Thumb Rings and Ballet Slippers
"You've tidied up."
The words were sharp and they hung in the air in a manner that begged to be addressed, but Tugger knew better than to bite at the venom that lay behind the surprise in his house mate's voice so he simply smiled and turned with raised eyebrows.
"I've tidied up."
Quaxo stood in the doorway with his arms crossed and his hair dishevelled, he looked like Tugger felt, on the verge of being still slightly drunk or incredibly hungover. Despite the uneasiness that caused his body to feel rigid, Tugger's smile broadened because Quaxo managed to somehow look so lovely in his unkempt state and for a second he wondered why he couldn't just kiss him and have all this unspoken tension done with. It was silly really, the way both of them pretended the last thing they wanted was to be together when it was evident that they both wanted the same thing. Tugger had thought he'd wanted a fuck from someone he was close with so he didn't feel awful about not sticking around to cuddle, or on the other hand, someone he could hold if he wanted to. Someone who was always there for him to do with what he pleased, someone who he could be there for. Platonic love with a few added extras.
He didn't want that now, he decided that platonic love was the only lie he'd ever told Quaxo and he was quickly losing all reasons for ignoring the affection he felt for the younger man who stood there in the doorway, teasing Tugger with those crossed arms and that dishevelled hair. Why weren't they together?
"Good night?" Quaxo asked, his eyes locked on to Tugger's.
And then the realisation hit Tugger, his chest tightening and his face falling, he recounted the redhead woman who'd left the house while Tugger lay in the bed that had housed them both the following night. That's why they weren't together. Because of that redhead and her green underwear, because of their drunken kisses, because he was the biggest slut in London and he couldn't do that to Quaxo. He'd cheated before and knew that he was perfectly capable of doing it again, despite the inevitable remorse he felt afterwards.
With Bombalurina everything was straightforward, half of the time they were passionately in love and talking about the future and the other half they were sleeping with whatever came their way. Of course, she had not been like that before he came along and she was almost forced to adapt, although she adapted with very little argument. It was different with Quaxo, he couldn't be two sides of a complex coin with him. He'd be Quaxo's and that would be it.
"It was okay," Tugger responded, standing slowly, "How was your sister's? You look slightly rough too."
Quaxo had images of corsets, cheap wine and tea but repressed them long enough to smile and shrug.
"I met her boyfriend, he seems nice," Tugger was making his way over slowly and Quaxo felt himself relax in spite of him trying to maintain a steely exterior,
"Jemima said you called."
Tugger had images of green underwear, beer and cigarettes but he repressed them long enough to place his hands on Quaxo's closed arms and rub them slowly, willing him to keep that steely exterior at bay.
"Just checking in."
Quaxo smirked, his eyes falling to the other's hands and his eyebrow raised in a bemused fashion. He'd promised himself before leaving Victoria's flat, mouth full of honey on toast that Jemima had forced upon him and his hand burning from the protective handshake he'd forced upon Plato, that he would not buy into whatever Tugger threw at him. But then he'd come home and the house was tidy and Tugger was only wearing pyjama trousers. Now, he felt strong arms wrap around him and his hands against a bare chest as slightly rough lips kissed his hair.
"Coffee?" the lips asked, muffled slightly.
"God yes," Quaxo said, his own lips pressed against a bare shoulder, "I've had enough tea to last me a life time."
There was still a conversation to be had about corsets, cheap wine, green underwear and cigarettes but it could wait. It had been so long since Quaxo had a good cup of Tugger's coffee, it had been so long since Tugger had a dishevelled magician grinning at him shyly while being perched on a kitchen counter.
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The first time Jemima woke up it was to a sleeping flat. She'd not had a good night of sleeping, she couldn't forget Tugger's woebegone voice and the fact that Munkustrap still hadn't called her and it had been seven weeks and a day. Yes, she had been counting. She tip-toed into the kitchen, careful not to wake up the sleeping boy on her sofa, and read her book quietly as the sun rose hesitantly, colouring the sky with purples and oranges. When they all woke up, she'd made them each a cup of tea and a piece of toast before deciding to retire back to bed with the hopes of getting a few hours sleep at least.
The second time Jemima woke up it was to two blondes in her kitchen, blocking her kettle and making her head spin. She stood there, in an oversized t'shirt that she'd borrowed from Mungojerrie and never managed to give back, and blinked in surprise as her room mate turned to throw her a dimpled smile. She could tell from the way that Victoria was basically vibrating with excitement that something good had happened but was too thrown to bring herself to query it as another blonde was still sat on the kitchen counter, right in front of her kettle, and watching her with a thin smile.
"Morning," Victoria said, her voice slightly higher than usual and Jemima noted that she looked more radiant than ever. Her pale cheeks were flushed with pink and her blue eyes shone, her platinum hair that was usually tied into that bun of hers fell in waves and seemed to nearly stand on edge as though her exhilaration was projecting itself like electricity and her plump lips were pulled taut against white teeth. Despite her best friend being so obviously pleased and looking lovelier than Jemima had ever seen her, she couldn't get past the other blonde that was blocking her way to the kettle.
"Plato seems to have morphed overnight," Jemima said, nodding with a little smile at the stranger which caused Victoria to blink in surprise before breaking into a flurry of little giggles.
"Oh gosh, I'm sorry! This is Etcetera, the one I met at the audition?"
Etcetera would be a dancer, Jemima thought, with her long and elegant limbs and sweet smile. She recounted Victoria mentioning her occasionally and knew that the two had kept in touch through phone or now and again Etcetera would go to Victoria's café for a cup of coffee. It dawned on her that perhaps Victoria's happiness was because of her audition and she felt excitement creep on her too that she kept to herself quietly in case she was wrong, as it was always embarrassing when Jemima guessed wrong about Victoria's dancing. Etcetera was everything Jemima had expected, she was around the same height as Victoria and freckled, her hair was wheat coloured and her smile was contagious. Immediately, Jemima realised why Victoria would want this girl to be her friend.
"Nice to meet you," Etcetera jumped down from the kitchen counter and outstretched a hand, Jemima took it and smiled back.
"Hello."
Victoria was about to burst, Jemima could feel it. Her friend was rocking on her heels and grinning madly, Etcetera caught her eye and started to chuckle.
"Aren't you going to tell her?" Etcetera said quietly, nodding at Jemima.
"It's too early, she won't listen properly."
Etcetera looked confused and Jemima started to laugh as she opened up the top cupboard and stood on tip-toe so that she could reach her mug before flicking the kettle on. Victoria smirked a little too and ran a hand through her hair, her blue eyes watching as her younger friend placed a tea bag into the mug and stood back to wait for the water to boil patiently.
"Jemima can't comprehend anything before having a cup of tea," Victoria explained, "Although it is mid-day and she's been lazy all morning."
"I'm unemployed and it's Saturday, what else can you expect?"
After Jemima had made her tea and taken a sip, she blinked up expectantly at Victoria who immediately let the good news fall from her lips nearly without any elegance but of course there was always a grace to whatever Victoria did.
"I got it. The thing Cassandra put me up for. Like, I'm going to be on TV and dancing and it's going to be great."
Jemima almost threw her tea, she didn't of course as it would feel like an act of extreme blasphemy, so instead she placed it gently on the counter before lunging at her friend and enveloping the older girl in an embrace of giggles and mahogany hair that brushed against her cheek as Jemima wrapped her arms around her neck.
"Congratulations," she cooed as Victoria laughed, trying to steady herself, "Have you told your brother? Plato? Oh my God, have you rang the rich Uncle? He might send champagne!"
"I wanted to tell you first," Jemima felt her cheeks flush with pride, "Well, expect for Etcetera of course, but she asked me."
Etcetera was sat on the counter again, her legs swinging and a smile still on her face and Jemima couldn't help but wonder if her cheeks hurt from that huge grin of hers.
"How did you do?" the youngest queried politely.
"I've got a call back," Etcetera said with a shrug, "Though I doubt I'll get it. I'm quite new to all of it and I'm no way near as good as the ballet ninja over there."
"Don't listen to her," Victoria interjected, "She's fabulous."
Jemima felt increasingly proud to be Victoria's friend as the blonde boosted Etcetera's ego so effortlessly, she could have so easily shifted the attention back to her but she didn't, she displayed modesty and kindness and it was reassuring. Despite the younger being so obviously proud of her friend, she couldn't help but feel less and less useful. While Victoria's life seemed to be taking shape, it seemed as though Jemima's was getting progressively more muddled. She didn't voice the concerns, she grinned and announced that they should go out to dinner later that evening to celebrate and that of course Etcetera could come, Victoria should probably ring Plato too and her brother.
Victoria almost cried for the third time that day. She knew it was a silly thing to do, that this job was nowhere near her ideal and she still had a long way to go before she became the Prima Ballerina that she wanted to be, but it was a step closer. When George had rang her she maintained a professional composure until he'd hung up after giving her the details of the first rehearsal, then she did a victory lap of her living room and resisted the urge to charge into Jemima's room and wake the sleeping girl with the good news. Her mind was busy scanning over all of the things she needed to do before the rehearsal in three weeks time, thinking of how she'd word her letter of resignation to the café, how she'd have to up her dance practice now so she was on top of her game because she didn't plan to be the limpy gazelle in the group of dancers she'd be part of, how she had to get into the shower immediately so that she looked fresh faced for the dinner Jemima had suggested.
"I'm going to ring Plato," Victoria said with one last radiant beam before planting a kiss on her best friend's cheek, "I'll be right down in like two minutes, can you two ladies entertain yourselves?"
Etcetera nodded enthusiastically, for she had always been eager to form new friendships. It had always come easy to the freckled girl, with her wide smile and sunny disposition. Jemima winked at Victoria as her room mate left, motioning for Etcetera to follow her into the living room. It was quiet for all of two seconds before Etcetera began chattering.
"Vicky tells me you sing?" she said, crossing her legs as she sat back in the couch's cushions that were still in slight disarray from Plato lounging on them all night. Jemima blinked in surprise, there was no reservations about this girl but she supposed it made making small talk easier.
"Yeah, I sing a little," she replied, keeping her tone airy and her smile warm, "Still learning though."
"And you're unemployed?" Etcetera noticed as Jemima's eyebrows went up her forehead an inch before giggling, "Sorry. That was a bit brash."
"No, not at all," the smaller girl said, her smile faltering for half a second before regaining composure, "And yes, I'm unemployed."
"Would you like a job?"
The questions were coming fast and heavy as if Jemima were in a hail storm without an umbrella or any means to get to shelter but Etcetera spoke so sweetly, that grin never shifting and her eyes crinkled at the corners in a manner that was incredibly endearing.
"Of course," Jemima answered, because there was no need to avoid questions now.
"I can get you one," Etcetera said finally, "The place I work, one of the girls has gotten pregnant and its looking like she's not coming back after her maternity leave. It's about twenty minutes away from here, just by the student housing. I think you'd be good at it, I mean, you seem the type. All smiley and stuff, get me? Wait. You're eighteen, right?"
"Nineteen," the reply came as the dark-haired girl tried to keep up as the words fell continuously from the stranger's mouth, "What kind of job would this be?"
"Just a little bar work, nothing too heavy," Jemima tried to resist wrinkling her nose. She was not in on the bar scene and quite frankly did not want to be, she pictured men with rounded midriffs and balding heads yelling slurs at her as they poured beer half-down their throats and half-down their shirts.
"You seem like an artist, Jemima," Etcetera said, leaning forward and her eyes shining, "You just have to look at this place to know that you're not just another face in the crowd, you're creative, you have something to give. The place I work is not just another seedy bar in London, it's creative and it has something to give. It might be a bit rough around the edges but it could do with someone like you, all wide-eyed and sweet to smooth it out. Plus, the pay isn't bad and you get to keep any tips, of which there are many. You'd be working evenings and nights which gives you plenty of time to commit yourself to your singing stuff and the boss is the best."
"You seem pretty passionate about it," Jemima offered with a weak smile, already feeling the pros and cons way up in her head.
"Don't get me wrong, I don't want to be stuck there forever but I like the people there, I like making friends and it's great for making friends."
The dark-haired girl was nearly persuaded, perhaps it was stupid of herself to be so trusting of this person she barely knew. But she needed the money. She thought of Victoria upstairs, excitedly telling her boyfriend about her success and she felt sick about being so useless in comparison. What would happen when rent came around and Jemima couldn't pay her half? Would she have to ask Bombalurina or Uncle Skimble and Auntie Jenny to help out? Would she have to borrow from Victoria? So she found herself nodding.
"Okay.. Okay, how do I go about this?"
Etcetera's grin spread wider across her face and the other girl began to get increasingly worried that she'd split her face in half by smiling so much.
"We'll say on Monday, Monday's an easy night, if you show up around about five then you'll have time to talk to the boss and be shown the ropes. What's your size, by the way?"
"Size?"
"Clothing-wise."
"Like an eight?" Etcetera's eyes scanned her quickly before nodding.
"Okay," she let out a squeal, "You'll love it. Honestly. It doesn't get much better than this."
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Plato hung up with a proud grin before walking into the living room, his arm swinging slightly and his stride confident. His youngest brother lounged on the sofa while his other brother was stroking the wall where a dent had appeared around about a week ago, his lips turned down into a small frown. Plato liked to think he fit into the big brother role well, that both of the younger boys looked appropriately watered and fed (although they were both old enough to be living on their own and taking care of themselves by now) and he knew that their relationship was good, that the boys would come to him if anything was troubling them and it made him proud. But then the dent in the wall reminded him that he was far from Admetus when it came to be consistent, he felt his proud smile waver for a second before returning quickly because there was no way he'd let the two younger boys know how sad that dent made him feel.
"You saw each other all yesterday," Pouncival said, sitting up straight with a raised eyebrow, "What can you possible have left to talk about?"
"She's got a job, a dancing job, we're going out to dinner tonight to celebrate. Will you two idiots manage to handle yourselves without me?" Pouncival rolled his eyes but he had that goofy grin on his face which let Plato know that he was relishing the thought of not having his older brother hover over him whilst he ate pizza and drank beer in front of the TV.
"Will you be coming home tonight?" Tumblebrutus said, his eyes ripping away from the wall for a moment.
"Yeah. I have early morning gym class with my old people tomorrow," Plato said with a grin, rolling his shoulders back as he sunk beside the youngest on the sofa.
Tumblebrutus smiled a little before looking back at the wall, the way his shoulders tensed and his jaw locked let Plato know he was holding in a sigh and he felt his chest tighten with guilt again. Admetus wouldn't have made that dent, that dent that shone so proudly in the plaster as if it knew the effect it had on Plato.
"I'll get that re-plastered, Tumble," Plato said softly, making the younger boy blink in surprise and turn. Pouncival ran a hand uneasily through his hair before laying back into the sofa again.
"I wasn't trying to..." Tumblebrutus started, almost defensively.
"I know," Plato replied, his words calm and his lips turned into an understanding smile, "I know you weren't but it's my fault and I'm sorry, I really am."
Admetus wouldn't have made that dent. It had been a week since Plato's last bad episode, up until then it had been around three months. He'd tripped over something Pouncival had lazily left on the floor, he remembered feeling his body start to tremor and he knew that he had to calm himself before he got progressively more angry so he'd poured himself a glass of water and tried to steady his quivering hand so he didn't spill any. Tumblebrutus had good-naturedly asked him if he was okay but his kind words echoed around his head as though someone had let off a cannon right next to him. Head pressure, tremors, tightness in the chest.
"Are you okay?" Tumble had said, placing a hand on his older brother's shoulder.
"I'd be much better if that lazy fucker could clean up after himself," he replied through gritted teeth.
Plato recognised the symptoms, he knew what was happening but that didn't stop him from first chucking the glass at the wall. Then, when Pouncival had dashed down the stairs upon hearing the crashing of glass and Tumblebrutus speaking hurriedly, trying to calm his brother, Plato had picked up the object that started it all off and threw it full force after the glass which caused the wall to dent and plaster to sprinkle off as the object clunked to the floor, turns out it had been Pouncival's wireless stereo that had broken earlier that day while he was out doing a street performance after work.
"You're not a fucking child! Deal with your own mess!" Plato had yelled and it seemed as though the whole house shook. He pushed past Tumblebrutus and stormed upstairs, closing himself in his room to wait until his head hurt less, his body stilled and the tightness in his chest passed away.
He remembered that as the feelings of blind rage subsided and were replaced with remorse and embarrassment he started to think of Victoria, what would he do if one day his gentlemanly exterior melted away to show the idiot that chucked things at walls and yelled at his brothers? He had pictured her face, how she'd stare at him with those lovely eyes and there'd be nothing but fear in them, or perhaps anger too. He could hear Pouncival comforting Tumblebrutus, who had always been the more sensitive out of the group of brothers, and guilt washed over him and made him go downstairs to start cooking for them all while continuously murmuring apologies.
Admetus wouldn't have made that fucking dent.
((A/N: This took a while to upload, thank you all for bearing with me! I hope this was worth the wait and again, if you have any critiques you'd like to give me then I'd be really appreciative c: Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, it really makes my day!))