After the murder of Andrew, back on the trail after 'recuperating', Olivia is slaying dragons and burning enemies. She's back to being a gladiator but there's something off.
Chapter One
"Mellie, I really need you to focus on this, now I understand that Teddy being sick while he's with Fitz is worrying, but he clearly said he's been fine since this morning. It's 4pm and we have a live TV interview in less than 24hours. I can not stress how important this interview is, it would be disastrous if you made even one slip."Millie continued to ignore Olivia typing furiously on her cellphone. Feeling agitated and annoyed Olivia closed her eyes, but immediately snapped them open to glance around the room at the rest of the campaign workers, they seemed to exist in a different plane than she and her candidate. Her gladiators were clustered around a computer laughing at something, she couldn't even begin to imagine what it was seeing as she hadn't really interacted with them past work for several weeks. She felt isolated, she felt overwhelmed, she felt guilty but most of all she felt misunderstood.
The campaign aids and volunteers gave her a wide bert and avoided any and all interactions with her, she knew they called her cold and detached, she'd even heard the term frigid bounced around. She was neither of those things, she was a deep dark carven of emotions, potent and powerful emotions that so far have destroyed her and deprived her of the few joys she had in her life.
"Olivia!" She turned her head slowly to Mellie who was holding a script that held questions that were likely to be posed during the interview.
"Yes Mellie?" She asked slowly her gaze already shifting away from the petulant expression on Mellie's face knowing nothing good would come from it.
"How can I do well in this interview if you don't coach me on my performance. Olivia I know you're life is dark and depressing, but I need you to focus so I can win this thing." The taunts Mellie had been throwing at her since 'the incident' had been the cause of many count downs in Olivia's head. The numbers 1 through 10 had become her life line to her sanity; the result of over five hours on the internet, and the only doable action her Google searches gave her to control her anger. She didn't want to be that person again, at least that's what everyone kept telling her.
"I apologize Mellie . I heard everything you said, shall we continue? I don't think we should comment on Susan negatively, we have to remain above the fray. She's a woman you're a woman remember? We agreed on sisterhood." Olivia was tired of reciting the same sentences that just did not seem to take in Mellie's mind.
"Oh to hell with being nice, she's leading me by twelve points in todays polls. 12 Olivia, we cannot afford that margin to get bigger. Anyway you agreed to 'sisterhood' when you cut that stupid deal with Fitz' new mascot. What do I care? Just because we share body parts doesn't mean, I'm her cheerleader." The energy it would take to respond to those statements was taking too long to gather in her system so she sighed in relief when Marcus spoke up.
"Mrs Grant with all due respect, you need to stop talking about the political strategy that benefits you like it's a made up game. If you do remember correctly you did sign a contract with the Ross campaign agreeing to "clean references and interactions between the candidates, both on and off air." You can not be caught saying stuff like that." Olivia knew that Marcus had become the voice of reason that reached Mellie in ways she couldn't, she appreciated it but she wanted very little knowledge on how that came to be. It felt too close to home. Especially when after staring at each other for more than necessary Mellie threw her arms up in the air and declared she needed a break, while swiftly grabbing her phone and walking out.
She could feel everyone watching her, she knew they expected her to do or say something but the truth is she was glad Mellie left, she wanted to leave.
"Let's take 30 everyone." She grabbed her coat and her travel mug that instead of coffee held black herbal tea that was supposed to sooth her crossed nerves. They were in California for what BNN had lauded as America's most honest interaction with Mellie Grant. It wasn't catchy but it had certainly pulled interest, of course most of which were negative but interest non the less. Olivia glanced across the street at the few stores and apartments that populated this relatively quiet and serene town. Very different from he chaos of DC, it was disconcerting, Her skin felt like it was being peeled every time a person smiled and walked past her with a friendly hello. It all felt wrong out here, she had no drive to gladiate. She needed the chaos of DC to fuel her, being out here was reminding her of how tired she is, yet they were stuck here for three more days.
Karen was supposed to arrive by eight tonight and she would spend these next couple days after the interview bonding with her mother. A suggestion made by her therapist that both her parents were eager to comply with.
"If you could go anywhere in the world where would you be?" The suddenness of the memory shook Olivia to her core, the innocence of that moment did not belong to her right now, yet she was powerless to stop it from continuing.
"Anywhere? Does that mean anytime?" Olivia asked as she gazed across the short coffee table, covered in their breakfast. He was dressed for the day, dark blue coat neatly pressed, the only thing missing was his red tie. In comparison to Olivia's disheveled curly hair and white bath robe. He smiled at her and pressed his thumb deeper into the arc of her foot that he held captive.
"I guess we can add anytime. I really want to know the answer to this." He squeezed her feet patiently as he waited for her to gather her thoughts.
"I would go back to being nine years old, in the middle of the summer, sitting in a gazebo behind my grandfather's house with my mom. She used to have weekly gatherings with her friends every time we stayed in July. There was sweet tea, and little crumply biscuits. They was never any sugar in them because my mom's friend Celia had awful allergies to processed sugars. We would all be dressed up, my mom would make sure my pigtails were straight and fuss over me before her friends showed up, there were three of them. Celia, Rain and Zainab. They would fuss over me just as much as my mom if not more and we always had the best conversations. Never about school because that's my father, but they told me about their lives. Rain owned a jam store. She was my favorite."
She had gone off so far in her memory she forgot about FItz's presence. He was looking at her with a small grin around and lifted brows.
"Jam store, Rain? Huh you never know." He said and continued to run his hand up and down her feet.
"Huh what? That's it. No other comments." He raised a brow at her and smiled with a shrug.
"I just wanted to know. Thanks for sharing." He patted my foot one last time before standing and walking towards the bed where his tie lay.
The wind picking up drew her out of the memory, causing her to realize she had wondered farther down the street than she had intended. She looked at her watch to check how much time she had before she continued on down the street. Her heels clacked on the brick side walk as picked up her speed to get to the coffee shop she saw down the street. She needed the boost, she couldn't survive the campaign and Mellie for four hours without coffee. She was just within the reach of the coffee shop when another store caught her eye and she walked past the door that opened into the smell of coffee, towards the colorful sign hanging from an archway. She pulled the glass door open and the bell above it chimed softly causing her to hesitate even more at walking into the store. She continued into the store using her locks as a shield from the happy old lady sitting behind the counter when she greeted her.
"I'm just looking." She responding twirling and moving to the back of the store where hopefully the item she was looking for would be there. The little trinkets and old furniture gave way to shelves that held swatches of fabric.
This had become her thing in DC, the day she was forced to finally face everyone else after the incident, she had wandered down the streets of DC for hours after discussing the after effects of her actions. She had wandered from store to store until she came across an antic clothing store. It was quaint and looked like it needed a good refurbishing, but it felt comforting. Old and abandoned stuff turned into treasures, she admired the handwork that brought these things back to life.
This particular store was unlike any she had found in DC, it seemed to be mostly old jewelry and fabric.
She reached her arm out to touch the ivory lace shawl that hung from the side of the shelve, it looked old and fragile, yet it reminded her of youth and beauty.
"That one always seems to catch people's eye." Olivia pulled her hand back quickly and turned with a tight smile towards the gray haired woman who was shuffling closer to her.
"I'm sorry I was just looking." Olivia offered stepping back and clutching her mug in both her hands, she didn't want to touch anything.
"Now honey you look with your eyes not your hands. That seems to be something you have a problem with." Olivia raised her brows at the accusation in the smaller woman's voice.
"Oh don't let this old biddy body fool you, I know all about you. I recognized you the moment you stepped it. You the home wrecker that destroyed the big mans family. Now though you running his wife's campaign" By the end of the woman statement everything sounded like it was coming through a tunnel of water for Olivia.
She took a step back from the approaching woman who seemed to be set in her course towards her. "What aren't you going to saying anything for yourself? I told my grandson if I ever met either of you I wouldn't be afraid to speak my mind and now I get to call him and tell him I did tonight. He won't believe it." Olivia turned her gaze back towards the fabric avoiding the steady green calculating gaze, that was magnified behind thick square rims.
"How much is it?" Her voice sounded stranger to her ears as if it hadn't been used in ages. This was a side effect she had found, to the questioning, judgmental eyes that constantly followed her.
"This piece of lace is from an 19th century wedding veil. It's very precious." Old bent fingers speckled with age lines reached up and fingered the fine design.
"How much is it?" Olivia asked again this time louder and stronger as she straightened her back.
"It's not for sale, to you. I don't know what you would have need of it for since you no longer with the big man. The sign on the door says Needy Antics, now you won't be needing no ivory veil anytime soon."
The urge came back to Olivia so quickly she had to shut her eye against the judgement of the old woman, she started to count down from ten in he head, fast numbers that matched the spiked beats of her heart. As the number tumbled out of her subconscious to her conscious mind, she found the rhythmic pattern of her breathing again, then her heart beat and finally her feet in reality with her eyes opening to greet not the face of the old lady.
That was two weeks ago, but her hand was still clutching the door handle of the bathroom in the campaign head quarters. Her fingers molding to the silver metal so tightly she couldn't feel them, she was quick to drop her hand as another knock sounded reminding her it was time to go back to her reality.
The hallucinations were realistic and an odd blend of her childhood memories of her mother and her broken self in the present.
"I'll be right out Quinn." She said brushing her fingers across the bridge of her nose.
"Okay pleas hurry, Mellie is getting nasty again, Marcus can't call her." She heard Quinns footsteps drift away and turned to give herself a once over. Her dark blue dress was still perfectly pressed, her jewelry was still in place and the blood stains she had seen in her reflection of the window out side the antique store had disappeared, and in its place a fresh coat of make up.