Title: From the Ashes
Disclaimer: If I owned 90210, instead of bringing on these random "celebrity" guest stars, I would be begging and paying Dustin Milligan to come back. Naomi could really use him and their bubble right about now. With that said, I own nothing.
Spoilers: 3x02 Age of Inheritance
Notes: It's short and isn't polished, but something that begged to be written.
Summary: She left her party, her eighteenth birthday extravaganza, for her best friend, to save her best friend. Naomi Clark has been rejected, but not by Cannon, by her best friend, by Silver. Post-3x02
From the Ashes
It all feels so disgustingly familiar.
Naomi shoves the memories back to that tiny space in the back of her mind. She's spent all summer trying to master the ability to file away each memory, the way he broke her physically with each rough shove and caress, and the way he broke her mentally with each whisper, each threat, each truth. Refusing tears and recollections, Naomi walks even faster down the hallway, trying to keep her mind on the sound her heels make with each stab at the tile floor. She thinks about that and nothing else.
Once she gets to the classroom, Naomi peers into the glass window. She sees Silver sitting at his side, that monster, a devil wearing human flesh. Naomi can't help, but think that's what she must have looked like, watching his stupid documentary upon first arriving that night last year. She presses her teeth hard into her bottom lip and mentally curses because she can feel those fucking tears ready to fucking fall.
How she wishes someone had peered into this very window and seen her in her red dress and Cannon wanting to hold her hand. She wishes someone could have seen. She wishes someone could have saved her.
Mustering the little courage she has left, Naomi marches in and demands to talk to Silver outside. The annoyance and reluctance is clear on Silver's face, but Naomi chooses to ignore it. If life were a movie, this would most definitely be the rescue scene. Silver might not see it at the moment, but she will. Naomi is sure of it.
Out in the hallway, words are being thrown left and right. Naomi knows it's a losing battle when Silver starts parroting words she's sure Cannon spoon-fed her best friend. Silver is on the offensive and Naomi is trying to unclench her jaw and finally say the words, words that, even in simple thought, make her crumble again and again. Naomi can feel Silver slipping farther and farther away and desperation is never pretty on a lady, but she'd rather lose her pride than her best friend.
He raped me.
In comes the silence, the tense, heart-stopping silence. It brings Naomi a thrill of hope because she's seen this episode. It's the point in the rape storyline where the best friend finally puts all of the pieces together – notably her behavior lately – and sees the bigger picture. Silver should see Cannon for what he is – a pathetic, disgusting bastard – and they'll embrace and things will finally be okay.
One glance at Silver's face says otherwise.
Silver doesn't believe her.
Of course, she wouldn't.
After all, Naomi Clark is the girl who cried wolf.
When Silver verbally displays her disbelief coated in disgust, Naomi feels everything crumble around her. The color drains from her face and her need for perfect posture is wiped away as her shoulders slump down and she stares at the floor. As Silver walks away, back to that thing, choosing that monster over her best friend, Naomi can't bare to watch. She just listens to the sound of Silver's heels. The greater the distance between them, the sound slowly dies, just like their friendship.
Naomi feels her legs start to wobble and her hands immediately go to the wall of cold, metal lockers. She leans there a moment, her face turned down and her blonde locks fanning around her face. She mentally goes through the steps of breathing (inhale, pause, exhale, repeat) because thinking of anything else just hurts too damn much.
The tears finally fall and the sobs aren't too far behind.
Somehow Naomi makes her way back to her car and she isn't exactly sure how that even happened. Her vision is blurred and her legs are so weak they feel ready to snap beneath her weight.
There's loud crying and closed fists slamming into the steering wheel once safely inside her car, sure the doors are securely locked. She shakes her head from side to side and presses her teeth firmly together, breathing to inflate and deflate her cheeks. All the while, she tries so damn hard to figure out how the hell all of this came to be.
Less than an hour ago, Naomi had been at her party, patrolling, commanding, relishing, like the old Naomi, the Naomi she wants and needs to be. She remembers being happy for the first time in so long, basking in the security that is her trust fund, watching on as classmates nibble on divine cookies with her face on it and enjoy the Honey Brothers (the yummy drummer is so hers).
Naomi remembers laughing a little to herself, seeing Annie across the room, talking to some guy. She finds the sight funny because not too long ago Liam had been making a big scene (that the two of them probably considered a romantic gesture) and asked for her permission to date. It stung a little more than she thought yet it hadn't been a surprise at all.
She had given her consent. Nowadays Naomi has bigger things on her mind. Plus, she knows the both of them. Poor Annie seems to like her sloppy seconds and Liam, who even knows what motives he has for his erratic behavior these days. Annie talking to this new guy only proves Naomi right (but when is she not?).
Something had snapped within her at the casual mention of Silver being with Mr. Cannon.
It, quite frankly, ruined her night.
Naomi hadn't meant to grab that metaphorical doorknob and pull, releasing all of Adrianna and Annie's skeletons. Truthfully, at the very thought of history repeating itself with Silver of all people, Naomi lost her footing. She dropped her mask and if anyone could sneak past her walls and see the truth, it'd be Ade. Naomi couldn't have that happen. She panicked.
Naomi could feel her secret slipping and so she attacked. It's become her default lately.
As her breathing finally slows and the tears dry on her cheeks, Naomi thinks back to Silver's words in the hallway, during that rescue that somehow transformed into a showdown without her knowing. Naomi knows Silver is just hurt and confused so she's striking out. Naomi knows because she's exactly the same way. In her head, Naomi's even willing to take the blame for that one (along with Teddy, of course).
But she left her party.
Naomi Clark ditched her eighteen-birthday extravaganza.
For Silver.
For her best friend. To save her best friend.
And somehow it all blew up in her face.
Naomi hears the words again, the rationalization Silver has created in her head to explain what hasn't been explained to her, what confuses her. Silver always has to put names to things and have everything in order. Confusion means chaos. Chaos means over-thinking and obsessing and for Silver that can lead to even more dangerous things.
It hurt. Every word is a bullet and each pierced Naomi in her heart thought to be dormant.
In truth, Naomi Clark has been rejected, but not by Cannon. She's been rejected by her best friend, by Silver. And that hurts so much more than losing any boy she's ever been remotely interested in.
Naomi isn't ignorant. She knows when she's spiraling, when she's about to hit rock bottom. She also knows that her usual list of people that help bring her head back above water, she's offended in some way during the coarse of this night, her birthday no less.
Pulling her phone from her handbag on the passenger seat, Naomi searches her contacts. Honestly, if she deleted every name that hated her in this moment, she would probably only have two numbers left on her speed dial. One would be the person she's calling and the other, her own number to check her voicemail.
It rings once and then twice and then again.
Naomi's anxious to the point where she's fidgeting in her seat.
There's a groan from the other end of the line once the ringing ceases.
"Naomi, like I told you this morning, I will send your birthday gift out first thing in the morning. Promise. Now I need to get some sleep…"
The voice drones on and Naomi is so on edge and disoriented that she can barely recognize the time flashing right at her beside the radio dial, much less even consider the time difference between California and Montana.
"E—Ethan…"
Her voice cracks and she's too weak and hurt to even care about something as trivial as that. After all, it's Ethan Ward on the other line. He isn't the type to use her weaknesses as ammunition. Instead, he sees them as opportunities to sneak past her walls.
"Naomi?" His voice comes out more alert in that familiar deep rasp. Closing her eyes, Naomi listens to him speak; she feels a rush of warmth and comfort, as if he were in this very car with his arms wrapped tight around her. "Naomi, what is it? What's wrong?"
"Ethan, I lost Silver," Naomi says, trembling in her seat.
"Aw, I'm sure she—"
"She's with Cannon."
Sometimes Naomi wonders why it had been so easy to tell Ethan Ward of all people, especially over the phone and disregarding the obvious that he isn't physically here. They had talked sporadically during the summer, texted each other constantly and one day she had just told him. Being that gentleman she always knew and loved (even fell in love with at one point) he volunteered to fly back to Beverly Hills and stick it out with her in that disgusting motel, to which Naomi had politely refused.
Now, sitting in her car in the high school parking lot, Naomi can just imagine Ethan, sitting on the edge of his bed, jaw clenched and fists formed. After all, they are the original trio and Ethan did fall for Silver a little too hard and a little too fast once upon a time.
"Are they alone?" Ethan asks urgently. "Jesus Christ. It's the middle of the night."
Naomi only nods until she realizes he can't see her. "Yes. They're alone in the school."
Suddenly, Naomi sees someone almost stick figure-like emerge from the school and head over to the lone vespa. Naomi feels this jerk in her stomach and she nearly reaches for the door handle, but she doesn't follow it. Her body doesn't even move. The old Naomi would have been ready for round two, but not this Naomi. Sometimes she doesn't even feel like Naomi Clark at all.
"Don't worry, lover boy," Naomi says. She means for it to sound playful, but her voice comes out completely flat. "I see her. She's fine."
Naomi remembers how she stumbled down the front steps of the school that night. Her red dress had been reduced to shreds, she tripped countless times and she had cried so loud it's almost a crime that no one to heard her.
"So when you said that you lost her…"
Naomi's eyes never leave her friend as she rides off into the night on her vespa, safe and intact.
"I—I told her, Ethan," Naomi hisses through gritting teeth. "I told her and she…she didn't believe me."
There's a long pause and Naomi doesn't expect Ethan to say anything. She's pretty damn sure there isn't anything he could possibly say that would magically make things okay again. If tonight proved anything, it's that the right words mean nothing and people cling on to the wrong ones for dear life.
"Anyways, I need to get back to my party," Naomi sighs with her hand on the keys in the ignition. Before she even moves to start the car, Naomi laughs bitterly. "My party where everyone is celebrating without me. I bet none of them even notice that I'm gone. Then again, everyone there hates me anyways. I'm better off just going straight up to my suite and taking a Xanax or something."
"You know, I don't mind staying up with you," Ethan offers.
"No talking on cell phones. California driving law," Naomi explains. "We don't all have dirt roads and only have to think about crashing into cows like you apparently do, Montana."
Ethan laughs his ever-loud laugh and the sound is almost enough to make Naomi want to attempt a smile, but she doesn't. She can't.
"Put me on speaker," he insists. "I'll keep you company for at least the drive."
"Ethan," Naomi sighs. "It isn't necessary."
"Naomi," he says sternly. "No one should be alone on their birthday."
Again, he nearly gets a smile out of her. Ethan Ward had never been the perfect boyfriend, but he was always sweet and genuine in everything he did and said. His proposal brings her back to a nicer time, a time where everything had been so black and white unlike the muddled present. For a second, Naomi wonders how things would have been different if Ethan stayed instead of going off to Montana. She wonders, but doesn't allow herself to ponder. She doesn't say it aloud either.
"Alright," she finally gives in. Naomi presses a button that puts him on speaker before she carefully puts her phone down. She starts the car and drives off, not even chancing a look at the school where Mr. Cannon could still be, lurking in the shadows like he is in every one of her nightly nightmares.
"You know, Nae, you'll get Silver back," Ethan says. "Eventually, you'll get everything back."
"Hmm, and how can you be so sure?" she asks.
"Because you're Naomi Clark," he replies like it's that simple. "If anyone can, it's you."
Taking a deep, staggering breath, Naomi wants to believe him more than anything.
Naomi had been drowning, drowning in memories and loss and self-doubt and just like that, with the help of Ethan Ward, her savior, she rises and breaks the surface for a direly needed breath.
Maybe it's time to leave the old Naomi in the past. Maybe it's time for a stronger, smarter, fiercer Naomi Clark to rise from the ashes.
Fini
Author's note: Seriously, that scene in the hallway crushed me. The Naomi/Silver friendship is one of the few reasons I keep watching 90210. Seeing Silver being hurt and manipulated isn't much fun. I'm seriously thinking about re-writing season 3 to include Ethan Ward because watching Naomi carry on like she's doing, alone and admittedly broken, is pretty darn depressing.
Anyways, review? I want to know what everyone thinks of this season so far. Only two episodes in and things are all over the place and I'm yet to decide if that's a good thing or a bad one. Haha