"I hate funerals". I sighed down the phone as I stood in front of my mirror, fixing my knee-length black skirt. I'd paired it with a white blouse and a black blazer. All too familiar. Miserable.
"No one likes funerals, dear". My mom mocked back.
"I know but... well... y'know..." My words trailed off as I carefully wiped a tear as it fell down my cheek, trying desperately not to mess up my makeup.
"I know angel. You don't have to go, y'know? No one could blame you".
"No no... it's okay, mom. I'll be fine. It's best I go, anyway. The police recommended I do".
"The police?" My mom's voice now slightly more stern.
Shit.
"Yeah yeah... it's a long story. One for another day. I've got to go anyway, my taxi should be here any minute. I love you". A poor attempt at reassurance, I thought to myself.
"Okay angel, good luck. You'll be fine... honestly. My baby is a strong woman, just like her ma. And I love you too. Speak to you soon".
I let out another long sigh as she hung up, chucking my phone into my purse and checking myself out in the mirror one last time before heading out.
You got this, (Y/N).
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As I approached the steep steps of the Opera House, I felt a soft tap on my back. I whipped my head around at light speed almost instinctively. Paranoia now most definitely kicking in.
"Hey". Tom smiled, his hand still lay flat against my back.
"Jesus Tom, you scared the shit out of me". I jumped.
"I- sorry".
"It's okay. How are you?" I finally reciprocated his smile.
"Been better... I guess".
"Yeah... yeah, me too". I turned to look at the entrance of the Opera House as hundreds of people flocked inside. All dressed in black. All important looking. I suddenly felt very out of place. Vulnerable.
"C'mon, let's head inside. The service should be starting soon". Tom grabbed me by the hand and led me forward.
We stood towards the back of the venue. I took some time to observe those around me. I recognised a couple of GCPD officers scattered around the place. Whom I assumed to be Will's mother and father were stood towards the front. The woman wept, dabbing her tears with a silk handkerchief as multiple people approached her and shook her hand softly. I turned my head and recognise a man from the night at The Iceberg Lounge. The shorter, balding man. Dressed in another expensive looking suit. Talking to a bunch of other older men I didn't recognise. I was so caught up people watching that I barely heard Lily, Mel and Laura approach us.
"Hi guys". Lily whispered, rubbing my shoulder lightly.
"Hey girls". I replied.
"I don't feel... right. This feels... I don't know. Unsafe..." Laura added.
"Should have been a private funeral". I crossed my arms in front of my chest, feeling on edge.
"Definitely". Lily agreed.
"Tom?" An unknown voice called towards us. I turned my head in the direction of the sound to be met by tall, pale man. Early 30s. Straight, black hair parted just off center. A faint, 5 o'clock shadow just starting to appear on the lower half of his face. He looked... familiar, almost.
YOU ARE READING
What Once Was
RomantikYou move to Gotham for school and quickly take up a job in a local bar. Having stumbled into your work one evening, Gotham local, and forensic accountant, Edward Nashton becomes infatuated with you. The two of you eventually become close, but nothin...
