Behind the Lights (Tommen legacy 1)

Chapter three

GRACIE
    "Ma?" I call out through the foyer of the Kavanagh's house. Well, it is too big to be a house, a mansion? I ponder for a minute, no a castle. Yeah, the Kavanagh's house is a fucking castle.
    "Over here, Gracie!" my Ma calls from the hallway to the right, voice extra loud and bubbly. The same voice she gets whenever she has had too many glasses of wine. I follow her calls to a beautiful kitchen, the perfect mixture of classic and modern.
    I find my Mam and Shannon giggling over glasses of wine, each leaning into their husband. Mrs Kavanagh sits on Mr Kavanagh's lap, her tiny figure, dressed in a blue zip-up and loose jeans from her day of travel and un-packing, leaning into his large rugby-built body. He gently strokes her brunette hair while looking at my father, chatting.
    My father holds my mother's waist, swaying her to the light music drifting from the vinyl playing in the background. My mother is dressed in her signature pink sweater with a pair of fitting jeans. She looks straight out of a runway magazine with a tall figure, bright blonde hair and a perfectly symmetrical face. Permanently plastered with a bright smile. My heart feels a pang of longing. I grew up with my Ma and Dad, always looking at each other with so much love that I searched for the love they had in every guy I met. But I never felt it with anyone. Anyone but him.
    I wish I could still feel that love for him seven years ago, but I can't; I haven't felt that way about anyone since that night a year and a half ago. That night, everything changed. That familiar cold sweat takes over my body, my hands tremble, and my breath gets faster. As I'm pulled back to that night, my senses slowly trickle away. I feel the heat of my dad's gaze; he quickly unwraps himself from Ma's body and takes three strides to get to me. His big bear arms wrap around my tall frame.
    "I'm here, Gracie, it's Dad, Gracie, I'm here," breathing in his familiar scent, I let my senses get back to me as I slump into him, "You okay, sweetheart?" I nod against his chest while his arms still wrap around me, "I'm gonna let go now, okay?" he asks softly. Reluctantly, I pull away, not wanting to cause a scene on the Kavanaghs' first night here.
My face heat switches to embarrassment as I look at the Kavanaghs and Ma's concerned faces. Sensing my desire not to be the centre of attention, Shannon jumps up from Johnnys' lap and plasters a smile on her face.
    "Gracie! God, I have missed you! You have gotten so tall! Me!" She wraps her arms around me and hugs me tight. Holding me a little longer than necessary.
    "Thanks, Shannon!" I say excitedly, desperate to get out of this awkward situation, "I've missed you too,"
    "Same here, Gracie, it's been too long," Johnny steps in closer to hug me, but my first reaction is to step back. I can't trust people the same way anymore. I step back into my father's chest and watch him exchange a silent look with Ma, Johnny and Shannon. I see tears forming in the well of Ma's eyes, and I hate that I am the reason they are there.
    "Gracie," my dad turns me to look at him. I think Eden and Caomhie are asleep already. He looks at Johnny for confirmation and nods, "But I think we are just going to spend the night here. There is a guest room at the top of the stairs for you. Is that okay with you? Do you want me to walk you up to it?"
    Desperate to escape the tension filling the air, I quickly tell him I can find it myself. Starting to leave, curiosity gets the better of me, realizing two essential people have been missing from the conversation.
    "Where is Corey and Rory?"
    "I believe they went out with some friends, love," Shannon says, being back at Johnny's side, "you are welcome to stay up till they get home; they shouldn't be much longer,"
    I quickly shake my head. It's already heading close to midnight, and my body is tired from my four-hour La La Land and Greatest Showman sing-along with my friends, Rosie Biggs and Cara Murray.
    "Well, see you in the morning! Love you, Gracie!" my mom says quietly but happily, still holding in her tears, "pancakes for all in the morning," she awkwardly laughs.
    "Nigh ma, love you, night guys," I say as I make my way towards the second set of stairs at the back of the house, finding my way around the maze of the house till I come across an empty bedroom near the end of the hall.
    The bedroom is bare, with a single queen-sized bed with plain grey sheets, matching pillows and a bed frame. I quickly stripped off my black maxi skirt and sweater, embroiled with pink flowers on the back, and put them on myself.
Clothes were my thing. Corey had his rugby, Ma had her pink, Da had rugby, and his cats and I had clothes. Since I was young, I remember drawing on notepads that got me thinking of women in ballroom dresses, suits, or just simple streetwear. When I was ten, my parents got me a sewing kit for my birthday, and I finally started modifying my clothes. I mainly went for black bases with a pop of colour, like hot pink shoes or flowers on my jackets.   
    Slipping into the plain bed in my black kinkers and tank top, I quickly let sleep take over my body, trying to avoid the plagues of my flashbacks from earlier.
~~~~
    What the hell?
    A loud bang against the wall outside my door wakes me from my dreamless sleep.
    Grogily, I wipe my hands over my eyes, trying to get them to adjust to the room's darkness. Another loud bang right next to my door, followed by a stream of giggles and shushes.
    What the fuck?
    I push my body out of bed and slowly approach the bedroom door. Quietly, I open the door and stick my head out.
    Oh my fucking god.
    Not even ten yards from the bedroom door is a tall brunette girl with her legs wrapped around Rory Kavanagh. Despite the dark light of the hallway, I know it's him. I could spot him out in a crowd of Ireland's fittest guys. I haven't seen him in seven years, but I have kept up with him on social media. I know he played Rugby for Blackrock College as a starting forward. He enjoys walking his dogs and is fucking six foot five. Not to mention fit as hell with a body sculpted from gods and the most bottomless Atlantic blue eyes. The worst part about seeing him here is not that his head is nuzzled in the neck of some brunette while she lets out breathy laughs. It is a fact that Rory might not even remember who I am. I have spent my whole life wanting and dreaming about knowing every single part of Rory Kavanagh , but he likely doesn't even remember me. I mean, come on, Gracie, it's been seven years. No man is that perfect.
    I watch as Rory and the brunette, who I assume to be Maeve O'Connor from school, make their way to a room at the end of the hall. They slip in and shut the door hard before I heard the faint sound of more giggles from Maeve. I resist the eye roll and bile that threatens to poke through when I realise what they will be doing the rest of the night.
    I quietly slip back to bed, hoping to fall asleep as effortlessly as earlier, but it's not my lucky day. I'm stuck staring at the dark ceiling, pondering whether or not Rory remembers me from all those years ago when I was just a shy girl looking for a friend, and he so easily gave me that position. When sleep finally takes me hours later, I'm left secretly dreaming that everything Rory did to Maeve tonight he would be doing to me one day.