Jiley Oneshots

Apologies (pt. 1)

Season 3

Riley's POV:

I ring the doorbell of the front door, standing there uneasily with my hand gripping the handle of my dance bag and the other in the pocket of my dark grey hoody. The door shortly opens for me to see Lola's small body behind the frame of the stained glass before she smiles when she sees me. Despite how uneasy I was feeling, I manage to smile back at her.

"Mommy! Riley's here!" she exclaims, giggling since she clearly had a hyperactive sugar rush, which is purely evident when she and her eight-year-old sister, Georgia, start laughing together, playing a game of tag. They shortly run outside to play with their dog, Pippa, when I step inside, and then I close the front door behind me to find Deborah putting away the groceries in the kitchen.

"Hey, sweetie," she says when she sees me. I smile softly. "James is upstairs in his room if you're looking for him. He's been a bit moody all day, though. I'm not too-sure why." I nod. He didn't show up at the studios today either, but I knew why. I also knew I was the predominate reason for it. I begin to make my way towards the stairs, before she says, "Oh, and Matthew's doing a barbeque outside later, around about four. You're welcome to stay if you'd like." I smile and nod.

"That sounds good. Thank you," I tell her.

"No problem, lovely." Deborah's always been welcoming like that, treating me like family. She wasn't too-fond of mine and James' relationship at first, but she's gotten used to it as time went on and I think she sees me almost as a daughter now.

I walk up the stairs and past Piper's room. I think one of her friend's were in there as well as I heard them talking about a boy in her class that she presumably has a crush on. Not only that, but Olivia Rodrigo's music was playing on a soft volume. Somehow the speakers Piper was using made her voice sound even better than I originally thought, and I didn't think that was possible.

However, the moment I walk past her room, the smile that had been plastered across my face had slowly faded by the time I reached James's room. I breathe out a little and then turn the handle and open the door, without thinking to knock since I never usually do.

"James," I say, but don't continue when I see him standing by his wardrobe and throwing clothes all over the place. "What the . . . ?" I drift off. His room was a mess. Much messier than usual. Hoodies and boxer shorts and tank tops and hats were thrown all over the place, his shoes were scattered around the room. Printed out pictures of him when he was younger and photos of me and him together or of him with his family had been destroyed, some with creases in them and some ripped apart.

I put my bag down on his black desk chair and lean down to grab a ripped up photo of the two of us together. It was only slightly ripped. Half the damage was still to be done to it. I keep hold of it in the middle of my palm and continued to watch him as he hadn't even acknowledged my presence. He seemed stressed out by something and he runs his hands through his hair as he turns around. Then his eyes meet mine.

"Riley," he says, breathing out. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you," I begin to say but he shakes his head and walks over to me then holds me firmly by the shoulders.

"You can't be in here," he tells me.

"But I-"

"No, Ri."

"James, what's going on?" I ask him, my eyes not being able to help scouting around the room. "I'm your girlfriend," I state. "Whatever it is, you can tell me." I place my hand lightly on his arm but he shakes his head again and pushes me off of him.

"You won't understand, okay." I think about it for a moment, looking down at the photo I held in my hand. The wall above his bed had a single dent in it but he had clearly tried to cover it up with a poster. It didn't work. The angle he had put it at was slanted and showed off the dent menacingly. I also notice how he had a laundry bag resting by the door, as if to stop people from coming in. But then I also realise that James never really does laundry.