Life, Love, & Lies

Twenty-Four

"Miss Abernathy, where would you like me to drop you off?" the driver asks after a few minutes of sitting in the car, her mind completely overwhelmed with the last few hours and everything that happened.

"Um, Park Avenue and 81st street." She doesn't think twice as she says it, laying her head back against the seat as the car pulls away from the curb, watching through the tinted window as the sky to the east starts to lighten. What a night.

"I've been instructed by Mr. Russo to drive back through the city in a route that will make sure we lose anyone who might try following us, it will be an extra few minutes of driving, if you fall asleep I will wake you."

"Thanks." She mumbles, but sleep doesn't come, her body is definitely exhausted but her mind is full and running a mile a minute. The sun is nearly up as they arrive outside the building she had avoided the last time the band had been in the city, her eyes scanning up the 83 floors as she steps from the car. Slipping her wallet from her bag she locates the keycard she hadn't used in five and a half years nearly, holding her breath as she scans into the building, waiting for the key to not work, but it does. The door unlocks and she is greeted by the same happy doorman who'd worked the door for as long as she could remember.

"Long time no see, welcome home Ms. Abernathy." He says quietly, no one else around to hear him, he adds a small wink and she can't help but smile back at him.

"Shhh." She puts her finger over her lips, his response coming in the form of pretending to zip his own lips shut.

Her shoulders relax as she enters the elevator, pressing the 'PH' button, slipping her keycard into the slot as it asks for verification to enter the Penthouse. When she feels the machine begin to lift she lets out a long sigh, closing her eyes to focus herself as she rides the one minute long ride to the 82nd floor, the top of the shaft and the 'front door' to her childhood home.

She opens her eyes as the elevator pings, stepping cautiously out as the door opens fully, surprised as she takes in what she sees. Surprised because it all looks the same, the large painting still hanging across from the elevator, dust settled on the top of the credenza below it. Turning to her left she ventures slowly past the small hallway into the living room space, her throat tightening as she sees the fake christmas tree standing twelve feet tall, still in the place it had been since it had been set up on December 1st of her senior year of high school, gifts still sitting below it. Choking softly on a sob as she walks through the space to the dining room, holiday garlands and a smaller live tree dried, their needles fallen to the floor in the time since her mother hastily removed her from the home. Wandering through the kitchen space and her dad's den on the first floor she is somehow shocked again and again as everything is in the same place they had left it, including the pictures her mom had thrown across the den after the arrest.

After circling around the main floor for a half an hour or so she grips the railing of the staircase, climbing the twenty-two stairs to the landing above, glancing left for a moment towards the master suite and guest bedroom doors before turning right, pushing open her own bedroom door. Standing in the doorway she flips the lightswitch, doing a visual assessment of the space before entering. Her pink and white bedding is messy, pulled back from where she'd been rushed out of it, nightstand still holding a water bottle and her gray lamp. Photos strung above her headboard making her smile, photos of her with Matt, of Matt, Milo, and her, of her dance team, her and Anja, the most important parts of teenage Felicity's life. Her dance bag is sitting in the large comfortable chair across the room, open with her pointe shoes half falling out. A book half read on the edge of the desk beside the chair.

A full sob bubbles from her chest as she takes in the space, memories of years spent hidden away in this safe space flooding her mind. Taking a hesitant step into the room she runs her hand along the wall taking in the subtle rose gold floral wallpaper she'd grown up with. Looking into the closet and smiling sadly as she sees her high school uniforms hanging next to fancy dresses and dance costumes, shelves filled with sweats and jackets, rows of shoes in every color and style along the bottom of the space. Wandering to the chair she takes her old pointe shoes out of the bag, along with a pair of tights, and tape sitting herself on the edge of her bed and sliding the tights over her leggings before preparing her feet and slowly bending them into the shoes, lacing the ribbons around her ankles. Sitting for a moment just to focus on the pull and  fit of the shoes around her feet again. Gingerly standing she settles herself naturally into first position, moving slowly through muscle memory steps as she dances flat footed for a few minutes before pushing up onto her toes, moving unsteadily on her toes for a couple moments before falling back to her heels, hissing at the pain that shoots through her feet. Dropping back on the bed she removes the shoes, rubbing the joint above her big toe, smiling sadly as she takes in the stubby square shape her toes had taken on after so many years dancing on pointe shoes.

After looking through her things for a while longer, studying each of the photos hanging over the bed, she exits the room, closing the door behind her. Walking down the hall to her parents bedroom she rests her hand on the doorknob, wanting to count the number of earrings in the large case on the vanity. But for some reason her brain can't get her hand to turn the knob, commanding her hand consciously to twist the knob multiple times before giving up. Letting her head fall against the door as her shoulders shake, tears spilling from her eyes, everything seems to come crashing down on her. The lack of sleep for more than thirty-six hours now, the concert, talking to her dad, witnessing his death, being here again... So much weight crashing down around her and onto her shoulders.

After letting herself fall apart for a few minutes she lifts herself back up, wiping the tears from her face before turning back towards the stairs, giving herself the grace of skipping this part of the plan for today. Leaving the penthouse behind all together she descends the building on the elevator, stopping only to ask the doorman to put in instructions for the penthouse to be cleaned and all Christmas decor and gifts to be removed, knowing that when she does return she will be better off without seeing those things again.

Exiting the building she slips easily into the crowds of those waking up and starting their days. Choosing to wander a couple blocks before hailing a cab, giving the driver directions to the hotel the band is staying at until the next morning when they drive to Philadelphia for the next show. Her mind set on a hot shower, some room service, and falling asleep for at least twelve hours.

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Emotions are all over the place for LoLo now. Does anything come from her going to see her dad? If yes, what do you think it will be?

Thanks for being patient with me! I'm hopeful life is settling a little bit so I'll have more time to write again. ❤️

Vote and comment!

I love you guys!!!

~M =)