School year over...
Angela comes upstairs, tired and happy from the end of year party that her relations threw for her and Johnny. She grinned with a sort of triumph on her face, as she had met or exceeded all of the goals she'd set for herself. Her parents were proud of her and that felt good.
It was good to see all the people who were important to Angela in this world at the party, and it was especially nice to see Aunt Michelle and Uncle Tony and their two children. It was nice to realize that somewhere, at least, they had their happy ending. She was just sorry her grandfather couldn't see her. She hadn't heard a word from him, which meant that he was either truly dead or still in hiding.
But it was one more of about a thousand reasons for her to want to go back to the bar.
Shutting the door behind her, she leaned against the door and looked around her room. It had changed in the past year and three months. The walls were painted a soft white. Her desk was in the corner, her schedule in plain sight, her school folders color coded, notes for stories, reminders and phone numbers on her cork board. There was a dressing table against one wall, and against another, there was a landscape she'd done--the place where she and Melou had gone swimming while she was in Wales. She'd done it months ago, doing her best from memory.
And everything was meticulously neat. Though Angela was happy outwardly, and happy in general, much of the time she felt a little lost, and a little lonely. She often envied other girls, ones who didn't have friends in impossible to reach places and times, whose boyfriends were in the same world, who didn't feel a terrible longing to go back to a place they couldn't reach under their own power.
Keeping her room spotless, taking care of her own clothes, and making sure her life and routines were in order helped quite a bit with the longing and confusion.
Angela stepped back from the door, turned and looked at herself in the full-length mirror. She grinned at herself. She still didn't think she was all that much to look at. She was constantly surprised by the amount of money she got for standing in front of a camera and being herself, but she did like how she looked now.
She liked herself.
Angela sighed as she turned away from her reflection, going into her walk-in closet. This was as pristine as the rest of her room. She flipped on the lights and went to where she stored her "Milliways" things: the laptop she'd gotten from Cain (which she used for writing), the books she'd recieved from people there, the dress and shoes she'd worn back from Wales, the ring that enabled her to speak Welsh in Melou's world. These things told her it had all been real.
As she knelt at the bottom-most drawer where these things were kept, something in the back of her mind tickled. She shifted her shoulders uncomfortably and turned around.
Across from her was the section of her closet that stored her full-length gowns and dresses. Something tickled her again, and she closed and locked the drawer she was looking into and got up. She went over to the portion of the closet, the tickling increasing in the back of her mind. She pushed the dress hangers out of her way and placed the flat of her hand against the back of the closet. She could feel very subtle vibrations in her fingertips.
Her heart gave a great, painful, hopeful lurch. As it started to beat faster, she took her dresses out of the section and listened. She had to be imagining things, didn't she? It had been so long...
She looked over the panel in the back of her closet, pressing on the corners and around the edges, until suddenly, with a soft click, the back of her closet swung forward. With a small cry, she clapped her hands over her mouth and didn't know quite what to do.
Money. I'll need money, and...I have to figure out how time will pass, and... Angela grabs her purse and her watch, writes down the current time on a slip of paper, and steps through, pulling the door shut behind her.
It was good to see all the people who were important to Angela in this world at the party, and it was especially nice to see Aunt Michelle and Uncle Tony and their two children. It was nice to realize that somewhere, at least, they had their happy ending. She was just sorry her grandfather couldn't see her. She hadn't heard a word from him, which meant that he was either truly dead or still in hiding.
But it was one more of about a thousand reasons for her to want to go back to the bar.
Shutting the door behind her, she leaned against the door and looked around her room. It had changed in the past year and three months. The walls were painted a soft white. Her desk was in the corner, her schedule in plain sight, her school folders color coded, notes for stories, reminders and phone numbers on her cork board. There was a dressing table against one wall, and against another, there was a landscape she'd done--the place where she and Melou had gone swimming while she was in Wales. She'd done it months ago, doing her best from memory.
And everything was meticulously neat. Though Angela was happy outwardly, and happy in general, much of the time she felt a little lost, and a little lonely. She often envied other girls, ones who didn't have friends in impossible to reach places and times, whose boyfriends were in the same world, who didn't feel a terrible longing to go back to a place they couldn't reach under their own power.
Keeping her room spotless, taking care of her own clothes, and making sure her life and routines were in order helped quite a bit with the longing and confusion.
Angela stepped back from the door, turned and looked at herself in the full-length mirror. She grinned at herself. She still didn't think she was all that much to look at. She was constantly surprised by the amount of money she got for standing in front of a camera and being herself, but she did like how she looked now.
She liked herself.
Angela sighed as she turned away from her reflection, going into her walk-in closet. This was as pristine as the rest of her room. She flipped on the lights and went to where she stored her "Milliways" things: the laptop she'd gotten from Cain (which she used for writing), the books she'd recieved from people there, the dress and shoes she'd worn back from Wales, the ring that enabled her to speak Welsh in Melou's world. These things told her it had all been real.
As she knelt at the bottom-most drawer where these things were kept, something in the back of her mind tickled. She shifted her shoulders uncomfortably and turned around.
Across from her was the section of her closet that stored her full-length gowns and dresses. Something tickled her again, and she closed and locked the drawer she was looking into and got up. She went over to the portion of the closet, the tickling increasing in the back of her mind. She pushed the dress hangers out of her way and placed the flat of her hand against the back of the closet. She could feel very subtle vibrations in her fingertips.
Her heart gave a great, painful, hopeful lurch. As it started to beat faster, she took her dresses out of the section and listened. She had to be imagining things, didn't she? It had been so long...
She looked over the panel in the back of her closet, pressing on the corners and around the edges, until suddenly, with a soft click, the back of her closet swung forward. With a small cry, she clapped her hands over her mouth and didn't know quite what to do.
Money. I'll need money, and...I have to figure out how time will pass, and... Angela grabs her purse and her watch, writes down the current time on a slip of paper, and steps through, pulling the door shut behind her.