𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐬 || Jameson Hawthorne

I think we need to talk

༄ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊.

Grayson Davenport Hawthorne had made it clear that if he didn't want to do something— or in this case, talk about something, he wouldn't do it.

So now I have to do it.

My shoes clicked against the marble floor of Hawthorne House as I looked for Grayson. It was hard not to get sucked into the house that Tobias Hawthorne spent fifty years making— each crevice and line on the wall carved with such precision.

"Liz?" a voice none other than Graysons said.

He was in a suit—like always— and was sitting by the windowsill with a cup of tea in his hand. This was.. a strange sight.

"Oh, hey, um— Grayson," I managed.

Grayson kept his eyes focused on the window. "Jameson isn't here."

"Um— i'm not here for Jameson." I scratched the back of my neck. "I'm here for you."

Grayson peeled his eyes away from the window and fixed his gaze on me, those silver eyes looking through mine. "Why?"

"I wanted to talk." I inched closer to him, cautiously, because that was the way things had to be with Grayson. Too much and he might explode. "If that's okay?"

He contemplated my words for a moment before pushing out the chair beside him. "Okay."

Okay!

I sat down beside him, fidgeting with my fingers. What do I say? Do?

"So," I started, "I think we should talk."

Grayson didn't even blink. "You already said that." He ran his fingers through the blond locks on his head. Asshole.

"I just— I don't know what to say, okay? I'm pretty sure you know why i'm here." I searched his face for any trace of emotion, but none.

"Enlighten me."

"Emily."

Grayson flinched. And it was like I could see it— the moment he found Emily dead on the shoreline. The moment he broke down, the one time he ever did.

"There is nothing to talk about." He was gone.

"I think we both know, that's not true." I needed him to see this. Me and Grayson weren't very different. We both felt the guilt of that night— and we were the ones who took the blame.

"You should leave," Grayson said, "Now."

"Grayson—"

Grayson pushed his chair back, fixed his suit, and stood up. He didn't spare me a glance before walking away.

Look what you do. That voice in my head said.
—
༄

A part of me didn't know why I wanted to linger around Hawthorne House. Maybe it was because the memories weren't always bad, or maybe I was just looking for Jameson.

I hadn't seen him since yesterday. Yesterday, when his arms were around me and when he was crying into my shoulder.

I shouldn't have let him. I knew that. But for a split second I had let myself imagine the what if of Jameson Hawthorne— and what we could've been.

I pushed the thoughts down when I crossed Avery's room. The door was open, and she was trying on a sparkly navy blue dress.

She caught my gaze in the doorframe and smiled. "You can come in."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"No, no." Avery waved her hand, "I actually need help. I feel like i'm dying over here." She pulled on the hem of her dress.

"Alright." I walked into her room and made a beeline toward the mirror she was standing in front of. "You look really nice."

"Thank you," Avery said. "But it's the hair. I have no idea what to do with it." She ruffled her hair in defeat and fell in the chair beside her mirror.

"Now that I can't help with." Emily. Emily. Emily. "I've never been the hair stylist of the family or anything." It was always her.

Avery must of noticed the way my voice fluctuated because she looked sad. Too sad. "Can I ask you something?"

No. "Anything."

"I feel like every time I try and talk about Emily I get shut down. I know it's a sensitive topic, but she's the center of everything around here."

"She had that effect on people," I said, and I could almost see Emily in front of me. Picture what she would be wearing and the way her eyes would be gleaming. "Emily loved attention. It's when she didn't get it that things became a problem."

Avery sat up straight, now fully listening to what I was saying. She looked hungry— like she needed answers, and I almost felt sorry for her. The mystery girl who Tobias picked for an unknown reason.

"What do you mean?" Avery asked.

"It's complicated." Everything with Emily was complicated, but I left that out. "But let me put it like this." I looked Avery in the eyes. "She would hate you, hate what you have, who you are, and the way they look at you."

Avery gulped. "Nothing is happening with me and Jameson." It's like she could read my mind. Fuck.

"Yet," I said. "That doesn't mean it won't. Or that it shouldn't." Maybe I couldn't be the person Jameson needed. It physically hurt my heart, but maybe Avery was that girl. His girl.

"No." Avery shook her head. "There's something about him I can't figure out. A small piece of him is cut off to the world."

"Yeah." I knew that all too well.

"But not for you," Avery said, her voice a mere whisper. Her words caught me off guard, and I was left speechless in front of the girl who owned this whole mansion.

"I—"

"Avery, we need to hurry." Alisa Ortega entered the room in haste, turning Avery's chair around with her in it. "Get somebody to do your hair. We have to be there in 45 minutes."

"Wait, where are you even going?" I asked.

"The Hawthorne Foundation party," Avery said. "I'm surprised you're not going?" She looked at me with raised eyebrows through the small mirror on her desk.

SHIT.

"I am supposed to go to that." I glanced at Alisa who looked like she couldn't care less about anything but getting Avery there on time and practicing PR. "Um, I have to go."

"Uh— see you there!" Avery called, but I was already out the door.

Don't screw something up for once, Liz.
—
༄

a/n:

next chapter is straight up pain.. again. Also i just finished chapter 2 for act 3 of my Grayson story.. but they will definitely be posted at different times because i'm pre writing for this story to stay ahead bc i didn't for that story and it's taking longer to get out 😭😭 thank you all for 11.5K READS?!?!? i love you all :)