A/N: I don't own anything! Abit of an angst chapter..the fun begins chapter 3 ;D
The smell of coffee wafted through the air of our small cottage, my room glowed in the morning light and outside I could hear the gentle stirrings of life. Though I personally had not slept a fucking wink. I sighed and tried to push thoughts of the redhead away. She didn't want you, Naomi. You poured out your soul. You pretty much threw your heart to the wolves. I shook my head and got out of bed, stretching my long limbs and glancing at the mirror in the corner of my room. In six years I hadn't changed much. My hair was longer, highlighting its natural wave and was still peroxide blonde but I had a side fringe that fell over my right eye. I was still the same height but my build had become wirier. I slipped some underwear on and a t-shirt. Even in six years I still didn't wear pyjamas, Emily was my pyjamas.
"Good morning", I said picking up a mug of coffee and nodding at Effy. Her response as usual was a grunt and bleary-eyed blink. She had never been a morning person, usually rising after noon but today she had an opening for a new collection of photographs.
To an outsider Effy was unreadable and expressionless, but I knew her better. I could see the bubbling excitement and nerves in her swigs of coffee and tapping foot. As was tradition I always went to Effy's openings for support, unbeknownst to her I had spoken to my editor and I was writing an article on her and her work. I was excited to see her newest collection it was always engaging and inspirational. She could make anything beautiful, from the most desolate landscapes, run down buildings and crying children.
I looked at Effy from behind my mug. She was as Freddie had said on our first day of college, beautiful. Her forest brown hair was long and wild, her eyes were a bottomless ocean of greens and blues and age had only improved her. Her cheekbones were more defined, her skins flawless and her body still that of the seventeen-year-old girl I first met wandering the college halls. Effy had had a few lovers over the years but none had stuck. The word 'love' never used. I knew she still waited for Freddie. That she dreamt like me of pasted love. Lost love. She loved a ghost. I remember the day I saw my first glimpse of the real Effy. The day her world ended. The day she saw his funeral notice.
The smell of body odour, vomit and garbage filled my nostrils and I felt my stomach turn over. The alleyway was hard and rough beneath my body and I ached all over. Another night of being monumentally fucked up was taking its toll. I felt like an eighty five year old woman; tired, aching and my blood pumped through my veins like painful custard.
I looked at Effy sleeping on my shoulder, her eyes fluttered open with my movements and she stared at me. I knew what she was saying and I nodded. We couldn't keep running. She had run with Cook and she knew that nothing good came from it.
I sighed and lit up a fag, drawing in the nicotine deep into my lungs. Effy stood and stretched, only to fall back against the wall and fall down. We both exploded with laughter, still fucked from the night before. The lingering traces of booze and pills fluttering through our bloodstream. We laughed so much until we were rolling around the ground, almost hysterically. Suddenly Effy stopped laughed and stared down at her hand. I looked at her, and saw she was shaking.
"Effy. What is it? What's wrong" I said in a croaky voice, sore from a night of screaming and yelling.
She shook her head, and began to rock back and forward. Continuously shaking her head.
"Effy" I said it louder, gently touching her shoulder yet pulling away when she physically flinched. She mumbled "no" under breath, shaking her head and rocking back and forward. She was entranced. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a crumpled piece of paper in her hand. I pried it from her hand and stared at it. It was a newspaper page.
"Fucking hell", I choked out the words as my chest tightened. No. It couldn't be. . No. No
Freddie was dead. Dead. Dead. Freddie. Effy. Effy's Freddie. I shook, as tears welled in my eyes, blurring the words on the page.
In loving Memory of
Frederick Mclair
1992-2010
You were taken from us,
But will live on in our hearts.
I dropped the paper and stared at Effy, her mantra of 'no' had grown into louder and was quickly ascending. I stood entranced until her screams bounced off the wall and I wrapped my arms around her, sitting with her in the filthy, smelly alley. Our tears entwining on the pavement.
I shuddered as I stared myself in the mirror, fiddling with my bangles. Effy couldn't move, speak or stop rocking. I took her to a local motel, it was scummy but it was better than nothing. I placed her in the shower, cleaning her up and trying to calm her down. Nothing worked. She could not be awoken from her trance, 'no' had turned into 'Freddie' but she didn't scream it just quietly whispered it. It was agony. She unravelled. Wouldn't touch food or drink. Just laid in bed, I had never seen anything like it. In reality as I look back on it, this was truly the end of the old Effy. She had lost her soul. She was a vessel. She was just an empty meaningless void. I couldn't help her. I couldn't comfort her. I could just hold her. Feed her. We stayed in that nameless town for a month. And with each coming day, Effy improved. She never spoke of what had happened. Never acknowledged Freddie's death but I knew that it was Freddie's voice inside her head that saved Effy.
As I slipped out of the house with Effy, I couldn't help but admire her. She had been through so much, but she was still so strong, She was broken. Shattered. But she lived on, like a flower burnt, she had regrown into the beautiful successful artist and woman she was today.
"Naomi, stop fucking daydreaming and get in the car", Effy said, rolling her eyes at me and hopping in.
"Sorry Ef" I whispered, smiling slightly.
I glanced around the crowded gallery and took a slip of my champagne. I always felt so out of place at these events. The higher and middle class of London mingled together, gazing at the huge pictures on the walls, slipping champagne with thoughtful expressions and whispering quickly to their companions. It was a hit. I felt myself swell with pride at Effy's success and how far we had come. We may be lonely losers, but we were successful hot lonely losers.
I smiled to myself, and wandered around the gallery and smirked as I caught sight of Effy deep in conversation with a tall attractive older man. She caught my eye and raised her eyebrow, I raised my glass in congratulations, she nodded a thank you before turning back to her companion.
Oh yeah, Effy was so going to get some time with some attractive and charming male tonight. I sighed and thought about the last time I'd had sex. I think my libido was similar to that of an old nun. Males. Females. I had experienced enough with both, it may have had passion but the emotion always lacked for me. I was still waiting for fucking Emily in that doorway. I growled. Fuck her. Fuck it. I sculled my drink, and grabbed another. I was going to get laid tonight. I need it. I need to forget and have some fun.
