saving grace

Chapter 2: Perceptibility

A/N: *Continuing directly off of the last chapter*

You didn't want to seem like a fan girl so you tried to play it cool the best that you could. But, honestly, it was nearly impossible.

"My accent? You're asking me where my accent is from? Aren't you kind of a master at that?"

You definitely reminded her of who she was without giving too much of yourself away.

"Ah, so you know who I am."

"I mean doesn't everyone?" you responded with a slight chuckle.

Her lips turned up slightly at your reply.

"God, I hope not. It'd be great to be invisible," she says as she swirls the liquid around in her glass.

"I don't know. Sometimes being invisible isn't so hot," you say while wiping down the counter next to her space.

"Why do you say that, darling?" she questions, raising her eyebrow while looking in your direction.

"I've felt invisible for quite a while now and life has been pretty damn shitty. In invisibility you feel like no one truly understands what you're going through or they don't want to, as it'd be too much of a burden. It's like you are an object on a shelf, collecting dust or waiting to be broken."

You notice out of the corner of your eye the genuine intrigue her face holds. She rests her left elbow on the bar while leaning her chin in her hand.

"Well, darling, I'm sorry you've had to feel that way. But, let me tell you, sheer visibility feels pretty lonely too. You never know if someone authentically desires to be a part of your life, or if they're in it for the substance. You're judged constantly by the media for one thing or another. You are always second guessing everything you're doing because you're never sure that you are one hundred percent alone. For example, I guarantee that if you opened that door there would be at least five photographers waiting to get the next best shot to sell to the tabloids. I can see the headlines now, 'Newly Divorced Cate Blanchett Goes to the Bar' with either a 'Happy to be Alone' or an 'Absolutely Devastated' on the end, depending on whether I flash a smile or throw my head down."

Did she just say what you think she just said? Newly divorced? You knew she had a husband and a few kids in tow but had absolutely no idea that a divorce was impending.

You didn't really know what to say so you just went with a simple, "Fuck the tabloids."

She laughed lightly at your response and she leaned back in the stool. A comfortable silence fell as she finished the rest of her tequila.

"Another?" you asked.

"I'm okay, darling. Thank you. I should probably get out of your hair anyway."

"Trust me, you're not in my hair. It's actually refreshing to get to talk to someone. I'm stuck in my own head way too much."

"Okay, I'll stay then, but only because you insist."

You flashed a genuine smile at her and grabbed the tequila bottle. She tried to put her hands in front of the glass in an effort to stop you but you cut her off by taking a hold of one of her wrists with your empty hand.

"Please, it's on me," you advocate.

She let you proceed and you gave her an eery grin. You set out another small glass, pouring yourself one as well. You put the bottle in it's holding place and sat your bottom on the top of the bar, slowly spinning yourself to hop down on the other side. You pulled up a stool next to her, all the while her eyes glued to your figure.