Annabelle sighed as she walked out onto the roof top balcony of her home in the Eastern side of Essex dressed in a black skirt, sleek black hoody and her favourite blood coloured jacket, topped off with the black heels she never intended to return to Chelsea. The loud roaring traffic below hit her before the cold winter's wind as she shuffled over to the unreliable railing. It had been half of a decade since she had completed her time at St Trinians and she hadn't achieved all that she had wanted to when she had drove away from her inheritance on her last day of term. Fritton had wanted to do a wide range of things which included joining Chelsea for the Paris fashion shows, help Kelly in the fight against the foolish wannabe villains and she was even prepared to allow Polly to teach her in the ways of Geek. Annabelle Fritton had done none of these things; instead she tracked down her loveable rouge.
Shoving her hands in pockets, the young Fritton peered over the edge to gaze upon the traffic. She had always found comfort on the roof tops of buildings; it had always helped the woman think clearly without being disrupted by pesky First Years or petty tribal based arguments. At this moment in time, all Fritton wanted to do was think and wallow in her own misery. Kelly would've called her every name in the book if the agent was able to see the mood her friend was in, the legendary Head Girl would've probably slapped her if the case was that extreme. But Kelly couldn't see her, Annabelle reminded herself mentally with a sigh, Kelly was busy house training Flash Harry.
With a groan of annoyance, Annabelle threw her hands down forcefully onto the edge of the crumbling railing, causing it to rattle, and she looked down at the street lights with the same interest as a light hunger moth would. This was all Roxy's fault; if that girl had just left the school or avoided Belle after the treasure hunt then Annabelle wouldn't be feeling like this. The girl would've gone to Paris and Rome and even the Moon if Polly and Lucy had gotten their way, instead of chasing after Roxy all over America. It was Roxy's fault that their relationship had gone to the dogs, Annabelle mused, and Roxy was the one who didn't give it her all.
The brunette's eyes slowly drifted over to her ring finger and her thumb unconsciously began to rub the small infinite symbol that was permanently painted there as a symbol of what was and could have been. She would never get over the way everything ended suddenly and messily. Poor, defenceless Annabelle had always believed love to be such a simple affair, now she wasn't so sure. What Annabelle wanted was what her idol Kelly Jones had, she wanted a kind and caring fiancée, an inviting house with a dog and future prospects of having a family. The St Trinian didn't want the roller-coaster ride, on off relationship that she had been in with Roxy for five years. Even though the Indie rocker had caused her delicate heart to ache on many occasions, Belle couldn't help but continue to love her.
If Belle had been luckily enough to wear a ring on her ring finger, she would hastily tore it from her and thrown it with all her might into the rush hour traffic. Instead of rings, she and Roxy had decided that a tattoo was more appropriate to demonstrate and express that they belonged to each other only. Fritton would never forget the day she boldly walked into the tattoo parlour in New Orleans, slapped her left hand down and pointed at her ring finger. She had felt so empowered that day, especially when her carefree rocker began to look faint at the sight of the tattoo artist and his tools. Naturally, Annabelle didn't have an issue with the pain of the tattoo. Compared to Roxy's experience, it was over quickly. Fritton couldn't help but smile fondly at the memory; it was her favourite one to relive in her dreams. That was back when Belle loved the sight of Roxy, now she couldn't bear to look at her without feeling her heart well up with hurt.
Annabelle growled in frustration, all she wanted to was forget Roxy (she also wanted to punch the girl but she had already been arrested for assault once before). No matter what Fritton did, no matter who Fritton was with, Roxy was always at the front of her mind. Roxy, Roxy, Roxy. In anguish, the anarchy warrior gripped at her hair with her head in her hands. Tonight wasn't going to be her typical evening in front of the telly with a glass of white wine in her hand and a box of Thornton's chocolate on her lap. Instead she was faced with two choices, sit and mope about how relationships are always going to end in tears or she could get off her face with the rest of her St Trinian family. Annabelle chose the latter.
With a huff of inconvenience, Fritton marched back into her building and down to her flat with her hands curled into tight fists. The desperate girl threw open her front door and barged into her room. Her purpose instantly became a distant memory as she surveyed her disarranged sheets that Roxy had always insisted on straightening out. That was one of her favourite places, lounging around in bed with her lover's arms wrapped around her as she drifted off to sleep. It was also where Roxy used to snore, where Roxy used to smirk mischievously, where Roxy used to start play fights. Roxy, Roxy, Roxy. There was no escape and it was beginning to drive Belle insane.
With the shake of her head and a quick grab for her bag, Annabelle rushed from the room and her flat, knocking over a burnt looking waste basket. Annabelle used the metal bin a week earlier as a fire pit to burn most of Roxy's sheet music as revenge for effectively breaking her fragile heart, as she always did in the vicious cycle of their relationship. Annabelle was distraught when she had spotted Roxy tumbling into their local, laughing and joking with somebody else with her arms wrapped around their neck. The tormented girl had simply glared at the cheating pair and stormed out; when she got home she had trashed their flat with tears streaming from her eyes. Then, when Roxy had walked through the front door, all of the Head Girl's self-control had disappeared and she flipped, resulting in a trashed flat and a small yet contained fire.
Walking away from her trashed flat was doing nothing for her constant stream of memories about everything she loved about Roxy's personalities; if anything, it was making them worse. She should've read the signs sooner; Belle had noticed that the usual smile had been replaced by a constant scowl on her rocker's face. The usual light hearted banter between the two had evaporated into nothingness as well but Belle refused to believe her head and followed her heart, only to be lead to her heart ache. Annabelle needed a drink.
The first thing the strong, independent St Trinian saw when she walked in was an exasperated bartender fussing over a rowdy group of women at the bar. A ghost of a smile garnished Annabelle Fritton's face as she pushed her shoulders back, held her head up high and strutted over to them. Her smile lit up her face at the chorus of her friends' greeting and she immediately embraced both Kelly Jones and Chelsea Parker. All thoughts of Roxy had finally been extinguished as she stood and gossiped with her two close friends.
They talked of everything and anything they could think of for a few hours until the subject of Roxy was eventually brought up by Chelsea during their conversation about how Flash managed to stutter and fumble through his proposal to Kelly. Every emotion that the fragile Fritton had suppressed over the past week came bubbling up to the surface at a rapid pace, Belle wasn't able to hide the pain of her cold aching heart on her face. Even if she had managed to hide her pain, Kelly would have seen through it. The agent was trained to trained body language and she was the Kelly Jones, nothing ever escaped the spy's sight and nothing had ever been slipped under her radar. It wasn't Kelly who pulled Annabelle into a tight hug, she preferred to get the full story and access the situation democratically before her own version of reassurance. Chelsea was the first to react and the first to pull Annabelle into a tight hug. "Her loss," Chelsea mumbled into Belle's ear before the blonde was torn from her arms.
What Annabelle had failed to notice in her temporarily Roxy free thoughts, was Roxy. Her estranged lover had been sat with a vodka in hand, watching Annabelle repeatedly embrace the blonde linguine model. Seeing red and fuelled by her intense jealousy, Roxy charged forward and pulled Chelsea away from her own bouncing brunette. Before the enraged Indie could inflict physical pain onto the blonde she found herself instantly being restrained and thrown out, shouting out insults and threats as she went. Roxy landed on her shoulder as she hit the pavement but that didn't deter her, springing back up, she then challenged Kelly. "Enough!" Annabelle yelled in a desperate effort to restore order. "Kelly, go back inside."
"What happened to the timid new girl that didn't dare to order around her aunt's dog?" Kelly questioned with a perfectly arched brow.
"She got tired of being pushed around now get back inside before I drag Tania and Tara out here. They're apparently ruthless Head Girls these days."
"I'm shaking in my boots," Kelly quipped before turning her gaze onto a glaring Roxy. "You know, your face will stay like that if you leave it long enough."
"Kelly," Belle warned.
"Alright," Jones shrugged. "You could have picked someone more sociable though."
"You're one to talk," Roxy snarled. "Getting engaged to a stuttering fool."
"I'll admit, he is a fool, but he's a loyal fool." Kelly spat venomously. "You already crossed the line when you ran off with that Italian; don't dig yourself any deeper, you'll find yourself disappearing if you carry on." Kelly then turned on her heel and strutted off.
Annabelle turned to face the girl who had occupied her thoughts without mercy for the past few days. She couldn't explain the draw she had to Roxy; she couldn't tell you whether or not it was true love. What Annabelle could tell you is that whatever it was, it was a powerful magic. "You have a lot of making up to." The brunette stated as she stepped willingly into Roxy's arms.
"I know." She answered, closing her arms around her Fritton and sealing the embrace with a kiss.
What I should've wrote in the description was "Basically, yeah, Annabelle is lyk well mad cause lyk Roxy was all lyk 'yeah I'll cheat' then it's all lyk, Kel is a cow and they lyk kiss and make up"
Review because the Head Boy of the local boarding school labelled me a Chav earlier, my natural response was naturally witty