Chapter 4

I was lying on the bed in Lafayette's guest room, wide awake at four in the morning, when my cell pinged with a new text alert. I'd been tossing and turning for the past three hours trying not to think about the sounds I thought I heard coming from outside of the room. I wasn't sure how I felt about this new development; that I was jumpy even with someone in the next room, so the distraction was more than welcomed.

You up?

It was from Alex. Tonight would be the fourth night in a row where he drunk texted me. If history repeated itself, which I'd bet my autographed Breakfast at Tiffany's poster it would, he would tell me that he just got laid. The texts would then veer into the topic of his ex, whom I now knew more about than my own ex, and he'd lament about his lost love and how empty he now felt until one of us fell asleep.

Yup, what's up?

In a cab heading home

You had fun tonight?

I guess

He immediately continued with, Am I a dick for thinking these chicks are all starting to look alike?

I thought about how to answer that.

Truth was, I doubted the women found him all that memorable either if they did this as often as he did. He'd be just another good looking guy they had a good time with. I didn't think there was anything wrong with that lifestyle and even though it wasn't for me, I could certainly see the appeal of it.

Not my place to judge.

A beat later, I bumped into them today

Fuck.

His cunt ex Hadley and piece of shit ex-friend Remy decided to make their affair official after the breakup. It didn't hurt either of them since everyone in their circle of friends already knew about what was going on behind Alex's back. In essence, when he broke up and lost his cheating whore of an ex, he also lost all the boys he thought had his back since college.

Relationships were brutal.

I flopped onto my belly and typed, Tell me about it.

Was at Seaport with big bro scoping out new spot for his next bar. E stopped walking, cursed and turned us the other way

Well, shiet.

Alex told me a lot about his childhood and relationship with his brothers over the last couple of nights too. Eric was the oldest at 28, then came Alex at 24, and Godric the youngest Northman brother was only 10. His family was originally from Sweden but immigrated to America when Alex was 7. His parents and Godric still lived in Southern California but Alex followed his big brother to New York after he got accepted into NYU.

One thing I gleamed from our chats was how protective his big bro was of him. Eric packed all of Hadley's shit and dropped the boxes off at the Salvation Army the second he found out what happened. He also took a bat and beat the shit out of Remy's car that same night. Alex's "boys" also knew not to go anywhere near Northman's after Eric personally tossed one of them out of the bar.

I waited, knowing he wasn't done.

A minute later, I received the continuation of the story.

We were already walking away when she called my name

Cunt, whore, succubus, fucking heartless bitch. God, I never hated a woman as much as I hated her - and I didn't even know her!

He continued, I froze. Just fucking froze. My bro kept pushing me but I couldn't even fucking move...

- I thought I was over her but God, just her fucking voice was enough to paralyze me

Damn. That Hadley chick had to be one dumb broad to give up a man so in love with her.

He texted again, I only unfroze to hold my bro back when he made a move to swing at Remy

Are you guys alright?

Yeah, they dipped the second they realized E wasn't fucking around.

- You wanna hear something crazy?

What?

she told me to call her

Wtf? Why?

Don't know, don't care

You gonna do it?

Do I look like a masochist?

Idk, never met anyone who introd themselves as "Hi, I'm _, the Masochist."

You're fucking funny, you know that?

Thank you. Thank you. I aim to please.

It was about ten minutes before he texted again, by that point I was already half asleep.

How do I stop it?

Stop what?

The pain

I sighed, feeling sorrow for my new friend. I'd never experienced heartbreak first or secondhand and had no clue how to go about healing a broken heart.

I don't know, buddy. Maybe you just wake up one day and it doesn't hurt anymore.

Then I added in a second text, It takes time, but I promise it'll get better.

I had no idea if that was true but it seemed like the right thing to say.

Then time needs to speed the fuck up. I'm done feeling like shit

Go to sleep. The hangover you'll feel in the morning will make this feel like nothing.

Great, something else to look forward to

You still coming to the show later? I felt it pertinent to ask.

I'll be there. Models and bottles, what guy could resist? ;)

I chuckled. Pop an ibuprofen before you ass out and down a glass of water.

Yes, mother

Good boy. Now, sleep. I'll see you later.

Night

"Are you sure this isn't too much?" I asked André's reflection in the mirror.

He had just spent the last twenty minutes applying my makeup and, if I was honest with myself, it looked amazing, albeit heavier than I was used to.

"Oui. You look fabulous, ma chérie."

I grinned. "Thanks for doing this, André. I owe you one."

"De rien," he waved his hand dismissively and packed up his makeup kit.

As promised, Lafayette and André had arrived half an hour before the show. I'd already touched base with my model, Thalia, confirmed the lineup, and made sure the gown and accessories were where they were supposed to be. Everything that needed to be done was done, so I led André out to where the guests were. Spotting Lafayette and Alex in the front row reserved for designers and their guests, André and I made our way over to them and took our seats.

Thus began the waiting game.

One by one, models wearing the designs of Knitwear, Sportswear, Children's Wear (they received the loudest applause), Intimate Apparel, and finally, Special Occasion strutted down the runway. I reached for Laf's hand and squeezed when Thalia appeared in my creation. Her raven locks and sultry looks were a perfect fit for my silk and tulle hand painted gown. It was strapless with delicately beaded embroidery and a tulle overlay starting from the thigh down. White bustier, gradually faded into a medium blue grey at the full fishtail tulle skirt, it was a gown for the badass bride who wasn't willing to sacrifice her personality for a traditional white dress.

It took months of sleepless nights and countless bloodied fingertips to complete, but the sense of pride and accomplishment I felt at seeing it on the runway made every second of the grueling process worth it.

Then, as quickly as it began, it was over. The cummulation of four years of hard work on display but for a few hard earned seconds, and I almost cried in relief.

I didn't cry when the handful of names for the critic's choice awards were announced and mine was called. Head held high but shaking inside, I walked up to received my trophy.

I didn't cry when Ms. Ravenscroft, proud smile on her face, handed me the block of glass shaped like a raw Quartz and murmured, "You've more than earned this,"

I didn't cry when, throat tight with emotion, I swallowed thickly and responded with a whispered, "Thank you,"

Nor did I cry when I turned to climb onto the end of the stage where Thalia, still in my gown, stood waiting for me. Her face, beamed with genuine happiness for me, and her beauty increased tenfold. My eyes immediately slid to Alex. He too, seemed to have noticed because he was gazing at her with something akin to awe on his face. Making a mental note to introduce the two of them later, I grinned and held out my hand to her.

Hand in hand, we strutted (or rather, Thalia strutted while I focused on not tripping) down the length of the catwalk where I paused to take my bow. The room erupted in applause and my eyes scanned the front row for my friends. Lafayette was holding his iPhone to me; I looked and saw my entire family jumping with joy on FaceTime. My heart warmed, and that's when the tears I stubbornly held back began to fall. I waved at my loved ones, and hand still grasping Thalia's, we turned and concluded our walk.

"To new beginnings!" Lafayette, flute of champagne lifted in the air, shouted jovially.

I, along with twenty of our closest classmates and friends, and a handful of the models involved in the show, lifted our glasses and cheered in response.

My phone rang and I wasn't surprised to see it was Jade calling. She couldn't make it to the show since her semester wasn't ending for another two weeks, but I knew she caught the video stream online. I signaled to Laf that I was taking a call, and stepped into the ladies rooom.

"Critic's choice, baby!" Jade shouted through the phone.

I laughed and fixed a strand of hair in the mirror, "I know! How crazy was that?"

"I didn't doubt you for a second. Oh, Ma and Dad wanted to take you out for a celebratory dinner this weekend. Can you squeeze us in, Ms. Hotshot Designer?"

My eyes flitted towards the back of a woman who just entered a stall. Thinking she looked kind of familiar, I brushed it off and replied, "It's really not that big of a deal. I'll be more than happy with a plate of your dad's chicken parm."

And I was being completely honest. Mr. Fiore's Chicken Parmesan was better than any I'd ever tasted, store bought or home cooked. And being a Bensonhurst girl, born and raised, that was saying a lot.

"Don't you dare. I've been wanting to try this new fusion restaurant in Williamsburg for months, you are not ruining it for me." She warned.

"What, Tray doesn't eat?" I teased.

"I wouldn't know! He hasn't called me since dropping me off at Laf's the next morning."

I nibbled my lip. That didn't sound good.

"Maybe he's been busy?"

"Too busy to send a five second text? I highly doubt it."

"Maybe he lost his phone." I offered hopefully.

"Or maybe he just isn't into me. I'm a big girl, I can deal. It's his loss anyway."

She didn't sound upset about it, but it had to have stung. Jade was into the occasional one night stand when the mood struck her, but Tray was more than that. It was obvious in the way she looked at him. I'd have thought he felt the same because he looked at her the same way. It wasn't lust, although there was a healthy dose of that too; it was fascination, curiosity and... hope.

But maybe I thought wrong.

"Did you try texting him?"

Yeah, it was stupid and probably broke every dating rule book out there, but when it came to matters of the heart, rules were meant to be broken. Or at least that's what I surmised.

She hesitated, then spoke so quietly I had to strain to hear her, "I thought he liked me, you know?"

I nodded even though she couldn't see me. "I know sweetie. I thought he did too."

"We stayed up all night just talking. Talking! Can you believe it? I've never done that with a guy before." She sighed, "I thought the connection was there. I mean, who the hell listens to a woman ramble on and on about her boring childhood, her love of all things tech and geeky, and not be into her?"

I wanted to agree but then I thought back to the last four nights of texting back and forth with Alex. I didn't have any feelings for him. At all. Call it self preservation or whatever, but the fact that he was crying on my shoulder over another woman killed any romantic notions I might've had for him. And there were none to begin with; he just wasn't my type.

I also knew for a fact that he wasn't into me that way, either. I mean, he was initially but after being shot down and subsequently breaking down at his brother's bar, his man card probably mandated my removal from the female with potential pool. I became a stand in for the friends he lost. Just another sympathetic ear.

Purely platonic relationships were the bomb. Jade and Tray though, there was nothing platonic about their chemistry. It was so palpable that Helen Keller would have sensed it.

So I replied, "He was definitely into you. Which is why I'm abusing my best friend privilege and ordering you to contact him. A simple text will do."

She groaned and called me a colorful name which I simply did not agree with. Bitch? Yes. A conniving one? Nope.

Staring into the mirror, I swept my hair back and fixed a smudge in my eyeliner. "Listen, I have to get back to the party. Call me the second he texts you back, alright? Love you!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Love you too, bye," she replied before disconnecting.

I cast one last look at my reflection, belatedly thinking the woman was inside the stall for a long ass time, and rejoined my friends.

As parties were won't to do when a large group of college aged kids and substantial amounts of alcohol were involved, ours spiraled quickly out of control and before we knew it, we were asked to leave.

Our group splintered as some people left to go home while others continued their wild partying at clubs and bars. My group, which included Laf and André, Alex and Thalia, two models by the names of Jessica and Palomina (yes, her parents named her after a horse! We drank to commiserate; it wasn't everyday you encountered a kindred spirit), and myself were done partying but wanted to continue drinking. So, we walked the five blocks to Eric's bar.

The girls were impressed that the bouncers knew Alex by name. They were even more impressed when he stepped behind the bar to serve our drinks. Eric, I noticed, was watching his brother with an indulgent smile. He caught my eye and tipped his head in gratitude. With a silly, inebriated grin, I shook my head and continued my conversation with Laf and André.

Beneath his laughter and boyish grins, Alex's pain was evident to anyone who bothered to look. Thalia, I noticed, cottoned onto this fact and with her cautious glances, seemed almost concerned for him. Jessica and Palomina however, were oblivious to everything other than the brothers' charms, and by the end of the night, it became obvious that they would be going home with them.

Thalia looked disappointed. I secretly hoped that she wouldn't hold this against him and that she'd be willing to explore something further with him when he was ready. I knew it was a crapshoot though; someone that beautiful, inside and out, would get snatched by the first man with half a brain.

A/N: It's just a jump to the left, and then a step to the right. Put your hands on your hips, and bend your knees in tight. But it's the pelvic thrust! That really drives you insaaaane! Let's do THE TIME WARP again!

Next chapter will jump into the future.

Pics in profile, as usual :)

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