Don't Stand By Me (COMPLETE)

INTERLUDE TWO

A few weeks ago..

Violet sighed, staring at herself and roughly smoothing down her blazer. The singular distinct wrinkle caused by her rushed ironing that morning glared at her, reminding her of her imperfections. A Hastings is always properly put together, Violet. As if she could ever forget it. She used to feel like a Hastings, perfect, like a doll in the box. She used to feel like someone her father could be proud of. Until she had left the nest, so to speak, spread her wings and went off to college, subsequently meeting her father's two least favourite people in the universe.

Kiara and Elvis had been the catalyst for her complete change in personality, and she couldn't have been more grateful for it. But there were some days, like today, where she felt a tiny smidge of resentment. Overwhelming regret in choosing to stay in their apartment, rather than her decked out penthouse like her father had wanted. That decision had led to her first ever argument with her father. He practically roared down the phone, yelling obscenities she had never even heard before. He was disgusted that she was throwing his gift away, choosing to slum it with 'suburbs trash'. They weren't even from the suburbs. She knew it was silly to have those thoughts; Elvis and Kiara had saved her from a life of monotony and people pleasing where she never truly would have been happy. And while she was happier than she had ever truly been, there was something about her meetings with her father that threw her back into her mindset of three years ago.

Father says jump and Violet is already in the air asking if she's high enough, chastising herself for not getting a running start.

Violet sighed at her reflection, noting the bags under her eyes poking through the thick layer of concealer she had smeared on hours earlier. She felt guilty for lying to Elvis and Kiara about going to a 'girlie brunch', but she didn't feel like unpacking this with anyone. She hated her monthly 'sit-downs' with her parents; they felt more like business meetings rather than family time. Yet they insisted on it and never let her miss one, only using it against her if she ever did. Sophomore year she had come down with a rough case of chickenpox that had taken their apartment building by storm, she didn't hear the end of it for months, being endlessly reminded of the time her father had beaten Charles Price in court with a fever of 108.

Violet gave herself a weak smile in a mirror and a half-hearted thumbs up before steeling her resolve and leaving the elegant bathroom and returning to the hostess' stand.

"Miss Hastings." The woman smiled primly, "Please, follow me."

She drifted along behind the woman, making note of the fact that her blazer didn't have a single wrinkle and trying to suppress her disdain. She spotted her parents before they took note of her, noses deep in their menus as they sat beside each other, leaving one chair free across from them, set up like an interview, which in a way it was.

"Mother, father." She said tentatively, sliding into the vacant seat, "Lovely to see you both."

"Darling." Her mother cooed, glancing up and frowning, "Did you iron that?"

"Yes mother."

"Hm."

"It's a big month for us, dear." Her father smiled, "Your mother and I are preparing for our trip to Tokyo to meet with investors."

"Investors?" I frowned, "What for?"

"We're looking to expand, open up offices in Europe."

"Is there really a need for that?"

Her father fixed her with a sharp look, "I think I would know what my company needs. Besides, we'll need an office for you to run, won't we?"

"W-what?"

"I was thinking London...perhaps Italy. I know a few people over there that could lay the groundwork-"

"You want to send me away to Europe?"

Her mother flinched, "Don't cause a scene dear."

Violet glanced around to see no one paying them any mind.

"You'll love Europe. It's all shopping. That's all you do, anyway." Her father rolled his eyes, placing his menu down and flagging over a waiter.

Violet kept quiet as her parents ordered their food and her own, trying to quash the feeling of rage welling up within her. It was as though her parents had stopped paying attention to her when she was sixteen and just pretended that was how she was forever. It was infuriating.

"What if I want to stay here? In New York?"

Her father barked out a laugh, "What? Because of your friends? Be serious, Violet. You have a duty."

"Yeah. The family business. I get it. But what if I don't want-"

"Violet, your father has spent your entire life giving you everything you could ever dream of." Her mother laid her perfectly manicured hands on the table, "And you constantly throw it back in our faces. How about just once, you try and make us proud? Maybe stop running away from your problems and face them head on, like a grown up."

Make us proud. Just once.

She resisted the urge to scream at them in the middle of the hoity toity establishment. She was a grown up.

She frowned, "Wait, when are you going to Tokyo?"

"Next week." Her mother smiled, enjoying the change of subject.

"What about my graduation?"

"What about it, dear?" Her father checked his watch, glancing around at the staff, "It's just a ceremony. It doesn't matter."

She sighed but chose not to comment. She wasn't going to move to Europe, and she wasn't going to breathe a word about this to anyone. She was a grown up and she could handle this situation on her own.

She stayed silent as the waiter approached, putting a salad down in front of her. Their words echoed in her mind as she speared a leaf into her mouth, chewing it and barely acknowledging the flavours.

Violet fucking hated salad.