Bad Taste (Part II) // Colby Brock

237 - Rebecca

The wake was, for all intents and purposes, easy to get through. From the fewer people we'd allowed there being respectful to the comfort of having my sister and father next to me, everything was perfect.

The burial, on the other hand, was terribly difficult. Angela was crying her eyes out, I was close to hyperventilating, Dad had shut down, and Colby—who stood far away to give us space—was visibly troubled by my distress and not being able to do anything about it.

Angela ended up in the back room of the bar we'd picked for Mom's "celebration of life," among all the employees who watched awkwardly over her unsure of whether their condolences would be welcomed or not. I, myself, had trouble finding out what it was that Angela wanted from other people, but I focused my efforts on Colby instead. He brought me enough comfort to get me through the next ten minutes.

When Angela had fixed her makeup and hair, and looked presentable enough to go out into the crowds of less-caring people to celebrate Mom's flawed but short-lived life, I told her I was going to hang back for a moment. She didn't say it was okay, she just left.

And I looked up at Colby with a troubled expression on my face. "I don't like this."

"What don't you like?" He moved to comfort me, like it was natural for him by this point—which I hoped it was.

"Just..." I allowed myself to be curled up in Colby's chest, "having so many people around. They don't give a shit about my mother, they never did. Yet they're here to "give condolences" and share their fond memories of her. What fucking fond memories?"

Colby sighed, "It's just the nature of these things, baby. Before the thing with Julian happened, if I died, Elliott might have showed up to give his condolences. And we both know how he really felt about me in the end. You've gotta get through this day."

"It feels wrong," I muttered, shaking my head.

"It doesn't have to feel right," he pulled me back to an arm's length so he could stare into my eyes, "it just has to happen and be forgotten." I bit my lip disobediently, almost crossing my arms but deciding that'd be a little too childish. Instead, my eyes slid to the wall beside me where the bar's plans for the next two weeks hung. "Baby, if you really don't want to stick around, you can see the important people and go."

I looked back at Colby. "I've already seen the important people."

"Not all of them." I frowned, but Colby didn't explain himself. "Come on, ten minutes and if you don't want to stay, we'll go. Just me and you if you want."

Sighing, I nodded, and we walked out of the back room into the rest of the bar. I immediately spotted Angela, the tall, blonde woman she was, stood beside Brett, Maggie and Lewis, then I caught sight of Jake and Tara wearing almost what they'd wear in any other situation. The others from my studio were scattered amongst the crowd with various "friends of the family."

It made me mad to see some of the disrespectful fashion legends here, even if it was something I should have expected since they wanted to keep up appearances that they actually gave a damn. The only thing that shocked me was that they weren't already hounding Angela, sucking up to her and making themselves early investors in the company Mom created that was now entirely hers.

Colby sensed my annoyance and pulled me through the room toward a specific table in the bar, one hidden by the large bodies of fat business men who didn't do anything but still got paid big bucks. I didn't know why we were heading to the table until we pushed through a particularly disgusting man—with a disgusting personality and who actually tried to reach for my ass when we were at the celebration of my dead mother's life. I discovered that, at this table, there were four people I had only seen in passing all together before, though two I'd had full conversations with.