CHAPTER 21 : Gina
04/03/2016
"Bye guys, have a nice weekend!" Clarke shouted, to make herself heard as all of her students were leaving the classroom.
She patiently waited for the very last one of them to leave before she closed the door behind them, sighing.
What a day. They were all excited for some reason and she had done everything in her power to keep them quiet. She was exhausted, and pretty glad it was over. She loved her job, but sometimes… Damn.
Her desk was mess. She started gathering up the stuff she would bring home with her, to put them in her bag, then picked up a wet sponge to wash traces of paint, a little everywhere around her. That happened all the time, and many of these traces completely disappeared despite her efforts to leave the room clean. She could spot a ton of little paint stains all around the place, of every color. Nevertheless, she tried to wash the new ones off every day.
As she did so, someone knocked on the door.
Clarke frowned. She wasn't expecting anyone, and it couldn't be Bellamy because he was avoiding her like the plague, even if he kept denying it. Things were just not the same as they were a few weeks ago.
'Maybe a parent', she thought, curious to find out who it could be. She didn't have any issue with her students. But she could be surprised.
"Come in," she said, putting the sponge down the sink in the corner of the room.
She heard the door open behind her, as she turned on the tap to wash her hands.
"What can I do for you?" she asked, waiting for her visitor to present themselves.
But they remained mysteriously silent.
Clarke hurried up, closing the tap and picking up a clean towel to wipe her hands.
Finally, just as she was about to turn around, the person spoke, "Hi, Clarke."
Clarke froze for a second, the voice sounding familiar. Yet, she couldn't quite put a face on it. She hoped her confusion wasn't perceivable before she faced them.
"Oh," Clarke said, before she could help herself.
She suddenly felt a heavy weight on her chest as she continued, forcing a smile on her lips, "Hi, Gina."
Gina was still standing in the doorway, with an expression on her face that Clarke didn't know how to describe. She seemed… peaceful. Not especially happy to see Clarke, but far from being all haughty and bitter.
Because, yes, the past few weeks spent with Bellamy had led Clarke to feel an overwhelming jealousy against Gina, a woman she'd met only twice. It was petty of her, she was fully aware of that. Afterall, Bellamy met Gina first. Clarke didn't even have the right to feel the way she did.
But Gina had something Clarke wished more than anything… Bellamy's love.
And for that only, even if she tried her best to shut that part of herself off, Clarke hated Gina.
Gina quietly stepped forward, her hands joined before her, then she leaned on one of the many tables in the room, her eyes not leaving Clarke.
"It's been a long time," she said, and she sounded honestly kind.
Clarke hated that, because she didn't know if she was capable of doing the same.
"Are you looking for Bellamy?" she asked. "Because he's in another building, you just have t-"
"No, don't worry," Gina cut her off, raising her hand before her as if to appease Clarke. "No, actually I was looking for you."
For a moment, Clarke stood there, not moving, looking like an idiot.
Shit.
This couldn't be good.
Because why on earth would Gina come to see her? After so much time not even talking to each other?
If she was worried Bellamy loved another woman, then they would soon be done talking. Bellamy wasn't interested in her. Moving on.
"Why is that?" Clarke asked, preparing herself to what was about to come.
Gina bit her lip.
"I just wanted to talk to you, if that's okay," she replied.
Clarke crossed her arms, then realized she probably looked distrustful and uncrossed them.
"Sure," Clarke said, leaning on her desk to face the brunette.
She tried to sound unbothered, but she wasn't sure it was working. She had a feeling Gina knew exactly what was going through her head.
Clarke cleared her throat, fighting against the urge to look down at her feet instead of staring at the woman in front of her.
"So how was England?" she asked, deciding she could at least make small talk.
It could buy her time and make her seem nicer.
A tiny smile at the corner of Gina's lips appeared on her face. Clarke wasn't sure how to interpret it.
"Fine, thank you. I had a great time."
Clarke nodded.
They remained silent for a few seconds, which felt like hours, neither of them having something to say. Gina, apparently, didn't bother with small talks.
Eventually, the brunette sighed.
"Listen, Clarke… I've been wondering about something for a pretty long time, now," she said, not even the shadow of a smile remaining on her lips.
Even if Gina was suddenly very serious, her eyes were almost… kind. She wasn't pissed at all. Or she was really good at hiding it.
Clarke frowned, feeling lost.
"… Okay?" she said, unsure of how to react.
"It's about Bellamy."
Clarke's heart dropped.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
So, it was about him.
Maybe about… them. Or what they could've been.
"What about him?" Clarke asked, her voice just barely shaking, but maybe enough for Gina to hear it.
'Breathe', she thought.
For a spilt second, Gina's eyes narrowed. Then she was back to her normal, almost expressionless face. The brunette shook her head and sighed before talking.
"Here's the thing. Ever since I'm back, Bellamy's been acting weird."
Gina paused, staring at Clarke – probably to watch her reactions – before proceeding with her explanation. Clarke wasn't surprised by what she'd just heard. It made sense Bellamy would feel confused about the situation, he already did when his girlfriend was still in Europe. This long-distance relationship had been difficult for him.
"I know you guys were close while I was… away," Gina continued. "Bellamy told me quite a lot about you."
"He did?" Clarke wondered out loud.
She didn't know Bellamy was so open about their friendship. It made sense; Gina was his girlfriend. Of course, he would tell her about it. Yet, Clarke couldn't help but feel a little hurt because she thought their routine, the cocoon they had created only belonged to them. Their little bubble. But it never was something secret and protected.
Bellamy told Gina about Clarke, but wouldn't tell Clarke about Gina.
"Yeah," Gina replied. "You've been a good friend to him."
There was no venom in Gina's voice. She was being honest, again. Clarke kind off wished the brunette actually was pissed at her, so she had a valid reason to hate her.
But Gina was kind and perfect, and Clarke was just being a bitch.
"He's a good friend to me, too," Clarke shrugged, even if in reality he was so much more than that to her.
"Sure. I just feel like… something's going on with him, you know? He avoids talking about himself too much. He avoids talking about you, too."
And there, at that very moment, Clarke felt Gina's stare like lasers on her skin. Gina's eyes wouldn't leave her face, as if she was trying to get into Clarke's head and read her thoughts.
Clarke's heartbeat accelerated.
"Oh really?" she said.
The more they discussed, the less Clarke sounded convincingly cool.
"Yeah," Gina confirmed. "Did something happen between you two?"
It was asked almost innocently, yet something in the brunette's eyes gave Clarke the impression that the double meaning of her question was deliberate.
Clarke forced her hands, clinching to her desk, to relax and shrugged.
"I'm not sure what you mean."
"I mean you guys seemed to see each other pretty often. And then you just… stopped?"
Clarke swallowed with difficulty. It was painful to see how good Gina was at guessing everything. She'd come back only two weeks ago, and she knew so much already. Maybe Bellamy was hoping that, by avoiding Clarke, his girlfriend wouldn't suspect anything. It had the opposite effect.
"He just wanted to spend time with you after your return. It's normal," Clarke said, making up an answer.
Her voice was betraying her a bit, but at least she didn't look away the whole time.
Gina nodded, but Clarke could see she was thinking, hesitating. She obviously had other things to say, but she was keeping them to herself... for now.
"I'm just gonna leave, now. You probably want to go home, I'm sorry for bothering you," Gina said instead, the kind smile she had earlier back on her lips.
"Uh… No, don't worry. It's fine," Clarke said, even if she did really want this discussion to be over and go home.
Gina straightened, picked up the bag beside her and started rummaging in it.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to continue this discussion with you," she said.
Clarke bit her lip. Just as she thought she was done with this.
"Sure."
"Here," Gina gave her a small paper with an address on it. "I'll be singing at this bar, next week on Saturday. You could meet me there? Just so we could talk over a drink."
Clarke took the paper, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the situation she was getting herself into.
"Okay."
Gina did something Clarke wasn't expecting her to do – she put a hand on Clarke's shoulder, as if to reassure her, and smiled.
"My show will be done by ten o'clock. I'd be very happy to see you there."
Clarke definitely didn't know what to think of Gina Martin. She was being so nice. Clarke wondered if Gina actually suspected something, or if she was only being paranoid.
"Sure. I'll be there."
13/03/2019
Clarke cleaned the whole house.
She vacuumed, then mopped the floor, changed the sheets on her bed, dusted every piece of furniture, made sure the bathroom and the kitchen were perfectly clean. She even washed the windows, dreading the moment she would have to pick up all of her stuff and put them in her suitcase.
Eventually, she did.
She took her time, carefully folding her clothes one by one. In the end, it looked so tidy she wished she could just stare at it and leave it the way it was.
She sat on the bed, and sighed.
Of course, it wasn't the real reason she didn't want to close that suitcase.
It symbolized so much more than her housework. It symbolized failure.
Because she failed to make peace with her past. She failed to give Bellamy the truth. She failed to prove herself she could be forgiven.
She failed, and it was too late. She would be gone within a few hours. All she could do was wait.
She wished she had the strength to leave the house and go find Bellamy to tell him everything. There was still time for that. She could say goodbye.
But she was a coward.
And she couldn't do this again. Seeing him, knowing it was the last time.
He would hate her for it, probably. But whether she stayed or not, the result would be the same. There was so much to forgive, it didn't feel humanly possible.
Even if he did forgive her, could he actually move on? Could they live their lives as if the past didn't matter?
It was a pretty image. Clarke didn't believe in it.
She remained seated on the bed a very long time, staring at her suitcase. Thinking, thinking, thinking. She was so deeply lost in her thoughts she didn't hear them at first.
"Clarke?" a voice shouted from downstairs.
Clarke startled, and straightened.
For a second, she froze, wondering who the hell could that be. Until she remembered.
Of course.
The reason why she was packing everything up in the first place.
She got out of the room and ran down the stairs. Someone was waiting for her, a huge smile on her face, her skin tanned by the sun.
"Harper!"
"Hiii! Oh my god, I feel like I haven't seen you in so long!" her friend replied, immediately taking Clarke in her arms.
Clarke smiled, the embrace soothing her. It felt good to be held by someone who actually liked her. After a few seconds she stepped back, taking her look at her friend.
"You look so good!" Clarke told her, and it was true.
Harper looked like someone who had spent about a month traveling in Asia, discovering marvelous places and enjoying time with her now-husband, which was exactly what she did.
During the last few weeks, Harper, Monty and Clarke had texted a few times and she knew, thanks to the pictures they would send her, that they had the time of their life.
"Oh, thank you!"
Clarke looked around.
"Where's Monty?"
"Hmm, probably picking up the rest of our luggage," Harper shrugged.
Clarke was about to get to the front door, so she could say hi to Monty, but Harper stopped her just before she did.
"Hey, are you okay?" Harper asked quietly.
Her friend's attitude changed within a second, going from joyful to worried. Clarke wondered if she looked so awful people were wondering about her health.
"Yeah," she automatically replied.
"I mean, did you… talk to him? To Bellamy?"
Clarke suddenly felt like a lump in her throat.
She avoided talking about what was happening in Arkadia during the few times they had exchanged messages. She didn't want to bother them with her problems when they were having the time of their lives.
Clarke nodded, looking down.
Harper gasped.
"Really? And how'd it go?"
Clarke sighed.
"It's, you know… A lot of things happened. It's complicated."
"Does he know…"
"No. No, he doesn't know everything… yet."
Harper frowned, but didn't insist. She could probably guess Clarke was avoiding the conversation. Clarke took a deep breath, jumping on the occasion to talk about what she had in mind for two days, when she remembered Harper and Monty were coming back.
"Octavia, Miller, Murphy… they all know that I'm back," she announced, feeling like she was dropping a bomb on her friend.
But Harper barely reacted. She nodded, crossed her arms, and waited for Clarke to continue. Clarke couldn't help but be a little taken aback.
"You don't seem surprised," she mumbled.
"Clarke, of course it was gonna happen. It was just a matter of time," Harper said, rolling her yes.
Clarke winced at her words. Well, maybe she was being a little too optimistic, or desperate. Harper smiled, amused by her friend's reaction.
"Anyway," Clarke continued. "With what happened recently, and you coming back… I don't wanna be a weight for the both of you."
"Clarke, yo-"
"No, I just… I think it's better if I leave town."
This time, Harper reacted. With passion.
"What? No way. You don't have to do this, you can stay for as much time as you want. It's not a problem! If you need-" she exclaimed, moving her hands all around.
"It's the best thing to do..."
"Octavia can go fuck herself, I don't care what she thinks."
Clarke laughed, despise how heavy her heart felt in her chest.
"Listen, whatever I do, it's going to get worse. I don't want to involve both of you in this," Clarke said, shaking her head.
Harper heavily sighed, her eyes narrowing. She clearly didn't like this.
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"I know."
"He's going to look for you."
"Harp-"
"Hey, Clarke? Are you there?" Monty shouted from outside.
Both she and Harper peered at the front door, which was half open. They exchanged a curious look, then walked to it.
They couldn't see Monty yet but they could hear him… talk. To someone else.
Clarke heard another familiar voice.
"… kinda worried I wouldn't find the address. I'm lucky I found you," the person was saying.
Harper opened the door completely and stepped outside. Clarke followed.
The first person she spotted was Monty, one of his hands holding a large bag, the other pointing at something behind him.
"Hi Clarke!" he said, smiling. "Apparently someone's looking for you. We just met."
Clarke peaked at the something, or rather the someone, hidden behind Monty's shoulder. She immediately recognized who it was.
The shock was so brutal she wasn't even able to move for a few seconds.
"Clarke! Fucking finally. I thought I'd never find you. A fucking mess," Raven yelled, seeming both happy and pissed, as she got out of the taxi that brought her there.
Clarke probably looked stupid, with her widened eyes and her mouth hanging open. She blinked a few times, wondering if she was hallucinating.
"What the fuck?" she could only say.
"Well," Raven replied, the smile on her face getting bigger and bigger. "I thought, what about a little trip to Arkadia?"
Clarke remained speechless. Raven never warned her she was coming.
And by the look of it, Clarke wasn't going anywhere.
~oOo~
"Come on, Clarke. Just relax," Raven said, rolling her eyes.
Clarke was playing with straw of her mojito, her head resting on her other hand, sighing every two seconds.
"Easier said than done," Clarke replied.
After spending the rest of the afternoon with Harper and Monty, as they showed the two girls hundreds of pictures of the places they had been and told them about their trip. Raven had then dragged Clarke to a bar nearby.
'You and I have a lot to talk about', the brunette told her, 'and we'll probably need alcohol for that'.
Which is how a depressed Clarke found herself seated at bar, with a barely touched drink and joined by her best friend who she didn't expect at all.
Raven sighed, sipping her beer.
"So, I take it things didn't go well with Bellamy," she concluded.
Clarke shrugged.
"Bellamy isn't the problem. It's me and… everything."
"Ah, yeah. You and your I'm-actually-a-monster-secret."
Clarke narrowed her eyes at her, not appreciating being called out like this. Raven's left eyebrow arched, as if daring her to deny it.
Clarke straightened.
"Why are you here?" she asked her friend.
Raven smiled and raised her glass.
"Alcohol."
"No, I mean why did you come here? To Arkadia?"
The smile on the brunette's face suddenly disappeared, and Clarke knew as she put down her glass that she was in for the serious conversation.
"Clarke, you've been gone for a month. And every time we talked on the phone… I'm gonna be honest, you didn't sound like someone who knew what she was doing."
Clarke looked down.
Raven was right.
It still wasn't nice to hear.
"At some point, I really thought you'd do it, that you'd tell him and make peace with him," Raven continued. "But then… Something's changed."
Clarke closed her eyes for a brief moment. She knew exactly what changed. Murphy saw her, Miller knew she was in town and Bellamy found out what her real name was.
Her protection bubble had burst, and she found herself completely lost. Discouraged. And at the same time, she wanted to be done with all of this so fucking much.
She was thinking too much. Sometimes she wished she could shut her brain down.
"I mean, a lot changed within a few weeks," Clarke said, crossing her arms.
Two months ago, Clarke didn't think she would see Bellamy again, and Bellamy didn't even know she existed.
"I had the feeling you were giving up. That's why I came." Raven told her.
It was scary to see how well Raven knew her friend. She could guess what Clarke felt, thought, needed. It could be a bit frustrating too. Clarke didn't want to be saved. She wanted, she had to save herself.
But Raven just wanted to help, and Clarke knew that.
"I was." Clarke admitted, because there was no point in denying it. "But I didn't know where else to go, with Monty and Harper coming back."
Afterall, Clarke was packing her bags and saying goodbye to Harper before Raven even showed up.
"Clarke, please. It took me fifteen minutes to find a hotel where we could stay," Raven snorted.
Clarke winced. Touché.
Raven waved at the barman to get his attention. He was a handsome man, and Clarke knew from the way Raven was smiling that the brunette was enjoying the view.
When he finally got to them, Raven leaned towards him.
"Hi, hmm…?"
"Shaw."
"Hi, Shaw. Can I have another one?" Raven asked, using her sexy voice.
Shaw grinned, then winked at her, clearly flattered by the attention. Raven kept her eyes on him as he prepared another drink for her.
Clarke laughed. It wasn't the first time Raven openly flirted with the barman when they went out.
Shaw came back with the beer in his hand, locking eyes with the mechanic.
"That's on me," he told Raven, his gaze not leaving the brunette's face.
Clarke was already wondering if she should leave and get back to the hotel when another client caught Shaw's attention. He shared one last look with Raven before getting back to work.
Raven leaned back in her chair, seemingly satisfied.
"Anyway. All I'm saying is, it was time I join you in Arkadia," the mechanic said, as if their discussion had never been interrupted.
"How did you even find Monty and Harper's address, by the way?" Clarke asked, remembering this little detail.
"I didn't," Raven shrugged. "I mean, not really. You mentioned the street in one of your texts. I figured I'd find you by asking around. I was lucky, I saw this couple from afar and decided to tempt it. Turned out they were your friends."
Clarke was impressed, but not surprised. Raven had the confidence Clarke wished she had. Going to a town she didn't know, searching for someone who could be anywhere didn't scare the mechanic. She just went and improvised. Clarke couldn't do that, not at this point in her life, when everything seemed hard and complicated.
She nodded and finally took a sip of her mojito.
For a minute or two, they remained in a comfortable silence. Then a pretty voice invaded the room.
Both Clarke and Raven turned around to face a small stage at the opposite end of the bar. A girl with her guitar was seated on a stool, humming. Clarke didn't recognize the tune at first, but then the girl started singing – Bittersweet Symphony.
The girl was talented.
Clarke was hit full force with a memory she sometimes wished she could forget. Not because of what happened that day, but because of what happened after that. She felt ashamed.
Clarke turned her back on the singer, focusing on her drink instead. Raven noticed and frowned. She was right, Clarke was hiding behind her secrets. Constantly.
She'd been afraid for so long. Afraid of the truth.
But the problem wasn't the truth, it was the lies.
Yet, Raven supported her no matter what. Without even knowing the full story.
Clarke made a decision.
"I met Gina in a bar, one day," she said, even before Raven could ask her. "She used to sing in bars, too."
Raven leaned in, staring intensely at her friend, as if she was drinking her every word.
"Who's Gina?"
Clarke took a deep breath.
There it was.
It didn't matter if she said it now or later. Eventually, Raven would find out.
Clarke was tired of hiding everything from everyone. It could feel great to just… tell someone. Raven also deserved to know who she really was defending, and why.
"She was Bellamy's girlfriend. She died the night of the accident. The same night Bellamy lost his memory," she told her, taking her time, making sure Raven was understanding her every word.
She didn't dare look at her friend. What if Raven couldn't bear it? What if she couldn't forgive such a thing?
"Clarke, I…" the brunette started, but stopped.
Clarke took a quick look at Raven, just enough time to see her… thinking.
"Do you mean…?" Raven asked her.
Clarke felt the tears burning her eyes.
God, she felt so fucking ashamed. Especially towards Raven, and what she would think of her.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice choked up. "You must think I'm a fucking liar. With Finn, I didn't even know you existed, Raven. I made a mistake. But with Bellamy…"
Clarke bit her lip, refusing to cry.
She wanted to be strong. The least she could do was to take responsibility for her actions.
"I knew he had a girlfriend. From the beginning, I knew. And I fell in love with him anyway."
It felt wrong, yet so incredibly appeasing to say it all aloud. Those words had been waiting to come out for so long. Even if it hurt, and the consequences could be irreversible, a weight taken off of her shoulders.
She waited, for whatever was about to come. If Raven hated her, she wouldn't try to change her mind. She would understand.
Raven's silence seemed to last forever, until finally she put her hand on Clarke's. Clarke startled, surprised, then looked up.
"I don't blame you, you know," Raven said.
Relief invaded Clarke's chest.
"You don't?"
"You're human, you make mistakes. Just like everyone else," Raven reassured her, a tiny smile on her lips.
"But… after what happened with Finn…"
"This isn't the same. Finn was an asshole. We were both cheated on."
Clarke put her other hand on Raven's, holding it tight.
"Thank you. For everything," she said, feeling so grateful for having such a wonderful woman as her best friend.
Raven was probably the only good thing to happen in the years after the accident. Aside from hanging out a few times, they weren't very close before then. When Clarke went back to live with Abby, they reconnected. Clarke was a fucking mess at the time, yet Raven didn't give up on her. On the contrary, she ended up being one of the few reasons Clarke got out of her bed in the morning.
Raven was also the one who led Clarke to face Bellamy in Arkadia. Without her, Clarke would still be a shell of herself, drowning in her own pain.
"Don't thank me," Raven said, shaking her head.
"No, I insist. You don't know how much this means to me."
Raven frowned.
"Wow, you do believe you're a monster, right?"
"That's how Miller and Octavia see me," Clarke shrugged, even though this thought had been haunting her for three years.
"Why?" Raven asked, more serious than ever.
"Because…"
Clarke sighed. There was so much to explain. So many painful memories.
"I don't know where to start…"
"Hey, hey. Look at me."
Clarke joined her hands to nervously play with them, before locking eyes with her friend's. Raven was smiling, but her eyes were sharp, determined.
"You're alright. Don't worry. Why don't you start from the beginning?" the brunette calmly said.
Clarke nodded.
The beginning.
Her first memory of Bellamy.
"We met at this party, with teachers from our school…" she started.
And the more the words came out, the less she felt the shame and the weight on her shoulders. She told Raven everything. How they met, how they became friends, how she fell in love.
It took her hours, but eventually she told her about that night, too. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, yet her heart felt lighter.
When she was done, Raven held her tight in her arms and let her cry until she couldn't anymore.
~oOo~
Bellamy was close to becoming insane. Maybe he already was.
Those last few days had been some of the most mentally exhausting days of his life. He couldn't talk to anyone without arguing with them or being frustrated at them, so instead he remained hidden in his apartment thinking and thinking and thinking.
He just didn't understand.
It was too much.
His sister was a liar. His best friend was a liar. The woman he loved was… someone he really knew. He wanted to believe her every word. He did. But every time he convinced himself she wasn't the enemy, someone uninvited showed up on his doorstep and turned his world upside down. They would say too much and not enough at the same time, and it was killing him.
He didn't know who he hated the most, in that moment. Himself or the whole fucking world. It depended on the time of the day.
When he felt like he was about to lose it, he did a little exercise. The same one he used to do during the months following the accident.
He would sit down, focusing on his breathing, and would repeat out loud the things he knew happened.
Years ago, Miller introduced Clarke to him. He and Clarke were friends. Clarke knew Gina and Octavia. He had an accident almost three years ago. Gina was his girlfriend, and she died. His sister, his friends and Clarke were there that night. Miller and Octavia blamed Clarke for what happened. Oh, and he may or may not have cheated on Gina with Clarke.
He couldn't believe it. He wouldn't do that.
And it didn't make sense. Why would Clarke avoid him so much if she manipulated him in the past? She even pushed him away when he leaned in to kiss her. If all she cared about was to sleep with him, she wouldn't act she way she did. She didn't even want to talk to him again in the first place, he's the one who insisted.
But if she was a liar…
"Argh, fuck!" Bellamy grunted.
He was so done. If only he could sell his soul to a demon or something just to get his memory back.
He sighed. He was becoming insane.
He decided enough was enough. He had to do something. Maybe he could clean up the mess in his bedroom, for instance. He'd been extremely lazy these last few weeks. The room's floor was covered with old clothes and papers and boxes. Just looking at it triggered his anxiety.
"Well, then. Let's get to work," he murmured to himself.
First, he gathered all his clothes and put them in the washing machine. He already felt lighter for doing so. But it was the easiest part.
The boxes and the papers scattered everywhere were due to his search for pictures and items that could possibly trigger a memory. Well, he found tons of them, but they only made him sad. Most of them were memories from his childhood anyway, which he didn't have a hard time remembering.
He sat on the floor in the middle of all the mess. He put the photographs back where they belonged first, making sure he wasn't mixing them up.
One of the boxes was dedicated to Gina, contained some of her old stuff. A necklace she always wore, a shirt he'd bought her, a mug she adored… He never lingered on them. It hurt too much. He took that box carefully in his hands and put it on the very top shelf with the others.
The next piece of paper he picked up was one Clarke's drawings. He blinked a few times. He'd been so overwhelmed with everything going on, recently, that he almost forgot about them. He'd already seen this one, but suddenly he felt like he was rediscovering it all over again.
His arm was circling her waist, and they were lying on what seemed to be a bed. He couldn't see their faces, but there was no doubt in his mind that the two people in the picture were he and Clarke.
Bellamy's heart dropped.
It remined him all too well of his sister's words.
So maybe the cheating did happen, and it was right in front of him all this time. He was a fucking idiot.
But there had to be an explanation. He couldn't believe Clarke would draw such a thing. It didn't feel like something she would do. And it wasn't like they were naked. They clearly had their clothes on, which meant nothing important happened. At least, he hoped so.
Soon, he'd have to talk to her again.
He leaned in to gather the rest of the drawings, observing them one by one. The more he was looking at them, the more he understood.
How could he not see? It was so clear, so evident.
The workshop.
Him, pissed.
Him, writing.
Him, cooking.
Him, sleeping.
Him, him, him.
Clarke didn't just draw random memories of her year in Arkadia. She drew her memories of him.
Even before the accident, she already drew him.
'I see you. -C.G.'. It all started from there.
Because it was her way of expressing herself. Not with words, but with a piece of paper and a pencil.
Looking at all of these drawings, Bellamy couldn't help but feel they meant so much more than he thought he did. Maybe they weren't tools to help him remember.
Maybe they were supposed to be a letter, to him. A letter in which Clarke was telling him how much she cared about him.
Bellamy's emotions were all over the place. He felt both confused and hopeful, knowing his interpretation could completely wrong. But it had to be right. It felt right.
He suddenly straightened.
Clarke's way of expressing herself was through art. The paintings, the drawings.
Bellamy's memories wouldn't come back, and he couldn't talk to his old self.
But the Bellamy before the accident hadn't fully disappeared. He'd left a trace. A way for the new Bellamy to understand him.
An unfinished book.
Memories and feelings expressed through writing. A letter to himself.
Bellamy sat down and rummaged through the last box on the ground, his heart beating fast. Maybe that was the answer all along. He begged people to give him answers for so long, when he should've search within himself first.
He found was he was searching for… a few notebooks in which he used to write all of his ideas. Bellamy had quickly given up on them when he first discovered them after the accident, judging they wouldn't be of any use.
He went through all of them, one by one, reading every pages. Most of them were about Greek gods, who he had re-imagined in a modern way. Hades seemed to be the main character. Dark and tortured, but only trying to do his best. The similarities between Bellamy and him were obvious. Even then, he didn't think very highly of himself.
Many pages were dedicated to short scenes that had probably popped up in his mind and which he had written down during his free time.
Bellamy had been sitting there for about an hour when he finally found something which intrigued him. At first it was nothing, mostly a page full of erasures – so much that it looked almost entirely black – aside from the name written in capital letter at the top and a date. Persephone. February 3rd 2016. But then Bellamy's eyes wandered on the next page, and he suddenly realized what he was reading.
He meets her when he expects her the least, he read. Her eyes are daring, determined, the color of a sky he'd never seen. She is always surrounded by colors, and each of her touches leaves the world brighter than it was before. Her golden hair catches the sun, blinding him, and he decides he'd rather lose his sight as he admires her light, than live a life in which he never set his eyes on her.
Her beauty hurts him in a way none of his wounds ever did. His heart already belongs to her, her heart is full of a kindness that will never be meant for him. Such a wonder doesn't deserve to be ruined by him, and his selfish desires. He will love her like the moon loves the sun, and he will watch from afar as her skin covers in painted flowers he wishes he could trace with his lips.
She is everything he can never have.
Bellamy turned a few more pages, hoping he would find something else about her, but he didn't. His heart was beating so fast in his chest it felt about to explode.
These words… there were his. His old self wrote that years ago, but it felt like he wrote them only the day before.
Bellamy laughed.
"Of course," he said out loud, amazed. "Of course!"
He saw it all clearly, as he read. He pictured her in his mind, and it fit perfectly. The number of erasures indicated the shame, the regret to feel the way he felt.
Clarke never manipulated him in the past. Bellamy was the only one responsible for his mistakes.
Bellamy didn't fall in love with Clarke after a few weeks, as she told him about memories he couldn't remember. He loved her already the day she stumbled upon him.
He'd fallen in love with her years ago.
12/03/2016
"When you try your best but you don't succeed.
When you get what you want but not what you need.
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep.
Stuck in reverse."
Clarke was staring at Gina, singing on the stage, as she was sipping her drink.
She'd only arrived five minutes ago, and before then she'd paced in front of the entrance for at least half an hour. It took a lot of courage to come, and even more to go in, knowing it was too late to back up.
The very first thing she heard, as she came in, was Gina's voice. She quickly spotted her from across the room, surrounded by three musicians. She looked calm, and pretty, her eyes closed as concentrated of the song. Gina was right, the place did feel cozy and comfortable.
Yet, Clarke felt chills all the way down her spine, an uneasy feeling settling in her belly. She knew, with absolute certainty, she wouldn't sleep well that night.
But as for that moment, the only thing she could was to wait for the show to be over and prepare herself for what was about to come.
"When the tears come streaming down your face.
'Cause you lose something you can't replace.
When you love someone but it goes to waste.
Could it be worse?"
Clarke looked down at her drink, snorting.
How ironic. She wondered if Gina picked the song especially for her. Such a cruel thing to do. Clarke was probably paranoid – she didn't think Gina was petty enough to do so - or the brunette was particularly good at hiding her true intentions. Either way, Clarke wasn't having a good time.
The show seemed to go on for hours before it finally stopped.
"Thank you everyone! You guys are fantastic!" she heard Gina said, as people applauded them.
Clarke didn't feel in the mood to join everyone. She barely looked up, to spot Gina get off the stage, then she went back to her lonely table and her half-emptied drink. If only Gina could just forget they ever had a meeting planned in the first place, both she and Clarke would go on with their lives pretending nothing happened. Clarke told her she would be there, and she didn't want to be seen as a coward. But she wouldn't mind an oversight of Gina's part.
"Hi."
Clarke startled, and turned around.
Gina was already there, sitting in the booth beside her. She was smiling, lips closed, her eyes almost welcoming.
Once again, Clarke felt lost. She wasn't sure what to expect of this conversation.
"Hi," she replied, feeling a bit impressed by her, in spite of herself. "Great show."
"Thanks. I'm glad you could come," Gina said, and it actually sounded genuine.
Clarke nodded, thinking about all the times she'd changed her mind during the days leading up to that night. She still didn't know what to do a day ago.
"We like to perform here. There are a few regulars, it's always a pleasure to play for them," Gina continued, probably to fill the gaps in conversation.
"You come here every Saturday nights?" Clarke asked her, because staying silent felt rude.
"Almost. We perform in other bars, too."
"Oh, cool."
Once again, they found themselves out of ideas for things to say. Clarke kind of wanted to cut the crap and get to the point, but it wouldn't do any good.
She cleared her throat.
"Fix You, huh? I really like that song," she said, biting her lip.
She did, it just hurt a little bit.
Gina laughed, but not in mocking, dismissive way. It was a laugh full of fond memories.
"Yeah, that's a classic. I found it very… nostalgic," she explained, smiling.
"I think it's pretty sad," Clarke shrugged.
Gina leaned in, resting her head on her hand.
"Really?"
"I mean…" Clarke sighed. "You can't fix someone. You just gotta accept them the way they are. Sometimes it's not enough."
"Interesting."
Clarke locked eyes with Gina for the first time since she came into the bar, having avoided looking at her all along. The brunette's attention was focused on her, as if analyzing her, but not in a bad way. She seemed intrigued by her words.
"Well, I think it's hopeful," Gina said, straightening. "'Cause even when everything seems lost, there's always a way. As long as you keep trying."
Clarke blinked a few times, not knowing what to say. After all, neither of them was right nor wrong. It was just a song, and it could have hundreds of different meanings.
"Maybe," Clarke murmured, too low for Gina to hear.
Probably sensing the awkward silence would soon make a comeback, Gina ordered a drink. It allowed them both to breathe for a few minutes, but then the brunette turned her whole body towards Clarke, her face serious.
Clarke's heartbeat accelerated, knowing the moment she'd been dreading had come.
"You didn't tell Bellamy, did you?" Gina asked her.
Clarke looked down, visualizing his face in her mind. Being there, with his girlfriend, felt like a betrayal. It was one of the reasons she'd hesitated so much before coming. But he'd been avoiding her, and she didn't have the occasion to tell him.
"No."
Gina nodded, satisfied.
"How is he?" Clarke couldn't help but wonder.
What Gina'd told her last time made her think quite a lot. She didn't know what was going on in his head, and apparently neither did his girlfriend. It was both worrying and intriguing, but Clarke doubted it had anything to do with her. He barely talked to her anyway.
"Fine. Even if he's… somewhere else half of the time."
"What do you mean?" Clarke asked, frowning.
"He's just thinking and thinking… It's not that he doesn't listen to me. Sometimes he doesn't even hear me, and then he feels bad about it."
"Oh."
"Something's bothering him, and I can't quite point out what it is. But I've got my theories," she added, her gaze not leaving Clarke's face.
Clarke's fists clenched under the table as she tried her best to hide her anguish. Fuck.
"Listen, Clarke. I'm not stupid. I've known Bellamy for years. I know how he thinks. When there's something disturbing him, he tries to deal with it on his own and avoids talking about it. And recently, he's been avoiding talking about you."
Gina remained impassive all along, whereas Clarke felt her confidence slowly leaving her body, replaced by a growing panic. Her chest felt heavy.
She swallowed with difficulty, at loss of words.
"I… uh… I'm not…" she stuttered.
"You guys used to spend quite a lot of time together, didn't you?"
Clarke nodded, unable to do anything else.
Gina sighed.
"You know, I truly wondered what happened. I thought maybe you guys had a fight, but then I realized the problem wasn't that he didn't want to see you anymore. It's that he forbids himself to do so."
Clarke's heart dropped.
It couldn't be true.
"He just wants to spend time with you, you just came back-" Clarke finally replied, feeling the need to defend herself.
"It's not that."
Clarke closed her mouth. There was nothing she could say. Gina knew, and she couldn't change her mind.
The brunette hid her face behind her hands for a few seconds, as if exhausted by the discussion. It was the only sign of weakness she'd shown since Clarke had met her. But then she looked up, her eyes sharp.
"Do you love him?" she asked, her voice calm yet firm.
Clarke's eyes widened, shocked by how straightforward the question was. For a second, she hesitated. She could deny it, but there was no use. Gina wasn't waiting for an answer, she was waiting for a confirmation.
So instead, she looked down, admitting it silently.
She couldn't see Gina's reaction, but she knew she understood.
"I don't blame you, you know," she told Clarke. "I know what it's like."
Clarke closed her eyes, hurt. She didn't want to be reminded Bellamy already belonged to someone else, someone so much kinder and accepting than her.
She didn't deserve him.
"Nothing happened," she said, because Gina had to know Bellamy never cheated on her.
"I know. I trust him."
Clarke frowned. Slowly, she raised her head and looked up to stare at the brunette.
"But you don't trust me," she concluded.
Gina winced.
Of course. She had no reason to trust her, she was just a random girl in love with her boyfriend.
"No," Gina admitted. "But I also know he cares about you, more than he wants to admit."
Clarke felt numb, her emotions were all over the place. She didn't even know what to do or think anymore.
"Clarke, I'm going to ask you this... Because I know he won't do it himself, his heart is too big for that."
Clarke waited, her heart already breaking.
"What do you want?"
"I want you to let him go. Please."
Clarke let out a sharp breath, feeling like she'd just been stabbed in the chest. She felt Gina's hand on her arm, almost reassuring. Clarke wanted to scream.
"Please," Gina repeated. "'Cause you know he's not going to leave me, but he won't let you go either. You have to do this, for your sake and his."
A tear rolled down Clarke's cheek. She was completely frozen.
Gina didn't move for so long, Clarke wondered if she was dreaming. It was nightmare. A terrible nightmare. She just wanted to wake up.
But she wouldn't.
Because it was the truth.
And the truth fucking hurt.
"I'm sorry," Gina murmured at last, getting out of the booth, leaving a destroyed Clarke behind her.
