Little Bird // Thomas Sangster

| As Tears Go By |

I don't even need to say it, but I will. My mum was very surprised when she came home to find that I was peacefully sitting with my arch-nemesis on the couch -- nearly every pillow we own separating us, but sitting together nonetheless -- and casually watching a movie. She didn't comment because she didn't want to ruin it, but I could see it in her eyes when she walked in.

Ava was beaming proudly at the sight of us when she and Blaire returned only moments after my mother, my dad -- being the huge Beatlemaniac he is -- excitedly yelled when he saw what we were watching and joined us, and Thomas's parents had reactions similar to that of my mum's. I didn't really care about any of it until my brothers ruined it. They came clumsily stumbling in later in the evening as though they were drunk (which they weren't, because they knew my mum would kill them if they even came near an alcoholic drink) and broke into fits of laughter when they saw us, then began cat-calling us. That was how I reached my breaking point and went upstairs to the solitude of my bedroom, where I stayed for the rest of the night.

I sit now on my bed, still watching The Walking Dead and scrolling through lists of apartments online. Tomorrow will be the third day Thomas has been here. Surprisingly, the time has gone by pretty fast, and if he's only going to be here a week, this dreaded ordeal is almost over. Distractedly, I glance up at the damaged record player on my desk and the shattered record on the floor, putting my laptop off to the side briefly to clean up the mess. As I pick up the shards and put them in the trash bin in the corner, I wonder if he regrets this. He seemed to earlier. I mean, this was one of my favorite vinyls, and he destroyed it.

Absentmindedly, my hand stops in its place on the side of the trash bin. I guess my body realized it before I did, but there's another presence in the room with me. It's as though my reflexes were trying to warn me of the upcoming lecture from Ava on the topic of myself and her brother.

Before she can speak, I ask, "Blaire's not here, too, is she?"

"No." Ava shifted so that she was leaning against the door. "She went to bed."

"This early?"

"It's past midnight..."

"I know. This early?"

She breathed out a chuckle. "Yes, this early."

I turned around and sat on the floor beside the trash bin so I was facing her. "I have a hard time believing she's sleeping," I said, feeling the ghost of a smile on my face, "but I can see she's not here. So, anyway, then, what can I help you with?"

Ava smiled a little. "I just wanted to say thank you."

"Thank you?"

"Thank you."

Incredulously, I repeated, "Thank you?"

And once again, she responded, "Thank you."

"...Why?"

"For being civil with my brother. I knew you had it in you."

"Oh, please, I'm just surprised he was civil to me."

"I know, I'm a bit surprised he kept his cool myself." Her smile grew. "But I really appreciate you making an effort. Maybe you could continue that?"

"Maybe."

"Alright," Ava said. "I'll hold you to your word, then. Goodnight, Em."

"Goodni-- wait, Ava, I said maybe, that doesn't necessarily mean yes--!" I cut myself off with a sigh, noticing she was no longer there. "And she's gone."

After a moment of watching the doorway just in case she decided to come back and acknowledge the fact that I, indeed, had said 'maybe' and not 'yes' (which she didn't), I finished cleaning up what left I had to do and then resumed online browsing for a place to live. I don't know how much time passed after that, but I can tell you it had at least been twenty minutes before I heard his voice in the next room. And it sounded like he was angry.

I immediately stopped what I was doing, similar to how I had when Ava had come in, trying my best to listen in, as rude as it might've been.

"--all I'm saying is it's not my fault I didn't get the part, Rose," Thomas was saying frustratedly. "They just found someone that was a better fit." After a pause, his voice raised slightly as he said, "Okay, it's great you're going to be in the movie, but don't go yelling at me because I'm not going to be! You said yourself you're a good actress. You can make it work without me--"

His voice got a little more muffled there, and I assumed he'd been walking away from where I was sitting. So, like any other abnormally nosy person would, I rushed over to the wall and held my ear to it, trying once more to hear what was going on. It was clear that he was talking on the phone, but who was this Rose?

"You've got to be kidding. You're not seriously upset, are you? ...This was a big deal to me, but it's not the end of the world now that it didn't work out! ...Don't you call me devoid of sentiment! I know this meant a lot to you, and don't you think getting to be in a movie with my girlfriend for the first time would matter to me, too? ...Well, it did! ...This is not worth arguing over. They found someone that was better fit for the role than I was, so that person deserved to get it. We can just find a different movie to be in! ...Well, fine, if you're going to be that way about it. ...Don't hang up, Rose!"

"I'll never hang up, Jack," I mocked absentmindedly under my breath.

"You hang up and you can just forget this whole movie thing. Actually, you can forget about us. You don't have the right to treat me like-- hello? Rose?"

I could practically hear his heart sink. She did not just hang up!

The sound of a phone disconnecting confirmed my suspicions. Oh, my gosh. She hung up. And he did, too.

This is a practical soap opera, I'm telling you.

Just a day ago, I would've laughed at my enemy's misery, but today, for some reason, I'm couldn't even bring myself merely to smile. I felt terrible that the thought of laughing even crossed my mind.

I'd gone through a few breakups myself, but none had been as abrupt as that. It sucked just to listen to it.

And it was then I knew I had no choice but to continue being civil to him. I just felt so bad for him, something I never thought I'd even get close to feeling.

A song popped into my mind in that instant, one called "As Tears Go By," the first hit by the lovely Marianne Faithfull. Keith Richards and Mick Jagger had written it for her and the Rolling Stones later released their own version of it, but I preferred Marianne's version. It was about everyone else being all cheerful and happy, but you just sat and watched, never smiling yourself, and I just thought she sounded wonderful on it.

I felt it was appropriate for the situation, so I dug out the old record I had of hers and played the track quietly, sitting there on the floor as I was overcome by the wave of pity for my now former enemy, the one time I found myself unable to swim away from it.

****

you: update

me: *types very slowly, then takes like a month-long break from Wattpad, then types at a snail's pace once more, then takes another break*

you: -.-

me: sorry

lol seriously though I'm sorry for being gone so long. There's just been a whole lot of family drama going on with me lately and I've had many other things on my mind. I'm seriously thinking of just taking my stories down so I don't have to make you wait like half a year again for another chapter. I know how excruciating it can be to have to wait for a story to update.