Clementine had become a wild child. Born in America but raised abroad, she now had little regard for the expectations of high society. But her reckless ways eventually catch up with her when she is kicked out of college in New York City and forced t...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
73f
She looked at the rectangular, vintage Chanel watch adorning her wrist.
Give or take, they only had about a half an hour until the party would wrap up.
She looked once again resolutely at the back of Zico's form, swaying a few paces ahead of her, and with a renewed sense of determination - knowing how little she'd get of him, how little time there was - she went forward to find him. Once again smoothly entering his area of vision, him not acting surprised. But not exactly jumping at the chance to see her again.
It was a cordial, unspoken agreement. She did't know what to say though, and other than for a few back and forth with him and his friends, she wondered how it would look if she left her friends like that at the end of the night. She hated to think what he might think, but she did. Or worse, what if he found her annoying, or needy or....
"We're going to get some food after, maybe go to Pallazio after." Clementine leaned in to his ear, touching his shoulder.
Palazzio - a place she learned to like, knowing it would be right up his alley. Dimly lit, small. Good cocktails, good music.
"What are you doing after?" She asked him after something he said.
He took only a moment longer to respond, as if weighing his words carefully in front of her: "I'm going home."
Home? That was so unlike him. Him, whose night didn't end until at least a few escapades.
But Clementine didn't think to get too caught up on that.
She stood beside him, basking in his light, looking over at him every once and then. But she also couldn't help and feel the magnetic push. If before there was a pull, this time the magnets switched around and she was being pushed farther away the closer she tried to get.
She didn't want to feel hopeless, but a small part of her whispered to her that it was time to retreat.
She went back to her friends - Ernesto and Laticia - who were already debating where they would meet up with their other friends to get food.
Clementine took another look at her watch. It was a bit after 9 now, but the music kept playing.
I'm going home. His words echoed in her mind. She thought about how they didn't bring up the accident, or what happened since. She had a desperate urge to ask him how have you been? How did you get through it this whole time alone? Whatever happened to you? But she did't. Because she knew that some things you just don't talk about. They only dancedaround it. Dancing for the answers. The answers she never got though.
Because all of a sudden, the last song was played, and people started dissipating much faster than she expected. Taken aback, and a little overwhelmed by the ensuing chaos of the room, she was lost in the dizzying haze of the sudden transition. Ernesto took her by the elbow and they went to the side of the room, picking up the things they hid away behind the velvet couch, not opting to pay for coat check.
It was only when they were flying out of the room, that she caught a last glimpse of him. His back, waiting in line for the coatcheck. And as she was being bullied out of the room without a chance to even say goodbye, she turned around catching a last glimpse of the side of his face, pulling out his phone. Brow furrowing in the white light.
