingering on the final syllable of each word.
"I take it you went to Bob's party?" Charles joked, though from the lack of proper enunciation on the other end, he was sure of the answer.
Bob was a mutual friend from his past life. One he hadn't spent much time talking to since Pauline left. Each year Bob threw an annual New Year mixer that was always the talk of the town for months after. But things with him had been strained since the separation. Actually things with everyone had been strained since then. When Pauline left all their mutual friends left with her. Well, almost all of them.
Jay Wilkinson had been the exception. His roommate their first year at Princeton, his best friend their second and since then, he never left his side. Jay didn't walk on egg shells around Charles, as so many of their old acquaintances did. And he also refused to accept Pauline's absence as a "Vacation", but instead saw the betrayal for exactly what it was.
For this and many other things, Charles was eternally grateful.
"And you sir did not!" Jay accused weakly, restating the obvious. "But you should have! It's been a joyyyouss night."
"Sorry Jay, I got caught up with some work stuff and well, - "
"Look man, I need you to meet someone. I met this gorrrgeeouusss woman Ms. Miller and I think well, something is going on at work and..., - "now it was Charles' time to cut him off.
"Look buddy, if you really want to introduce me to someone for work," he began, not entirely convinced that this woman even wanted a job, "let's do that tomorrow when there's not so much, ah, joy involved", he offered unable to hold back his smirk.
Jay was the kind of guy who would fall in love week after week. A hopeless romantic some would call him, but Charles thought rather foolish. Whether he was wiser than Jay or just more bitter he couldn't' decide. But what was the point of committing yourself to someone forever, if they could just leave whenever they wanted to anyway? No warning no apologizes- just gone.
Was love even worth the risk when it always resulted in pain?
Charles shouldn't have been surprised; Jay did this often. He'd meet a young woman, try to get her hired somewhere to impress her, fall head over heels in love and somehow still end up alone. But he never gave up and if it weren't for his past experiences, Jay's tenacity would be infectious.
Regardless of his personal feelings though, he knew he didn't have any positions to fill at work. Diana had just hired a new assistant last week, and Kelsey had been promoted weeks ago to fill the vacant junior editor role.
But if this woman was important to Jay, perhaps he could use his connections to find her something at another company? Although, considering Jay was a publisher, just as he was, he was unsure what position he could offer this woman that Jay could not.
"Let's do a late lunch?" Charles suggested, wanting to show he was sincere about hearing him out. "And hey, be careful out there tonight it's snowing like crazy," he added.
"Purrrfeecctt," Jay replied half-heartedly now more interested in joining in on a conversation he wasn't privy too.
Charles hung up, undoing the collar to his white button-down shirt so he could loosen his striped tie. At least now he had something to look forward to tomorrow. There were only a few things on the agenda for the day. Most importantly he had a meeting to prepare for at work, and then he just needed to touch base with Diana's new assistant. Eliza… ah, what was her name?
Moving the soaked manuscript to the side he searched his desk for the note Kelsey left. The meet and greet tomorrow wouldn't take long. It was a formality whenever his company hired someone new, one he meant to partake in last week when the young woman was hired. But he had decided against it because Diana had developed a most unfortunate turnover rate of assistants in the last six weeks.
He'd barely have a chance to learn their names before Diana fired her latest assistant, and was onto the next. Charles wondered if she was punishing him for promoting Kelsey, inadvertently taking her away from Diana, or if the pool of qualified candidates really was shrinking. Kelsey, a green eyed, five-foot four blonde, could tackle any issue with a wisdom beyond her 26 years and In retrospect she probably should've been promoted out from Diana sooner.
Moving a stack of manila folders, he found the sticky note from Kelsey,
*Read this script by Friday morning it's perfect for us!
*Meet the new assistant Eliza Miller SOMETIME this week,
(Liza for short- she doesn't like being called Eliza),
And be nice please, I like this one!"
Sometimes she would still leave him notes about a meeting or a conference call. The job of an assistant was no longer her responsibility, but the entire company was important to Kelsey. It was one of the reasons he promoted her so quickly. This was the first candidate that Kelsey had spoken up for and He figured if Kelsey liked this one, this Liza, then he may as well give her a chance.
Besides she had lasted past the first week and in Diana's language that spoke volumes.
The howling wind crackling the frozen tree branches outside screeched against the window pane, grabbing his attention. When he walked over to the bay window he starred down into the street lights below. Trying to stare past the faint reflection of his peppering hair, he gazed into the night.
The snow was still falling, though it had lost its cylindrical appeal and now just fell like blobs of white cotton. As he starred into the snow he wondered if his eyes were imagining things. Surely there would be no one out in this storm. But as he allowed them to focus on the object, he realized he had not been deceived.
There in the orange and coral street lights was a silhouette dancing, gradually getting closer to the front of his building. Coming from his far left, it was twirling, as the snow had done not long before, in a downward, sideways, then upwards motion. It danced in a manner so angular and delicate, it was downright graceful as it sliced through the evening air.
His eyes scanned the street searching for some other witness to this strange event. But when he saw no one else partaking, he wondered if he was intruding. His lips parted slightly, his breathing hitched, and as he exhaled it produced a fog on the glass in front of him. Though he paid his creation no mind and focused on the lines her long limbs traced through the air. They were like brushes illustrating a blank canvas only she was privy too.
The aesthetic pleasure granted by her movement left him immobilized, a paralyzed receiver of her art. She continued dancing, bewitching him entirely, while painting a portrait of interlacing strokes with her body. The strokes were either suffocating or freeing her, he wasn't sure. But either way, what he saw when she danced was such a weightless control, it looked like she was flying. His heart leap in his chest as she jumped through the snow, soaring higher into the air, and he felt he was a part of this masterpiece unfolding before him.
He couldn't bring himself to look away from her. With this stranger he was sharing something more intimate than he experienced in the early years of his marriage. She smiled to no one, as she closed her eyes and titled her head back to the sky. Why did she dance, and why, God why, was she alone? The snow fell as the wind whistled, and she twirled towards his building as the air rushed, taking the long dark curls away from her face.
Her chocolate brown eyes opened slowly, scanning along the windows of his building, and into the night sky. Whether she was unaffected by his presence or just unaware she showed no mind and balanced upon her toes as she turned again.
The cotton blobs now gradually increasing in flow were dancing down around her pirouettes, creating two bodies: one of flesh, and one of snow, both gliding together in unison. The flakes sliding down through the air, defied by gravity, dropped onto her milky white skin and vanished instantly. For perhaps they knew they held no weight in the contest of beauty.
As if she could hear his inner most thoughts she looked up again, into the bay window. Her heart and inner passion oozing from her body as she swayed. But when their eyes locked, she paused briefly and nodded as if offering him a token of understanding before continuing her movement. Unsure what to do, he nodded back confused by the hex he appeared to be under. Should he not feel embarrassed? She was so content it was as if she had danced for him alone.
Subconsciously he placed his hand upon the glass fighting an overwhelming desire to reach out and touch her. But the glass while preventing him from accessing the ethereal goddess that danced before him, sheltered him from the disemboweling pain that came with falling in love. For he knew in that moment, as he watched her brown eyes close once more, and turn from him with such an artistic act of finality, that he could love her. That God, he could love once more.
{Liza}
"Liza! You're incredible! You can't give up on this… on this gift, you've been given!" Maggie cheered from across the street.
Liza continued the end of her routine she had made up more than twenty years ago, still lost in her own thoughts.
'Was that … no', Liza thought to herself as she stretched her finger tips as far away from her hand as possible. She couldn't bring herself to look back up at the window now. But lost in the mist of her dance she swore that she saw someone staring at her from the window above. And while she hadn't known him long, that face was one she'd recognize anywhere.
"Josh, I told you she was great, didn't I?" Maggie prodded, grabbing her friends elbow to shake him out of his stupor.
'Had she just seen the head of Empirical, Charles Brookes, watching her dance? Did he nod to her, and Why did he look so sad'? she pondered.
"You're like a dancing goddess or something! You can't just quit on this to just work with books!" Josh chided encouragingly, when Liza finally finished gliding and walked over.
Josh and Maggie began clapping excitedly, finally taking her from her thoughts.
"Ha-ha, thanks," Liza shrugged.
It had been barely a week since Liza landed her job at Empirical, and they were worried she would be giving up on her dreams too soon. While Josh knew that he didn't understand much about dance, he knew art, and watching her dance could make them feel things.
"I'm not young anymore Josh," she laughed, scooping up snow from the ground and tossing it lightly into the air toward him playfully. "Not all of us have the luxury of being 26 and living our art!" she teased, laughing at the mocked horror he expressed from the snowball.
"Maggie lives her art and she's your age Li! But hey if you can pretend to be 26 to get into publishing, why can't you be 26 to get back into dancing?" Josh challenged.
Josh and Maggie had lived together until about a year ago, when Josh's tattoo business finally took off. Thankfully it led the way to a re-opened bedroom in Maggie's' apartment. But the three had created a lasting friendship during Josh's time there. One that had proven very useful in Liza's work life.
"Look, it's complicated J, the dancing now was just, well it was a gag. I can't have another wrench thrown into things. Diana said I'm officially meeting Mr. Brooks tomorrow, which according to Kelsey is a big deal." Liza felt a warmth burning in her cheeks, as she imagined those eyes again.
"Besides," she continued, "I've never danced the same since the accident…" drifting off in her own thoughts, she left the story unfinished.
'Does Mr. Brooks even know who I am? Maybe he hasn't even recognized me at the office? Oh, God or maybe he has! Is that why he was watching me? But when it looked at me, it was almost as if...'
"That, was not, a gag!" Josh countered, but recalling something else she said he stopped and changed direction, "Wait, what accident?" he questioned, but Maggie interrupted,
"Let's go back to the apartment, or shall I say, our new apartment," Maggie encouraged playfully, pushing Liza with her free arm. "It's pretty late and you have a big day tomorrow!"
Josh closed his mouth, understanding the story was not one he was going to hear tonight.
"There are few things better than having this one for a roommate," Josh added, linking arms with Maggie. As Josh and Maggie continued towards her new apartment something in her heart strings willed Liza to turn around. Not out of any sort of fear or embarrassment, as she probably should have felt. But it was something more, magnetic. It was as if she was being pulled backward against her better judgement.
{Charles}
'Don't turn around', Charles pleaded, 'please don't turn around'. His heart was beating frantically, and he wasn't sure he could bear it. In the months since Pauline's absence he had felt anger, sorrow, apathy, and rage, but not this. This woman made him feel... An emotion barely smoldering beneath the charred remains of his heart. The one emotion he thought he had extinguished once and for all.
Hope.
All he wanted was for her to disappear into the darkness and to remember the entire encounter as a beautiful dream. Perhaps one he could cling to on the cold winter nights, when the whiskey wasn't kind. But when his eyes followed her, she joined two larger silhouettes in the distance and he realized, she was never alone at all.
Unwilling to ponder any more questions about his behavior or allow himself to feel any more inklings of emotions banned long ago, he set down his glass, flipped off the light and went to bed; decidedly leaving the beautiful creature outside in peace, unscathed from the wraiths of his tortured past. For he knew, the only gift he could bestow upon something so beautiful, the only one he had left to give, was his absence.
{LIZA}
"I'll be right behind you!" Liza offered, watching Josh and Maggie walk away. She could fight the magnetic pull no longer, and her heart willed her body on as she turned back towards the building. The one that could potentially house her bosses, boss. But further the person she had just shared a moment with, a moment she could not explain.
Ignoring her mind, her better judgement and perhaps her sanity, she whirled around searching frantically, scanning the identical structures for the one that housed the eyes. Part of her wanted to see if she had simply imagined him there, or if his eyes would still be there, the ones that for a moment, peered directly into her soul.
When she found that bay window at last, she sighed defeated, as the last remaining light shut off.