A/N: Wow! Thanks for all the reviews, you all have really inspired me to
keep updating quickly! This is a short chapter, marking the ending of the
unofficial "Part One" of this fan fic. This chapter also features lyrics
from the song "How Can I Remember" by Alan and Marilyn Bergman. If you'd
like to hear it, it's on the update of "Sabrina" starring Harrison Ford.
Again, passages from Anna Karenina are in quotations, and the song lyrics
will have asterisk around them. Please review!
********************
After Seth stepped away from her, Summer felt empty. She watched the room with hallowed eyes, trying to distinguish who was acting and who was being. She'd learned the difference.
She settled into a high-backed chair at one of the tables. A fishbowl served as the centerpiece, surrounding by tiny votive candles. She leaned forward to examine her reflection floating within the water. And a thought occurred to her.
I've forgotten who I used to be.
The memories flooded through her. That was the trouble. All my life, she realized, I've been living two separate existences. It's like the book. I'm not just Kitty - no girl can be just Kitty, there has to be a tinge of Anna mixed in, and the only thing I can control now if which side is revealed, and when.
She tucked an errant wave of hair behind her ear and stood just as Tom approached.
"Hey sexy, ready for a spin around the floor?" He waggled his hips and Summer prayed that he wasn't giving he a preview of his dancing. She needed to be in control, and the next few moments were crucial.
She moved towards him slowly with a slight smile, stalling for time. Thank god, the voice hushed, as the orchestra finished their song and moved into a slower piece. A tall redhead stepped up to the microphone and began to hum softly with the music. She placed her hand in Tom's and they began to dance.
She could not feel his hands on her back, and though her eyes appeared to meet his she was glancing behind him, peering into the heart of Seth Cohen. He was slouched over at his parents' empty table, his tie undone and a tiny glass can of Mountain Dew in his hand. His feet were splayed out in front of him, and he was watching her.
He's always watching you, the voice reminded, but you have to stop watching him. He is not in the plan. No more Kitty tonight, the voice reprimanded. For the next few minutes, be Anna Karenina.
Play the part, the voice suggested. She felt her body move into character as she smiled slightly.
Summer caught sight of herself in the club's mirrored walls and watched herself as though observing a stranger.
"She saw her suddenly quite new and surprising. She saw in her the signs of that excitement of success she knew so well in herself; she saw that she was intoxicated with the delighted admiration she was exciting. She knew that feeling and knew its signs, and saw them in; saw the quivering, flashing light in her eyes, and the smile of happiness and excitement unconsciously playing on her lips, and the deliberate grace, precision, and lightness of her movements. She obeyed with external liveliness the peremptory shouts of Korsunsky starting them all into the grand round, and then into the chaine, and at the same time she kept watch with a growing pang at her heart. 'No, it's not the admiration of the crowd has intoxicated her, but the adoration of one. And that one? Can it be he?'"
Summer looked up at Tom. Could it be he? She tried to answer yes, forcing a smile so big that a tear slipped down her face. It splashed onto her gown and dissolved away, unnoticed by everyone. She felt Anna Karenina slipping away from her as though she was losing a familiar disguise, and Kitty's fears reverberated within her skin because those fears were her own.
"The whole ball, the whole world, everything seemed lost in fog in Kitty's soul. Nothing but the stern discipline of her bringing-up supported her and forced her to do what was expected of her, that is, to dance, to answer questions, to talk, even to smile. But before the mazurka, when they were beginning to rearrange the chairs and a few couples moved out of the smaller rooms into the big room, a moment of despair and horror came for Kitty."
The singer began, an aching, slow blues song that filled the dim room.
*How can I remember things that never happened?
Arms that never held me,
Lips I've never kissed.
How can I remember?
Why do I keep seeing someone's face before me?
Eyes that say they know me,
Shining through the mist,
Eyes that I remember.
I don't know why or when or where.
I feel suspended in mid-air.
Somewhere between a dream and a memory
Would then and there meet somewhere?*
"But while she looked like a butterfly, clinging to a blade of grass, and just about to open its rainbow wings for fresh flight, her heart ached with a horrible despair."
*Why do I keep hearing some familiar music?
Half forgotten love songs, Running through my mind.
Why do I remember?
There are many things I may not understand,
But somehow I knew that you would take my hand.
I always knew you'd find me,
Always knew you'd love me.
Long before I met you,
Don't ask me when.
Ever since I can remember,
I remember you.*
"No one but she herself understood her position; no one knew that she had just refused the man whom perhaps she loved."
Summer shook her head and stepped back into character. You're Summer Roberts, the voice reminded her. She saw Holly and Ally watching her from the edge of the dance floor, she noticed the admiring look on Tom's face, she felt the approving glances from the exclusive Newport society. It figures, she thought, that the moment I no longer care about popularity is the same moment that it becomes effortless.
Summer glided across the room on Tom's arm, reading envy on her friends' faces. Tom fetched her a flute of sparking water and he spoke to her with caressing words, letting his hands touch her waist at intermittent moments. And though she kept her focus on Tom's face, she could feel Seth's eyes upon her. He was watching her, as always.
And Summer was watching herself as well. She was out of her body, a casual observer, looking at Summer and Tom.
"She saw them with her long-sighted eyes, and saw them, too, close by, when they met in the figures, and the more she saw of them the more convinced was she that her unhappiness was complete."
Summer caught sight of herself in the mirror and realized that it was done. She had made her choice - there could be no regrets.
"She was charming in her simple black dress, charming were her round arms with their bracelets, charming was her firm neck with its thread of pearls, charming the straying curls of her loose hair, charming the graceful, light movements of her little feet and hands, charming was that lovely face in its eagerness, but there was something terrible and cruel in her charm."
********************
After Seth stepped away from her, Summer felt empty. She watched the room with hallowed eyes, trying to distinguish who was acting and who was being. She'd learned the difference.
She settled into a high-backed chair at one of the tables. A fishbowl served as the centerpiece, surrounding by tiny votive candles. She leaned forward to examine her reflection floating within the water. And a thought occurred to her.
I've forgotten who I used to be.
The memories flooded through her. That was the trouble. All my life, she realized, I've been living two separate existences. It's like the book. I'm not just Kitty - no girl can be just Kitty, there has to be a tinge of Anna mixed in, and the only thing I can control now if which side is revealed, and when.
She tucked an errant wave of hair behind her ear and stood just as Tom approached.
"Hey sexy, ready for a spin around the floor?" He waggled his hips and Summer prayed that he wasn't giving he a preview of his dancing. She needed to be in control, and the next few moments were crucial.
She moved towards him slowly with a slight smile, stalling for time. Thank god, the voice hushed, as the orchestra finished their song and moved into a slower piece. A tall redhead stepped up to the microphone and began to hum softly with the music. She placed her hand in Tom's and they began to dance.
She could not feel his hands on her back, and though her eyes appeared to meet his she was glancing behind him, peering into the heart of Seth Cohen. He was slouched over at his parents' empty table, his tie undone and a tiny glass can of Mountain Dew in his hand. His feet were splayed out in front of him, and he was watching her.
He's always watching you, the voice reminded, but you have to stop watching him. He is not in the plan. No more Kitty tonight, the voice reprimanded. For the next few minutes, be Anna Karenina.
Play the part, the voice suggested. She felt her body move into character as she smiled slightly.
Summer caught sight of herself in the club's mirrored walls and watched herself as though observing a stranger.
"She saw her suddenly quite new and surprising. She saw in her the signs of that excitement of success she knew so well in herself; she saw that she was intoxicated with the delighted admiration she was exciting. She knew that feeling and knew its signs, and saw them in; saw the quivering, flashing light in her eyes, and the smile of happiness and excitement unconsciously playing on her lips, and the deliberate grace, precision, and lightness of her movements. She obeyed with external liveliness the peremptory shouts of Korsunsky starting them all into the grand round, and then into the chaine, and at the same time she kept watch with a growing pang at her heart. 'No, it's not the admiration of the crowd has intoxicated her, but the adoration of one. And that one? Can it be he?'"
Summer looked up at Tom. Could it be he? She tried to answer yes, forcing a smile so big that a tear slipped down her face. It splashed onto her gown and dissolved away, unnoticed by everyone. She felt Anna Karenina slipping away from her as though she was losing a familiar disguise, and Kitty's fears reverberated within her skin because those fears were her own.
"The whole ball, the whole world, everything seemed lost in fog in Kitty's soul. Nothing but the stern discipline of her bringing-up supported her and forced her to do what was expected of her, that is, to dance, to answer questions, to talk, even to smile. But before the mazurka, when they were beginning to rearrange the chairs and a few couples moved out of the smaller rooms into the big room, a moment of despair and horror came for Kitty."
The singer began, an aching, slow blues song that filled the dim room.
*How can I remember things that never happened?
Arms that never held me,
Lips I've never kissed.
How can I remember?
Why do I keep seeing someone's face before me?
Eyes that say they know me,
Shining through the mist,
Eyes that I remember.
I don't know why or when or where.
I feel suspended in mid-air.
Somewhere between a dream and a memory
Would then and there meet somewhere?*
"But while she looked like a butterfly, clinging to a blade of grass, and just about to open its rainbow wings for fresh flight, her heart ached with a horrible despair."
*Why do I keep hearing some familiar music?
Half forgotten love songs, Running through my mind.
Why do I remember?
There are many things I may not understand,
But somehow I knew that you would take my hand.
I always knew you'd find me,
Always knew you'd love me.
Long before I met you,
Don't ask me when.
Ever since I can remember,
I remember you.*
"No one but she herself understood her position; no one knew that she had just refused the man whom perhaps she loved."
Summer shook her head and stepped back into character. You're Summer Roberts, the voice reminded her. She saw Holly and Ally watching her from the edge of the dance floor, she noticed the admiring look on Tom's face, she felt the approving glances from the exclusive Newport society. It figures, she thought, that the moment I no longer care about popularity is the same moment that it becomes effortless.
Summer glided across the room on Tom's arm, reading envy on her friends' faces. Tom fetched her a flute of sparking water and he spoke to her with caressing words, letting his hands touch her waist at intermittent moments. And though she kept her focus on Tom's face, she could feel Seth's eyes upon her. He was watching her, as always.
And Summer was watching herself as well. She was out of her body, a casual observer, looking at Summer and Tom.
"She saw them with her long-sighted eyes, and saw them, too, close by, when they met in the figures, and the more she saw of them the more convinced was she that her unhappiness was complete."
Summer caught sight of herself in the mirror and realized that it was done. She had made her choice - there could be no regrets.
"She was charming in her simple black dress, charming were her round arms with their bracelets, charming was her firm neck with its thread of pearls, charming the straying curls of her loose hair, charming the graceful, light movements of her little feet and hands, charming was that lovely face in its eagerness, but there was something terrible and cruel in her charm."
