FIC: variations on an ending: love will tear us apart. again. [1/3] (Katie, JJ)
Enough stalling. I wrote this literally *months* ago. I've been all weird and shy about posting it (mostly because I think JJ's chapter is the weakest). But whatever, it's not doing me any good just sitting around.
Title: Variations on an Ending: Love Will Tear Us Apart, Again (1/3)
Author:
eskimo_jo
Disclaimer: The names of all characters contained here-in are the property of Skins, Company Pictures, & Channel4. No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission. Do not archive without permission.
Pairing: Naomi/Emily, implications of numerous other kinds (Effy/Cook, Effy/Naomi, Naomi/Cook, Katie/JJ, Katie/Effy, Cook/Katie, Emily/JJ...just about all the combos if you look hard enough).
Category: Angst
Rating: R.
Warnings: Excessive swearing/drug use/adult themes/character death/possibly a few triggering references (self-harm, animal testing). You name it, it's in here.
Summary: Naomi and Emily's breakup as seen through the people around them.
Notes:
1. This started with a much simpler idea in mind. I ended up going into each character a little deeper than planned, and although it may not appear that way in the beginning, this is a Naomi/Emily story. It's a little different in that it's about them, but without either of them actually having a point of view in the story. All the details surrounding their situation are left to the imagination to ultimately decide, but I just wanted to see the reaction from other characters.
2. I loathe chapters. I do. But I've split it up simply because it makes it easier for everyone else. There is a .PDF available if you prefer. Here in full-page format; here in book format, lol. No particular reason why. There are a few typos & mistakes in the PDF simply cos I'm too lazy to reupload the edits.
3. The fanmix is here.
Breakdown:
Chapter 1: Katie - Wait It Out (Jealousy)
envy: unduly suspicious or fearful of being displaced by a rival
Chapter 2: JJ - The Ice Is Getting Thinner (Ennui)
boredom: a gripping listlessness or melancholia caused by boredom; depression
Chapter 3: Effy - Lost Cause (Deception)
magic trick: designed to mislead either deliberately or inadvertently
Chapter 4: Cook - My Memory Escaped Me (Misery)
wretched: a state of ill-being due to affliction or misfortune
Chapter 5: Katie - Second Chances (Revenge)
retaliation: action taken in return for an injury or offense
Chapter 6: Gina - For all the Widows in Paradise, for the Fatherless in Ypsilanti (Deliverance)
rescue: recovery or preservation from loss or danger
“Maybe part of loving is learning to let go.” ~The Wonder Years
KATIE - Wait It Out
Jealousy
Emily had it wrong the whole time. So much for being the clever twin. All up herself thinking she had it all sorted. And she had been lucky that her strong head-butt, Katie's pre-existing head injury and the pure embarrassment of standing in front of the whole form looking like a proper mess, had been enough to stun her twin into silence with her completely off-base accusation. Emily was just so fucking wrong, sometimes.
Katie thought about it now. As if she was upset about Emily being different, as if that was a huge fucking shock. Of course they were bloody different and it was even more obvious that she wasn't Katie. It had never been about that. It wasn't that Katie had been worried that Emily wasn't going to be her double anymore, she was terrified that she was turning into Emily, terrified that they were the same.
Like hell she'd want Emily to be her. There could only be one Katie Fitch, but to be Katie Fitch there needed to be an Emily Fitch. There needed to be the back-up plan, the shadow, the comparison, the girl she could stand beside and look so much better than, relatively speaking. And even more so, there needed to be Emily, dear quiet Emily, that could be her sounding board for when she came up with a witty, or often just plain poisonous, insult and she whispered it just loud enough for other people to overhear, and remark, “Oh, Katie, you're so right!” (or “cheeky” or “rude” or “funny” or “bitchy” or “clever”. Any of the above worked. They were all compliments to her, after all.)
What didn't work is coming up with such barbs and saying them out loud to an empty space beside her. Then she just looked like bloody Pandora space-case, or something. Fucking talking to herself like some mad homeless pigeon lady who lives in the park and eats chewing gum wrappers. Or goddamn Naomi Campbell always rolling those annoying eyes at no one - like anyone actually gives a shit if her Highness doesn't think something is appropriate.
It was all her fault anyway. Fucking twat. If she hadn't come around, prancing around her sister and acting like such a blind stupid cow (which was obviously Emily's type) everything would still be fine and she wouldn't be sitting on the couch glaring at them across the room as JJ shifts obviously uncomfortably beside her and babbles about something completely fucking boring. She wouldn't be sulking, forgotten, as Emily throws her head back with a laugh that Katie can hear sparkling all the way over here. Naomi can not possibly be that brilliant.
Her eyes narrow as she watches her sister focus again on that blonde colourblind giant, her laughter settling, but the smile unwavering. She is fairly certain that she's going to be ill. And then Naomi fucking Campbell, carpet-munching Queen of everything cold and unholy, reaches forward and tucks a lock of red hair behind her sister's ear. It's so fucking lovey and sweet and Naomi's face matches her own sister's lovestruck dopey face so exactly that any one part of that scene alone is enough for Katie to, at any second, hurl all over JJ's lap. It's like no one else in the world even matters anymore.
And it had been that way since college had started. There was no use pretending it only began after the Love Ball because even before that when Emily wasn't lying about not being with Naomi, she was thinking about it, or worse doing it and for the life of her, Katie couldn't see what the big huge deal was anyway. As if that shitstain was anything special. But everyday since Naomi came to Cook's massive cock-up of a birthday party, Katie started losing her shadow. Emily's mind was elsewhere, no doubt somewhere between Naomi's legs - metaphorically, of course. Katie couldn't - wouldn't - accept otherwise, because that really must be love or something.
No. She wasn't upset about Emily being gay. So what? Less competition really. But that was easy to deflect onto. She could scream and bitch and downright beg about that and her pride would be intact. She'd rather be a bigot than a baby. (And honestly, Katie just really didn't like when Emily did things first.) So, that's what it became. And it was made particularly easy since her hatred for Naomi Campbell was pre-existing. Couldn't a girl just not like another girl for no other reason than said other girl was a complete and utter fucking twat, always has been, always will be?
But she couldn't tell Emily why, not the truth. Emily resented her enough as it was, even she could see that, but it just looked bad and Katie hated looking bad, literally and figuratively. It was more than just losing her ability to impress other people by using Emily like a pet. (A less pretty and charming pet). Katie knew she didn't have anyone, not really, other than Emily. She wasn't stupid and saw her friends for what they were most of the time. Outside the prying eyes of their classmates, they were sisters. Blood thicker than water or some bullshit. But that all changed. Emily's solitary journey began. It was for this exact reason that she hated everything that Naomi Campbell represented.
She gave Emily courage and confidence and light (even though the dumb cunt totally didn't even deserve her sister's affections) and Emily stepped away and Katie became the shadow. She was the one forgotten at a party beside the weird guy in a corner. She was the one that was asked along as an afterthought, just because they had invited Emily in front of her, and it would just be impolite not to extend it to her as well. She was the one stuck rushing to pull on her shoes as Emily whined about how Naomi was waiting and if she didn't hurry, she wasn't going to get a ride to college since Naomi had no reservations about leaving Katie behind. Where on earth the hobo-hippie cow had even gotten a car was a mystery even if it was a shitbox on wheels, but it was still better than walking alone like a total loser.
And she detested it all. Emily was just fucking rays of sunshine, except when she and the stroppy bitch were fighting, which was often enough, but even then Katie couldn't catch a fucking break because those blinding rays turned into massive thunderstorms that obliterated her either way. And that might be worse just because it was evidence --solid evidence-- that they cared about each other that much for things to matter enough to fight. Katie never cared enough to fight with any of her boyfriends. They were twats, that was accepted and she didn't really care, not really. Not the way Naomi and Emily care too much.
Everything was backwards and upside down and Katie had a hard enough time the right side around. It had taken practice and patience to build the reputation and confidence she had before. It was a fucking chore to become that normal (but fucking hot), and Emily (who couldn't be normal if it whacked her up the fanny) had no idea how damn hard it had been to use all that jealousy towards her (just because she got tits before all the other girls, and then got all the attention first too) and translate it into power. And then keeping it, all the games and things she had to do to convince everyone that she was top bitch. Some secrets even twins can't share.
And all that meant nothing now. JJ's stopped talking somewhere along the way and instead is bouncing his knee in the most annoying way possible, as she sits and glares, and chews what was once a perfectly manicured nail. The red paint chips off in tiny pieces and she moves onto the next nail. And there's Emily chatting to some fit bloke, her drink splashing over the rim of her cup as she gestures animatedly about something, likely something painfully stupid and boring, and he laughs - and not just politely like boys used to humour her when Katie was beside her. Poor sod probably doesn't even realise he's completely wasting his time since her raging lesbian sister only has eyes for the ugliest damn person in the world.
Speaking of the she-Devil, Naomi comes up beside them, eyes flashing with something indescribable and Katie knows that there is a 70% chance that there will be a thunderstorm at home tonight but being the coward that she is, Naomi stands there fiddling with her own drink cup, eying Emily in an almost insultingly distrustful way. If Katie was half of who she used to be, before being knocked down twice and being stuffed back into the dark corner like the spastic cousin at a family reunion, she would have walked up to Naomi and swiped that poisonous look off her equally poisonous face. But now she just watches and waits. Fucking JJ starts up again and nudges her to pay attention and she gives in briefly, if only to keep him around so she's not alone on the sofa. She forces a smile when he does even though she hasn't the faintest what on earth he's talking about. By the time she turns back around, Naomi's got on that shit-eating grin again and dumb, happy Emily is wrapped around her like a bloody ape-baby on its mother's back.
Fucking Naomi Campbell is smirking in that completely repugnant way of hers. It's like she fucking just knows what she's done. Like she's completely aware how much she's fucked things up for Katie, even if she's never even acknowledged her presence the entire night.
A few months ago, Emily stopped trying to get Naomi and Katie to be nice to each other. It wasn't because she and Naomi had come to some sort of peace treaty to offer or whatever gay shit the two of them thought up, but it was more like Emily just... forgot to care anymore. Like it didn't even matter. There was Naomi and Emily, and that was it. But it still didn't stop Naomi from purposely doing things, small, inconsequential ones, to bait Katie. It worked sometimes, but Emily didn't even notice how unhappy she was around Naomi, who had informed her one night at a very similar and horrible party that “Payback's a bitch, eh, Katiekins?” And in a sense Katie knew that it was revenge, that she had brought on Naomi's behaviour herself after years of taunts and generally trying her hardest to make the blonde's life miserable. But, now, Naomi could stop. She'd obviously won. She didn't stop though and anytime Katie broached the subject with Emily --if and when she wasn't at Naomi's-- Emily would shrug, mutter something about just “trying harder, yeah” and poke at her bloody mobile until 1 in the morning to her giant twat of a girlfriend.
Everything was pushed aside for cuntface Naomi. She had lost her sister. And this is what Katie had been scared of from the very beginning. This is why sometimes, even before the camping trip from Hell, she had sobbed in the shower (just so no one would know). At this point, she isn't sure if she is even a shadow anymore. She is nobody and not even her twin sister can see her.
So she turns quickly to JJ, seeing a spark of surprise (or maybe fear) in his eyes. And then she kisses him. Hard. Much harder than necessary and it's sloppy and awkward, but it's loud and when she's done, she straightens her top and glances around coyly. A smile is creeping slowly onto JJ's stunned face, but it's nothing compared to the aghast look on her sister's face across the room. Katie wipes a sleeve over her mouth daintily. It's the only thing she can do to stop herself from laughing out loud. She stands, pulls at her skirt quickly and strolls over to the counter, grabbing an empty cup, filling it halfway with vodka and winking at her sister. Naomi's eyes narrow suspiciously, darting between she, Emily and JJ like there is finally something she is not privy to. At fucking last, Katie thinks taking joy in Naomi's lack of inclusion and notices with a feeling of victory when Emily pulls her hand away from the tenuous grasp Naomi previously had.
“Aren't you going to offer me some mix, Ems?” Katie says, trilling in a way she had thought she had forgotten. Emily's hand is tightly clasped around the bottle of Irn-Bru, but the question slowly sinks in and she pushes it forward slowly, her face a mess of confusion. There's a brief moment where Katie's pouring and the other two girls are mutely staring at her. She had forgotten what it was like to have other people's gazes burning into her skin. It's warm and comfortable somehow.
Katie turns on her heel and waltzes back to JJ, tossing a cheeky look over her shoulder at her twin and her obnoxious fucking girlfriend. Emily's still staring like she's seen a ghost and Naomi is, well, it doesn't really matter because she looks like that normally anyway. It's almost nostalgically familiar. She settles into JJ's lap, offers him a sip which of course he declines, and she cuts a glance at her sister again.
Yep, she's watching with that oh so recognizable wounded puppy-dog look on her face.
Katie Fitch isn't anybody's fucking shadow.
JJ - The Ice Is Getting Thinner
Ennui
JJ likes Emily.
Emily likes JJ.
He and Emily were quite good friends, at least he assumed they were, which made the situation he was currently in just beyond the border of confounding. After all, he enjoyed shagging her, purely as friends of course, and really would not turn down the opportunity to do it again. However being in her home at this particular instant had little to do with their friendship and far more to do with her twin's rather indifferent yet somehow convincing demands.
It smells the same. It smells the same as when he and Freddie had been sat right in the same room prior to the Love Ball. It is a curious scent; like something organic (homemade stew perhaps) mixed with peppermint handsoap and some kind of hairspray. Normally hairspray tickled his nostrils in an unpleasant way, especially the way girls at school chose to cover themselves in it. But in this house it just hangs in the air unassumingly. It actually smells distinctly like Katie Fitch. (Not like Emily, no. She doesn't use beauty products as far as JJ knew.) It all reminds him of alcohol somehow. Likely due to the fact that whenever he had spent any sort of time with Katie, her breath (hot and sweet) had been laced with the same, so much so that he often could taste it on his own lips. Power of association. He wasn't sure he liked the taste. And even more so, it's like that time camping in the woods when everything had gone to pot, and Emily had mistaken Katie's sleeping bag for her own, laid it out beside him and grinned. (He could remember it clearly. It was at him but not for him, like they were sharing a secret (He hated secrets) but he was clueless what it was. She was high on mushrooms (a risky behaviour) so it was very possible she did think they were sharing a secret.) Then Naomi had crawled in, smelling almost identical to Katie. A cloud of weed aroma following her in as she giggled and tossed her own blanket onto Emily's, the alcopops she had obviously consumed leaving their sickly scent in the confined space. JJ also remembers ho she said nothing to him at the time, even though it was his tent. Her glazed eyes had focussed (as best they could under the conditions) only on Emily.
Something had turned in his stomach at that point. That was also a vivid memory. That was the reason for Emily's smile. She wasn't sharing a secret with him. It was with Naomi. And as Naomi rather rudely invited herself into his tent without thanks, he could swear a familiar memory surfaced and he sat silently as both girls lay staring at the roof of the tent (his tent), murmuring to each other and giggling occasionally.
Emily was supposed to be his friend, not Naomi's, not after that night at the Roxy. He was better. Maybe he didn't start pointless arguments in Politics class like her, but he was there. Always there. Reliable old JJ. Always there. For Cook, for Freds, for Emily. And they were only ever there for him when it was convenient. Resentment had settled in towards both Emily and Naomi for taking advantage. That was, until Emily had turned to him and asked what he thought about dinosaurs. It was a strange topic for late night conversation but he wouldn't turn down an opportunity to tell Naomi (who was saying that she didn't like nor believe in dinosaurs) something she didn't already pretend to know everything about. They had both fallen asleep while he was talking but to be fair, when he looked at the digital display on his wristwatch, he had been going on for about 21 minutes straight.
But he remembers at that point missing Cook.
That night changed everyone, including, for some unfathomable reason, himself. He had woken up during the night, after a nightmare, by a jostling sort of movement. The air in the tent was overly warm and heavy breathing next to him was laced with alcohol still. If such things as sauna pubs existed, he was certain it would smell like that. He focussed on his thoughts and tried to stop wondering which of the girls next to him was also having a nightmare.
In the morning, the girls were out of the his tent before him and rest had improved his mood exponentially. His mother always said he was a grouch when overtired. He followed them, made comment to which they responded similarly to the previous night, like they were sharing a secret again. It wasn't until he bent down to grab a Tic-Tac that his brain came to a startling conclusion. His tent, inside, it smelled like his room after he shagged Emily. Logic being JJ's strong point left no doubt what had occurred between she and Naomi last night. Instantly things were wrong, and the world was too bright and too loud, and his mind spun with implications. Distraction was necessary. Tic-Tacs. Wheels spun and absences were noted aloud. Thank God. For the rest of the day, despite the fear of losing Katie, searching everywhere, calling, Emily kept smiling and touching Naomi at every opportunity. No one else seemed to notice how odd that was. It wasn't normal.
“JJ,” Katie's voice seems piercing and unpleasant in contrast to his quiet memories, even though in reality she was sounding much less abrasive than usual. Once he meets her eyes, shifting uncomfortably beside her, she shakes her head.
“You're such a spaz. Where's your head at anyway?”
She's smiling but to him it feels like more of an accusation. (He doesn't doubt she has a soft spot for him now and not just because he's not terrible at sex anymore.) He can't tell her he was thinking about her sister because as socially inept as he's told he is, he's fairly certain that is a taboo, especially if teen dramas have imparted any such knowledge. And despite her best efforts, Katie was the polar opposite of Effy Stonem - she was practically transparent.
“Hello! JJ?” She sounds more impatient this time. He forces a timid smile.
“Sorry, Katie.” She looks less forgiving and he decides it would be a bad time to ask if she is just using him because she's obviously lonely and it's a perfect method for revenge on her twin. Quite frankly, he doesn't care as much as he expected to. He's rather lonely too. They seem to have that in common these days, being ignored by people they care about. A twinge in his chest reminds him of Freds, and then a stronger one making him think of Cook. He wishes Cook was here as well. And for some reason, he doesn't think Katie would mind particularly either. They are odd around each other now, but not disagreeable. But he's learned not to ask these things. Experience has taught him that things he thinks are good ideas are usually not in reality.
“God, you're as bad as Emily. Go upstairs and grab me a jumper. I'm cold.”
It's only when he's halfway up the staircase that he realises that she was likely not asking for a jumper at all. He mutters and mentally berates himself but it's too late now. His mind is whirling with ideas how to be suave and fix this but nothing seems right. His palms begin to sweat with the enormity of his mistake and he wills (quite futilely) his heart beat to slow. What would Freddie do? No. That won't do. He'd just shag Effy and that certainly wouldn't fix things with Katie. Cook? Also not good, better perhaps but he can't channel that lazy charm yet. He's too honest and Cook is not.
The corridor is dim, the only light coming through a crack in the door that is emblazoned with “Sexy” in cute cursive. He assumes it must be Katie's though he's never seen her bedroom. (They've shagged a few times now but never here). He pushes on the door tentatively though he's not sure why. It opens another few inches (approximately 5.08 centimetres, really).
If his mistake with Katie had been a serious faux-pas, this one was one of monumentally epic proportions that he couldn't even begin to fathom the consequences. Oh my gid--- FUCK.
They don't see him, although really the only one that could in their current position is Naomi and that fear is enough to root him frozen in place. He suddenly can't feel his arms; they aren't responding to stimulus. He wonders momentarily if shock can induce paralysis in an otherwise physically healthy individual. Emily's face is somewhere between Naomi's legs, her ass in the air, pink knickers still in tact. JJ feels a rush of relief (and a twinge of disappointment to be honest) that if he is caught, he can truthfully say he didn't really see anything. It was a geometric impossibility unless the laws of physics magically changed.
He could see Naomi's face however, screwed up like she is solving a maths problem (and JJ knows she isn't very talented in that area. He has that much on her at least. Well, that and the fact he isn't a flaming arsehole 90% of the time.) She doesn't appear enthused about the situation she's in, which he finds quite odd considering the supposed obsession between females and oral sex. Or so Cook had said (“Bloody lick this and that but not like that. Now do it for an hour. Fucking ridiculous. But they gag for it more than cock, J.”) And Freddie who insisted that it was something that girls loved and was fairly enjoyable to give. JJ isn't sure exactly how true either statement is but Naomi's face certainly doesn't give that indication. If anything, she looks impatient and frustrated, if not plain bored by it all. She's upset maybe but he can't really be trusted to properly interpret social cues and body language. Bored, sad.... But mostly bored. There's a word he learned in Philosophy lessons that is bouncing around his mind, knocking against everything else. “Ennui”. It's a terrible word, he thinks. It bombards him with images of his mother, father, Cook, Freddie, Effy, and now Naomi. He bites hard on his lip to stop from screaming at all the visions and noises to stop, the echoes of impermeable unhappiness everywhere around him. The pain is shocking, bitter and tastes like metal.
Suddenly, like something has snapped, his hearing returns and like he's stepped into a hurricane, he hears the pulse of heavy breathing around him. Surrounding. It's too much like that night in the tent. It even smells the same.
It's too much. Too much, too much. But he needs to get Katie her jumper. Shit, shit. A tingling returns to his extremities and he flexes his fingers, testing. Yes, they move. Taking a careful step backwards he pulls the door closed to a crack. He can still hear them and when he's quite sure his legs are not going to turn to jelly, the panic sets in. He needs a jumper. Fuck. A jumper. But his mind reels with what he just witnesses and his above average problem solving skills are muted and lost. He's locked on, standing dumbly in the Fitch hall, staring at a mostly closed door.
An unexpected burst of logic graces him with a plan. There's another room with a poster of Britney Spears on it. Inside is a mess reminiscent of his own bedroom. There's a black jumper on the floor and black is said by the Hair & Beauty girls at college to match anything. He takes it.
He hands it to Katie with a shaky hand and prays she can't see what he saw on his face. He was transparent too. The fact is she doesn't seem to care. She gives him only a quick glance and snatches the offered garment. Her nose twitches (in a way he would normally find adorable if he didn't feel like he was going to explode at any minute).
“This isn't mine,” she states. “Christ, JJ. It's tiny! Are you blind or something?” Somehow her voice is small and lacks the venom the words should accompany. She sighs. He's just noticed the skateboard on it. It was a boy's jumper.
“I thought it would fit you,” he stutters, caught off-guard. Then she does look at him, a mixture of confusion and appreciation.
“Sit down, Jay.” He does. She sounds so much like Emily at that moment he forgets what happened upstairs. “Thanks.”
He realises she's flattered for some reason he can't comprehend. It's odd. Usually he can't figure out how he's gone wrong but right now he's not sure what he did correctly. She tosses the hoodie aside and pulls her bare feet up underneath her body.
“If you're still cold,” JJ states unsurely, “I produce body heat approximately 1 degree Celcius above normal average for a boy of my age, weight and height. My mother thinks it's possibly an undiagnosed thyroid condition...” He trails off, realising how he's rambling and twists his fingers together.
It's the closest he's ever come to chatting up a girl. Maybe it's because he's positive she'll accept the offer, but he's glad it's with Katie, not Emily who would likely just look at him in that pitying way of hers: Poor, hopeless Jay. Katie, by contrast, smiles surprisingly genuinely and takes his arm, looping it over her own shoulders and settles against him as she presses play on the DVD remote.
In exactly 12 minutes 32 seconds from that moment, Emily appears with Naomi on her heels. JJ feels his face flush red. The girls just stare at the couple on the couch.
“Got a fucking problem, Campbell?” Katie's voice has lost its previous softness as she chooses to ignore her sister almost entirely, focusing on the other object of her resentment. Naomi sneers and Emily rolls her eyes. It's so perfectly choreographed that JJ forgets what the last hour has entailed. Katie's hand is smoothing over his thigh soothingly. A twinge of guilt creeps up on him as he is reminded of all the times he considered Katie a horrible person. He gets it now. When she's actually on your side (or more like you're on hers) she gives off a sense of power. It's intoxicating.
The girls move towards the kitchen and JJ watches with interest, defiantly avoiding Naomi's eyes. (She would read it on his face for sure). He watches. They don't touch or smile at each other. The contrast to that day in the woods is curious. They don't even speak and JJ, even as messed up as he thinks he is, can tell that something is very wrong. This isn't normal.
(Philosophy class haunts him. “Ennui is the echo in us of time tearing itself apart.”)
--- part 2: here
Title: Variations on an Ending: Love Will Tear Us Apart, Again (1/3)
Author:
eskimo_jo
Disclaimer: The names of all characters contained here-in are the property of Skins, Company Pictures, & Channel4. No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission. Do not archive without permission.
Pairing: Naomi/Emily, implications of numerous other kinds (Effy/Cook, Effy/Naomi, Naomi/Cook, Katie/JJ, Katie/Effy, Cook/Katie, Emily/JJ...just about all the combos if you look hard enough).
Category: Angst
Rating: R.
Warnings: Excessive swearing/drug use/adult themes/character death/possibly a few triggering references (self-harm, animal testing). You name it, it's in here.
Summary: Naomi and Emily's breakup as seen through the people around them.
Notes:
1. This started with a much simpler idea in mind. I ended up going into each character a little deeper than planned, and although it may not appear that way in the beginning, this is a Naomi/Emily story. It's a little different in that it's about them, but without either of them actually having a point of view in the story. All the details surrounding their situation are left to the imagination to ultimately decide, but I just wanted to see the reaction from other characters.
2. I loathe chapters. I do. But I've split it up simply because it makes it easier for everyone else. There is a .PDF available if you prefer. Here in full-page format; here in book format, lol. No particular reason why. There are a few typos & mistakes in the PDF simply cos I'm too lazy to reupload the edits.
3. The fanmix is here.
Breakdown:
Chapter 1: Katie - Wait It Out (Jealousy)
envy: unduly suspicious or fearful of being displaced by a rival
Chapter 2: JJ - The Ice Is Getting Thinner (Ennui)
boredom: a gripping listlessness or melancholia caused by boredom; depression
Chapter 3: Effy - Lost Cause (Deception)
magic trick: designed to mislead either deliberately or inadvertently
Chapter 4: Cook - My Memory Escaped Me (Misery)
wretched: a state of ill-being due to affliction or misfortune
Chapter 5: Katie - Second Chances (Revenge)
retaliation: action taken in return for an injury or offense
Chapter 6: Gina - For all the Widows in Paradise, for the Fatherless in Ypsilanti (Deliverance)
rescue: recovery or preservation from loss or danger
“Maybe part of loving is learning to let go.” ~The Wonder Years
KATIE - Wait It Out
Jealousy
Emily had it wrong the whole time. So much for being the clever twin. All up herself thinking she had it all sorted. And she had been lucky that her strong head-butt, Katie's pre-existing head injury and the pure embarrassment of standing in front of the whole form looking like a proper mess, had been enough to stun her twin into silence with her completely off-base accusation. Emily was just so fucking wrong, sometimes.
Katie thought about it now. As if she was upset about Emily being different, as if that was a huge fucking shock. Of course they were bloody different and it was even more obvious that she wasn't Katie. It had never been about that. It wasn't that Katie had been worried that Emily wasn't going to be her double anymore, she was terrified that she was turning into Emily, terrified that they were the same.
Like hell she'd want Emily to be her. There could only be one Katie Fitch, but to be Katie Fitch there needed to be an Emily Fitch. There needed to be the back-up plan, the shadow, the comparison, the girl she could stand beside and look so much better than, relatively speaking. And even more so, there needed to be Emily, dear quiet Emily, that could be her sounding board for when she came up with a witty, or often just plain poisonous, insult and she whispered it just loud enough for other people to overhear, and remark, “Oh, Katie, you're so right!” (or “cheeky” or “rude” or “funny” or “bitchy” or “clever”. Any of the above worked. They were all compliments to her, after all.)
What didn't work is coming up with such barbs and saying them out loud to an empty space beside her. Then she just looked like bloody Pandora space-case, or something. Fucking talking to herself like some mad homeless pigeon lady who lives in the park and eats chewing gum wrappers. Or goddamn Naomi Campbell always rolling those annoying eyes at no one - like anyone actually gives a shit if her Highness doesn't think something is appropriate.
It was all her fault anyway. Fucking twat. If she hadn't come around, prancing around her sister and acting like such a blind stupid cow (which was obviously Emily's type) everything would still be fine and she wouldn't be sitting on the couch glaring at them across the room as JJ shifts obviously uncomfortably beside her and babbles about something completely fucking boring. She wouldn't be sulking, forgotten, as Emily throws her head back with a laugh that Katie can hear sparkling all the way over here. Naomi can not possibly be that brilliant.
Her eyes narrow as she watches her sister focus again on that blonde colourblind giant, her laughter settling, but the smile unwavering. She is fairly certain that she's going to be ill. And then Naomi fucking Campbell, carpet-munching Queen of everything cold and unholy, reaches forward and tucks a lock of red hair behind her sister's ear. It's so fucking lovey and sweet and Naomi's face matches her own sister's lovestruck dopey face so exactly that any one part of that scene alone is enough for Katie to, at any second, hurl all over JJ's lap. It's like no one else in the world even matters anymore.
And it had been that way since college had started. There was no use pretending it only began after the Love Ball because even before that when Emily wasn't lying about not being with Naomi, she was thinking about it, or worse doing it and for the life of her, Katie couldn't see what the big huge deal was anyway. As if that shitstain was anything special. But everyday since Naomi came to Cook's massive cock-up of a birthday party, Katie started losing her shadow. Emily's mind was elsewhere, no doubt somewhere between Naomi's legs - metaphorically, of course. Katie couldn't - wouldn't - accept otherwise, because that really must be love or something.
No. She wasn't upset about Emily being gay. So what? Less competition really. But that was easy to deflect onto. She could scream and bitch and downright beg about that and her pride would be intact. She'd rather be a bigot than a baby. (And honestly, Katie just really didn't like when Emily did things first.) So, that's what it became. And it was made particularly easy since her hatred for Naomi Campbell was pre-existing. Couldn't a girl just not like another girl for no other reason than said other girl was a complete and utter fucking twat, always has been, always will be?
But she couldn't tell Emily why, not the truth. Emily resented her enough as it was, even she could see that, but it just looked bad and Katie hated looking bad, literally and figuratively. It was more than just losing her ability to impress other people by using Emily like a pet. (A less pretty and charming pet). Katie knew she didn't have anyone, not really, other than Emily. She wasn't stupid and saw her friends for what they were most of the time. Outside the prying eyes of their classmates, they were sisters. Blood thicker than water or some bullshit. But that all changed. Emily's solitary journey began. It was for this exact reason that she hated everything that Naomi Campbell represented.
She gave Emily courage and confidence and light (even though the dumb cunt totally didn't even deserve her sister's affections) and Emily stepped away and Katie became the shadow. She was the one forgotten at a party beside the weird guy in a corner. She was the one that was asked along as an afterthought, just because they had invited Emily in front of her, and it would just be impolite not to extend it to her as well. She was the one stuck rushing to pull on her shoes as Emily whined about how Naomi was waiting and if she didn't hurry, she wasn't going to get a ride to college since Naomi had no reservations about leaving Katie behind. Where on earth the hobo-hippie cow had even gotten a car was a mystery even if it was a shitbox on wheels, but it was still better than walking alone like a total loser.
And she detested it all. Emily was just fucking rays of sunshine, except when she and the stroppy bitch were fighting, which was often enough, but even then Katie couldn't catch a fucking break because those blinding rays turned into massive thunderstorms that obliterated her either way. And that might be worse just because it was evidence --solid evidence-- that they cared about each other that much for things to matter enough to fight. Katie never cared enough to fight with any of her boyfriends. They were twats, that was accepted and she didn't really care, not really. Not the way Naomi and Emily care too much.
Everything was backwards and upside down and Katie had a hard enough time the right side around. It had taken practice and patience to build the reputation and confidence she had before. It was a fucking chore to become that normal (but fucking hot), and Emily (who couldn't be normal if it whacked her up the fanny) had no idea how damn hard it had been to use all that jealousy towards her (just because she got tits before all the other girls, and then got all the attention first too) and translate it into power. And then keeping it, all the games and things she had to do to convince everyone that she was top bitch. Some secrets even twins can't share.
And all that meant nothing now. JJ's stopped talking somewhere along the way and instead is bouncing his knee in the most annoying way possible, as she sits and glares, and chews what was once a perfectly manicured nail. The red paint chips off in tiny pieces and she moves onto the next nail. And there's Emily chatting to some fit bloke, her drink splashing over the rim of her cup as she gestures animatedly about something, likely something painfully stupid and boring, and he laughs - and not just politely like boys used to humour her when Katie was beside her. Poor sod probably doesn't even realise he's completely wasting his time since her raging lesbian sister only has eyes for the ugliest damn person in the world.
Speaking of the she-Devil, Naomi comes up beside them, eyes flashing with something indescribable and Katie knows that there is a 70% chance that there will be a thunderstorm at home tonight but being the coward that she is, Naomi stands there fiddling with her own drink cup, eying Emily in an almost insultingly distrustful way. If Katie was half of who she used to be, before being knocked down twice and being stuffed back into the dark corner like the spastic cousin at a family reunion, she would have walked up to Naomi and swiped that poisonous look off her equally poisonous face. But now she just watches and waits. Fucking JJ starts up again and nudges her to pay attention and she gives in briefly, if only to keep him around so she's not alone on the sofa. She forces a smile when he does even though she hasn't the faintest what on earth he's talking about. By the time she turns back around, Naomi's got on that shit-eating grin again and dumb, happy Emily is wrapped around her like a bloody ape-baby on its mother's back.
Fucking Naomi Campbell is smirking in that completely repugnant way of hers. It's like she fucking just knows what she's done. Like she's completely aware how much she's fucked things up for Katie, even if she's never even acknowledged her presence the entire night.
A few months ago, Emily stopped trying to get Naomi and Katie to be nice to each other. It wasn't because she and Naomi had come to some sort of peace treaty to offer or whatever gay shit the two of them thought up, but it was more like Emily just... forgot to care anymore. Like it didn't even matter. There was Naomi and Emily, and that was it. But it still didn't stop Naomi from purposely doing things, small, inconsequential ones, to bait Katie. It worked sometimes, but Emily didn't even notice how unhappy she was around Naomi, who had informed her one night at a very similar and horrible party that “Payback's a bitch, eh, Katiekins?” And in a sense Katie knew that it was revenge, that she had brought on Naomi's behaviour herself after years of taunts and generally trying her hardest to make the blonde's life miserable. But, now, Naomi could stop. She'd obviously won. She didn't stop though and anytime Katie broached the subject with Emily --if and when she wasn't at Naomi's-- Emily would shrug, mutter something about just “trying harder, yeah” and poke at her bloody mobile until 1 in the morning to her giant twat of a girlfriend.
Everything was pushed aside for cuntface Naomi. She had lost her sister. And this is what Katie had been scared of from the very beginning. This is why sometimes, even before the camping trip from Hell, she had sobbed in the shower (just so no one would know). At this point, she isn't sure if she is even a shadow anymore. She is nobody and not even her twin sister can see her.
So she turns quickly to JJ, seeing a spark of surprise (or maybe fear) in his eyes. And then she kisses him. Hard. Much harder than necessary and it's sloppy and awkward, but it's loud and when she's done, she straightens her top and glances around coyly. A smile is creeping slowly onto JJ's stunned face, but it's nothing compared to the aghast look on her sister's face across the room. Katie wipes a sleeve over her mouth daintily. It's the only thing she can do to stop herself from laughing out loud. She stands, pulls at her skirt quickly and strolls over to the counter, grabbing an empty cup, filling it halfway with vodka and winking at her sister. Naomi's eyes narrow suspiciously, darting between she, Emily and JJ like there is finally something she is not privy to. At fucking last, Katie thinks taking joy in Naomi's lack of inclusion and notices with a feeling of victory when Emily pulls her hand away from the tenuous grasp Naomi previously had.
“Aren't you going to offer me some mix, Ems?” Katie says, trilling in a way she had thought she had forgotten. Emily's hand is tightly clasped around the bottle of Irn-Bru, but the question slowly sinks in and she pushes it forward slowly, her face a mess of confusion. There's a brief moment where Katie's pouring and the other two girls are mutely staring at her. She had forgotten what it was like to have other people's gazes burning into her skin. It's warm and comfortable somehow.
Katie turns on her heel and waltzes back to JJ, tossing a cheeky look over her shoulder at her twin and her obnoxious fucking girlfriend. Emily's still staring like she's seen a ghost and Naomi is, well, it doesn't really matter because she looks like that normally anyway. It's almost nostalgically familiar. She settles into JJ's lap, offers him a sip which of course he declines, and she cuts a glance at her sister again.
Yep, she's watching with that oh so recognizable wounded puppy-dog look on her face.
Katie Fitch isn't anybody's fucking shadow.
JJ - The Ice Is Getting Thinner
Ennui
JJ likes Emily.
Emily likes JJ.
He and Emily were quite good friends, at least he assumed they were, which made the situation he was currently in just beyond the border of confounding. After all, he enjoyed shagging her, purely as friends of course, and really would not turn down the opportunity to do it again. However being in her home at this particular instant had little to do with their friendship and far more to do with her twin's rather indifferent yet somehow convincing demands.
It smells the same. It smells the same as when he and Freddie had been sat right in the same room prior to the Love Ball. It is a curious scent; like something organic (homemade stew perhaps) mixed with peppermint handsoap and some kind of hairspray. Normally hairspray tickled his nostrils in an unpleasant way, especially the way girls at school chose to cover themselves in it. But in this house it just hangs in the air unassumingly. It actually smells distinctly like Katie Fitch. (Not like Emily, no. She doesn't use beauty products as far as JJ knew.) It all reminds him of alcohol somehow. Likely due to the fact that whenever he had spent any sort of time with Katie, her breath (hot and sweet) had been laced with the same, so much so that he often could taste it on his own lips. Power of association. He wasn't sure he liked the taste. And even more so, it's like that time camping in the woods when everything had gone to pot, and Emily had mistaken Katie's sleeping bag for her own, laid it out beside him and grinned. (He could remember it clearly. It was at him but not for him, like they were sharing a secret (He hated secrets) but he was clueless what it was. She was high on mushrooms (a risky behaviour) so it was very possible she did think they were sharing a secret.) Then Naomi had crawled in, smelling almost identical to Katie. A cloud of weed aroma following her in as she giggled and tossed her own blanket onto Emily's, the alcopops she had obviously consumed leaving their sickly scent in the confined space. JJ also remembers ho she said nothing to him at the time, even though it was his tent. Her glazed eyes had focussed (as best they could under the conditions) only on Emily.
Something had turned in his stomach at that point. That was also a vivid memory. That was the reason for Emily's smile. She wasn't sharing a secret with him. It was with Naomi. And as Naomi rather rudely invited herself into his tent without thanks, he could swear a familiar memory surfaced and he sat silently as both girls lay staring at the roof of the tent (his tent), murmuring to each other and giggling occasionally.
Emily was supposed to be his friend, not Naomi's, not after that night at the Roxy. He was better. Maybe he didn't start pointless arguments in Politics class like her, but he was there. Always there. Reliable old JJ. Always there. For Cook, for Freds, for Emily. And they were only ever there for him when it was convenient. Resentment had settled in towards both Emily and Naomi for taking advantage. That was, until Emily had turned to him and asked what he thought about dinosaurs. It was a strange topic for late night conversation but he wouldn't turn down an opportunity to tell Naomi (who was saying that she didn't like nor believe in dinosaurs) something she didn't already pretend to know everything about. They had both fallen asleep while he was talking but to be fair, when he looked at the digital display on his wristwatch, he had been going on for about 21 minutes straight.
But he remembers at that point missing Cook.
That night changed everyone, including, for some unfathomable reason, himself. He had woken up during the night, after a nightmare, by a jostling sort of movement. The air in the tent was overly warm and heavy breathing next to him was laced with alcohol still. If such things as sauna pubs existed, he was certain it would smell like that. He focussed on his thoughts and tried to stop wondering which of the girls next to him was also having a nightmare.
In the morning, the girls were out of the his tent before him and rest had improved his mood exponentially. His mother always said he was a grouch when overtired. He followed them, made comment to which they responded similarly to the previous night, like they were sharing a secret again. It wasn't until he bent down to grab a Tic-Tac that his brain came to a startling conclusion. His tent, inside, it smelled like his room after he shagged Emily. Logic being JJ's strong point left no doubt what had occurred between she and Naomi last night. Instantly things were wrong, and the world was too bright and too loud, and his mind spun with implications. Distraction was necessary. Tic-Tacs. Wheels spun and absences were noted aloud. Thank God. For the rest of the day, despite the fear of losing Katie, searching everywhere, calling, Emily kept smiling and touching Naomi at every opportunity. No one else seemed to notice how odd that was. It wasn't normal.
“JJ,” Katie's voice seems piercing and unpleasant in contrast to his quiet memories, even though in reality she was sounding much less abrasive than usual. Once he meets her eyes, shifting uncomfortably beside her, she shakes her head.
“You're such a spaz. Where's your head at anyway?”
She's smiling but to him it feels like more of an accusation. (He doesn't doubt she has a soft spot for him now and not just because he's not terrible at sex anymore.) He can't tell her he was thinking about her sister because as socially inept as he's told he is, he's fairly certain that is a taboo, especially if teen dramas have imparted any such knowledge. And despite her best efforts, Katie was the polar opposite of Effy Stonem - she was practically transparent.
“Hello! JJ?” She sounds more impatient this time. He forces a timid smile.
“Sorry, Katie.” She looks less forgiving and he decides it would be a bad time to ask if she is just using him because she's obviously lonely and it's a perfect method for revenge on her twin. Quite frankly, he doesn't care as much as he expected to. He's rather lonely too. They seem to have that in common these days, being ignored by people they care about. A twinge in his chest reminds him of Freds, and then a stronger one making him think of Cook. He wishes Cook was here as well. And for some reason, he doesn't think Katie would mind particularly either. They are odd around each other now, but not disagreeable. But he's learned not to ask these things. Experience has taught him that things he thinks are good ideas are usually not in reality.
“God, you're as bad as Emily. Go upstairs and grab me a jumper. I'm cold.”
It's only when he's halfway up the staircase that he realises that she was likely not asking for a jumper at all. He mutters and mentally berates himself but it's too late now. His mind is whirling with ideas how to be suave and fix this but nothing seems right. His palms begin to sweat with the enormity of his mistake and he wills (quite futilely) his heart beat to slow. What would Freddie do? No. That won't do. He'd just shag Effy and that certainly wouldn't fix things with Katie. Cook? Also not good, better perhaps but he can't channel that lazy charm yet. He's too honest and Cook is not.
The corridor is dim, the only light coming through a crack in the door that is emblazoned with “Sexy” in cute cursive. He assumes it must be Katie's though he's never seen her bedroom. (They've shagged a few times now but never here). He pushes on the door tentatively though he's not sure why. It opens another few inches (approximately 5.08 centimetres, really).
If his mistake with Katie had been a serious faux-pas, this one was one of monumentally epic proportions that he couldn't even begin to fathom the consequences. Oh my gid--- FUCK.
They don't see him, although really the only one that could in their current position is Naomi and that fear is enough to root him frozen in place. He suddenly can't feel his arms; they aren't responding to stimulus. He wonders momentarily if shock can induce paralysis in an otherwise physically healthy individual. Emily's face is somewhere between Naomi's legs, her ass in the air, pink knickers still in tact. JJ feels a rush of relief (and a twinge of disappointment to be honest) that if he is caught, he can truthfully say he didn't really see anything. It was a geometric impossibility unless the laws of physics magically changed.
He could see Naomi's face however, screwed up like she is solving a maths problem (and JJ knows she isn't very talented in that area. He has that much on her at least. Well, that and the fact he isn't a flaming arsehole 90% of the time.) She doesn't appear enthused about the situation she's in, which he finds quite odd considering the supposed obsession between females and oral sex. Or so Cook had said (“Bloody lick this and that but not like that. Now do it for an hour. Fucking ridiculous. But they gag for it more than cock, J.”) And Freddie who insisted that it was something that girls loved and was fairly enjoyable to give. JJ isn't sure exactly how true either statement is but Naomi's face certainly doesn't give that indication. If anything, she looks impatient and frustrated, if not plain bored by it all. She's upset maybe but he can't really be trusted to properly interpret social cues and body language. Bored, sad.... But mostly bored. There's a word he learned in Philosophy lessons that is bouncing around his mind, knocking against everything else. “Ennui”. It's a terrible word, he thinks. It bombards him with images of his mother, father, Cook, Freddie, Effy, and now Naomi. He bites hard on his lip to stop from screaming at all the visions and noises to stop, the echoes of impermeable unhappiness everywhere around him. The pain is shocking, bitter and tastes like metal.
Suddenly, like something has snapped, his hearing returns and like he's stepped into a hurricane, he hears the pulse of heavy breathing around him. Surrounding. It's too much like that night in the tent. It even smells the same.
It's too much. Too much, too much. But he needs to get Katie her jumper. Shit, shit. A tingling returns to his extremities and he flexes his fingers, testing. Yes, they move. Taking a careful step backwards he pulls the door closed to a crack. He can still hear them and when he's quite sure his legs are not going to turn to jelly, the panic sets in. He needs a jumper. Fuck. A jumper. But his mind reels with what he just witnesses and his above average problem solving skills are muted and lost. He's locked on, standing dumbly in the Fitch hall, staring at a mostly closed door.
An unexpected burst of logic graces him with a plan. There's another room with a poster of Britney Spears on it. Inside is a mess reminiscent of his own bedroom. There's a black jumper on the floor and black is said by the Hair & Beauty girls at college to match anything. He takes it.
He hands it to Katie with a shaky hand and prays she can't see what he saw on his face. He was transparent too. The fact is she doesn't seem to care. She gives him only a quick glance and snatches the offered garment. Her nose twitches (in a way he would normally find adorable if he didn't feel like he was going to explode at any minute).
“This isn't mine,” she states. “Christ, JJ. It's tiny! Are you blind or something?” Somehow her voice is small and lacks the venom the words should accompany. She sighs. He's just noticed the skateboard on it. It was a boy's jumper.
“I thought it would fit you,” he stutters, caught off-guard. Then she does look at him, a mixture of confusion and appreciation.
“Sit down, Jay.” He does. She sounds so much like Emily at that moment he forgets what happened upstairs. “Thanks.”
He realises she's flattered for some reason he can't comprehend. It's odd. Usually he can't figure out how he's gone wrong but right now he's not sure what he did correctly. She tosses the hoodie aside and pulls her bare feet up underneath her body.
“If you're still cold,” JJ states unsurely, “I produce body heat approximately 1 degree Celcius above normal average for a boy of my age, weight and height. My mother thinks it's possibly an undiagnosed thyroid condition...” He trails off, realising how he's rambling and twists his fingers together.
It's the closest he's ever come to chatting up a girl. Maybe it's because he's positive she'll accept the offer, but he's glad it's with Katie, not Emily who would likely just look at him in that pitying way of hers: Poor, hopeless Jay. Katie, by contrast, smiles surprisingly genuinely and takes his arm, looping it over her own shoulders and settles against him as she presses play on the DVD remote.
In exactly 12 minutes 32 seconds from that moment, Emily appears with Naomi on her heels. JJ feels his face flush red. The girls just stare at the couple on the couch.
“Got a fucking problem, Campbell?” Katie's voice has lost its previous softness as she chooses to ignore her sister almost entirely, focusing on the other object of her resentment. Naomi sneers and Emily rolls her eyes. It's so perfectly choreographed that JJ forgets what the last hour has entailed. Katie's hand is smoothing over his thigh soothingly. A twinge of guilt creeps up on him as he is reminded of all the times he considered Katie a horrible person. He gets it now. When she's actually on your side (or more like you're on hers) she gives off a sense of power. It's intoxicating.
The girls move towards the kitchen and JJ watches with interest, defiantly avoiding Naomi's eyes. (She would read it on his face for sure). He watches. They don't touch or smile at each other. The contrast to that day in the woods is curious. They don't even speak and JJ, even as messed up as he thinks he is, can tell that something is very wrong. This isn't normal.
(Philosophy class haunts him. “Ennui is the echo in us of time tearing itself apart.”)
--- part 2: here