Ooh, look, guys! Chapter Ten! I know it's not as long as the last two, but I think it's pretty good anyways.
Chipmunk2010- Gotcha... less Cora, more Fabri. I know I've said it like a gazillion times and you probably don't believe me but I promise, Fabrizio is coming. Personally, I know Cora's in here way more than she's in the actual story, but I've always loved those precocious little kid characters and I don't know why. But okay, I'll try to think about that.
Oh, and by the way, I FINALLY saw Shutter Island. For anybody who hasn't seen it yet, if there are any of you out there, go and watch it as soon as you can!
Thanks for reviewing, as usual.
Chapter Ten
The Penthouse Suite
#400 East 67th Street
The sunlight peeked in through Rose's bedroom windows at far too ungodly an hour for her liking. She was still so tired from the night before- she hadn't gotten home until midnight, when she discovered that her mother was already asleep. Oh yeah, she was great mom alright. Your seventeen-year-old daughter leaves to go the bathroom at 6:30 in the evening in New York City and doesn't come home, and you just go to bed and sleep. Not that it mattered, really, because the night had been an absolute dream.
Rose rolled over onto her back, still thinking about dancing the night away in Jack's arm, a peaceful smile fixed on her face. The smile disappeared quickly though when she saw, to her utter shock and complete repulsion, that Caledon Hockley was standing at the foot of her bed.
"I demand to know where you were last night, Rose," he said. His tone was calm, but the way tips of his ears were turning red gave away his true disposition. "You made me look like a complete fool."
It took Rose a moment to get over the fact that Cal was standing in here room. No one but her family had ever been in her bedroom before, and her father had been the only man who even knew what colour the walls were painted. For a second, she was completely disgusted, until she realized that they were engaged now. They were a couple, and in all technicalities, he could come into her room whenever he wanted to. She really didn't know which thought bothered her more- the idea of a man she barely knew watching her sleep, or the idea of being engaged to Cal.
Then she remembered the decision she'd made the night before. The decision not to allow anyone to run her life but her. She could fabricate some intricate lie about feeling sick and then just going home to sleep, or she could tell the truth. Personally, Rose was tired of lying. It was now or never.
"I was with Jack," she said, sounding braver than she felt. She sat up but pulled the covers a little higher, still insecure about Cal seeing her in nothing but a tank top and pajama bottoms. "We went to this party and I had a really good time."
For a moment, Cal said nothing. Rose hoped beyond hope that he truly wasn't angry with her and that he was able to see reason. Far from it.
After a brief silence, he raised his voice slightly and said, "How dare you. How dare you, Rose? You mother spent a lot of time and a lot of good money on making you look good last night- money which we both know you don't really have, might I add. Money which will all be paid back by me! You are such a selfish little slut!"
Cal was shouting now, and his face had gone entirely red. Rose had never been called that before, and it cut her deeply. He was starting to get scary, she had to admit, but she wasn't going to let him get to her. She was going to stand her ground, for the first time in her life.
"You're being really unfair, Cal," she said calmly. "I didn't do anything wrong, and I don't care about your money. We're engaged, Cal; you have to be able to trust me to live me own life."
There. She'd said it. The sentence she'd been dreaming of saying her entire life. Part of her was genuinely afraid of what Cal was going to do next, but another part of her felt utterly relieved. The breath she took in that moment felt like the first breath she'd ever taken. She was her own person now, no matter what anyone said.
"We're... we're engaged..." Cal stammered, trying to collect his thoughts. "We're engaged!" he declared again, more forcefully this time. "Exactly my point! You are this close to being my wife, Rose. That means that we're a union. We're together. It means you can't run off with some guy you picked up of the goddamn street, do you understand, Rose?"
"I can do whatever I want."
All of the colour drained from Cal's face as she said that, and more a moment, she felt instantly gratified. The feeling didn't last long though, because before she knew it, he had flown into some sort of jealous, psychotic rage. He was picking things up off her dresser and hurling them across the room, screaming obscenities all the while, leaving Rose to wonder what in the world she had done. All of a sudden, all of her fantasies from the previous night were gone and reality came crashing down on her. She was never going to be with Jack, and now she was probably never going to be with Cal either. She had ruined everything. She had allowed one magical night to enthral her mind and rob her of all logic. Now there was nothing for her to do but sit there as Cal threw things at the walls. A bottle of deep red nail polish hit the headboard behind her, dangerously close to her head. It shattered, and Rose watched in horror as its contents slowly dripped down her headboard and onto her sheets. It looked so much like blood.
Cal drew closer to her, causing Rose to cringe. He grabbed the blanket out of her tightly clenched hands and threw it onto the floor, leaving her feeling utterly exposed. She let out a high-pitched yelp as he grabbed her firmly and painfully by the shoulder.
"Do you understand me Rose?" he yelled, so close to her now that she could feel the beads of sweat dripping from his face. Yes, she understood. She understood that Cal didn't care about her at all. She understood that he didn't love her and never would. And she understood that none of that mattered anymore. As long as Cal could hurt her, he had power over her. That was the way of the world.
Rose didn't know how to respond. She just sat there, shaking, while Cal stood over her, his hot breath tickling her skin. When he finally let go of her shoulders, she felt her body go limp. Cal turned on his heels and stomped out of the room, leaving Rose alone with her tears.
For a long time, she couldn't even think. She lay on her side, trying to will away the worsening pain in her shoulders and watching the dark nail polish create a stream of red onto her sheets. It seeped through the thin cotton, probably staining the mattress by now. Rose's salty tears mixed in with the blood-coloured trail of nail polish, creating a really awful mess.
She had no idea what time it was- school would probably be starting soon; within the hour anyway. Like she cared. She wasn't going to school today. If her mother ever bothered to come in and check on her, she'd tell her she was feeling sick and that she planned on staying in bed. Not that that would happen any time soon.
Shaking with sobs, Rose felt like a complete fool. She had set herself up for this- she knew it last night. She never had to take responsibility for her actions. What if she made a mistake? Well, it looked now as though she'd done just that. If her mother ever found out, which she probably would, because Cal was probably telling her right now, her life would be ruined. She would never be allowed to see Jack again. She was going to marry Cal, just like she'd sort of always knew she would.
You didn't think you'd actually make it out, did you? a voice in the back of her head sneered at her. You always knew that you were going to end up stuck here, with Cal and your mother for the rest of your life.
And it was true, wasn't it? She'd been so stupid for ever dreaming of a future with Jack. She'd been stupid for even falling for him in the first place, knowing him only for a day and all. Oh, God, how could she have been so stupid? All along, she'd just been setting herself up for a world of hurt. In a way, she wished Jack had never saved her from jumping off the bridge. Not only would she not have to marry Cal, she wouldn't have to suffer through losing the only person she ever really cared about.
Eventually, the tears stopped pouring out of her eyes. It was as though there were no more emotions left in her body for her to feel. She rolled over onto her back and, looking up at the ceiling, wondered for the millionth time in her life how she, of all people, ended up here.
A few minutes later, there was a soft knock at her door.
"Rose," she heard her mother's voice say, "may I come in?"
Part of her didn't want to see her mother- the woman who had put her into this situation in the first place. But the part of her heart that had learned to trust over the last few days heard a different side of Ruth; a sympathetic side.
"Go ahead," she said, sitting back up against her headboard.
Ruth opened the door and walked quietly into her daughter's room, sitting down on the bed next to her. She was silent for a long time, making Rose think that she was searching for the right words to express her unimaginable grief over all the pain she'd put her daughter through over her seventeen years.
Sighing quietly, she said, "What's wrong Rose? Why are you still in bed?"
Maybe, by some miracle, Cal hadn't told Ruth about where Rose had been the night before. Thank goodness for small miracles!
"I don't feel well, Mother," she explained, trying to put her best 'sick and in pain' face on. She didn't want to get out of bed just yet. What she wanted to do was lay on for a bit, and when she was sure her mother was busy with other things, pack up a few essentials and head out the fire escape. She planned to go to Central Park and find Jack, tell him what had happened with Cal, tell him that she loved him... Then they could run away to Santa Monica together, never again to deal with the world they'd left behind. "I don't think I want to go to school today, honestly."
Ruth didn't say anything. She just shuffled over closer to her daughter and held her hand. Was this really happening? Was she showing Rose something a little bit like love and compassion? The rare emotional display gave Rose the courage to ask the question that had been bouncing around her mind since last night. If Cal hadn't told Ruth where she'd been, and her mother really did love her (for now, anyway), then there'd be no reason for her to object.
"Hey, Mom?" she asked slowly, hoping Ruth wouldn't notice that she'd called her Mom and not Mother, "I was wondering... you know how you invited Uncle Eric and Aunt May to my coming out party, but they can't come? Well... that means we have two extra seats out our table, right? So I was wondering if maybe... if maybe Jack could come..."
Ruth sighed quietly. Was she really thinking about it? Was she really, for the first time, going to give her daughter the chance to do something she wanted to do?
"Rose..." she whispered softly, "you are not to see that boy again, do you understand me?"
What? Had that just happened? Despite everything she knew about her mother, Rose found that hard to believe. All of a sudden, the oddest sensation developed in her chest. It was as though she couldn't breathe- as though her lungs were being tied up and bound together. She inhaled and exhaled, but it was as the airflow stopped at her breastbone.
What sort of idiot had she been to hope that her mother, of all people, would understand? Of course she hadn't come in here to be kind and sympathetic- that wasn't like Ruth at all. She was just taking another opportunity to remind her daughter that the money was all gone, and that that burden now rested on her shoulders. She'd probably heard every word that had gone on between Rose and Cal- it had definitely been loud enough. Rose couldn't think straight. She said the first thing that came to her mind.
"Oh, stop it, Mother. You'll give yourself a nosebleed."
As soon as those words came out of her mouth, she regretted it. When Ruth jumped up from her seat on the bed and locked the bedroom door, she regretted it even more. Still standing against the door, as though to barricade it from anyone who might want to come in, Ruth glared at her daughter. If looks could kill, Rose would have been severely injured by this one.
"Rose, this is not a game!" she said, her voice growing steadily louder with every word. "Our situation is precarious. You know the money's gone!"
Of course she knew the money was gone. She heard it every second of every day- when she wasn't being reminded by her mother, she was listening to that little voice in the back of her head that told her it was all resting on her shoulders... everything her father had worked for, everything the DeWitt Bukater name meant... it was all piled on her shoulders, as though she was her mother's pack mule. Well, no longer!
"Of course I know it's gone," she spat out, appalled. "You remind me every day!"
Ruth sighed deeply, as though she was trying to understand how in the world she had gotten stuck with a daughter so selfish. It was quite amazing that no matter what happened; no matter what either of them said, neither mother nor daughter ever understood one another.
"Your father left us nothing but a legacy of bad debts hidden behind a good name. And that is the only card we have to play." There was no sadness in her voice, no regret... just anger and disappointment with her daughter.
She stopped for a moment, as though expecting Rose to say something in reply. Oh, and there were so many things she could have said... that she was in love with Jack and nothing could stop that... that she hated Cal and his perverted obsession... that she wanted out of this entire lifestyle. None of it mattered, though. At least not to Ruth.
"I don't understand it, Rose," she finally said, sounding more tired than angry now. "Cal is a good match for you. He cares a lot about you, you know that, Rose?"
"No, he doesn't!" Rose screamed. "He is disgusting! He hates me! How can you put this all on my shoulders?"
The look that flashed across her mother's face was so unfamiliar that it took Rose a moment to place it for what it truly was... fear. She'd never seen such a look on her mother's face before, and for a moment, it instilled a deep sense of fear in Rose herself. Not the same fears as her mother had- poverty, scandal, loss of image. Those didn't matter to her in the least. What she feared was her mother and all of the ways that she could make her life a living hell.
"Dear God, Rose!" she said, her voice quivering. "D-Do you want to see me working at Target or something? How can you be so selfish? Don't you like the life you're living?"
No, she thought. No, I don't. But that wouldn't come out of her mouth. She felt utterly childish and pathetic as she choked back tears and whispered, "It's so unfair."
"Of course it's unfair," Ruth explained, as though speaking to a little child. "We're women. Our choices are never easy." She stopped and placed her hand on her daughter's, as though trying to show sympathy.
"Now," she said briskly, unlocking the door and standing in the doorway, "you are going to school today, and when you get home we are going to have a final fitting for your gown for the debutante ball. Hurry up, Rose. You're going to be late."
Rose was left, still laying in her bed, watching the red nail polish stain her white sheets. Leaving on irremovable mark. No matter how many times they washed it, tried to make it better, tried to make the mark go away, it was stuck there from here on in. For ever.