The Glass Ballerina Who Danced On Knives

Stop ruining my life!

I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush                                                                                                           I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch/Everybody wants you/Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you/Walk past, quick brush don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush/I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush/Everybody wants you

gold rush, Taylor Swift

The light from the bathroom floods the room and Cam is standing in front of me, phone pressed into his chest, back lit.

"Trinity...", He shifts a little and his body language screams guilty. "You shouldn't have to hear that."

"Why?"

"I don't want you to worry about my problems. I don't want you to see me as a problem." He laughs awkwardly as runs his fingers through his tousled hair, shadows from the bathroom light settling over his face, making him look around ten years older than he is.

"Camden," I step dangerously close, making sure to hold my silk dressing gown around my bust tightly, because even though he's seen me in my pyjamas and lacy camisoles and underwear hundreds of times, I feel scared to be comfortable around him after hearing Ivie's complaints. For all I know, she could be hiding in my closet at this very moment. "You're not a problem. We're best friends. That's what we do. We help each other. And I'm here for you."

I lift up my hand to cup his face, but I pull back. The movement seems oddly sensual, and again, what if Ivie's in my closet?

But he stops my hand.

We stand in the faint light of the space, hands pressed to each others, neither one saying anything. The time is cool and solid, stable and supportive. It's safe.

All too soon, the spell is broken when Cam's phone buzzes, still in his hand.

Cam's a good guy. I know he is. I know he'd never, ever leave his girlfriend for me. I know he's deathly loyal, a little pretentious, and really likes jaffa cakes.

I know I'm his best friend, and best friend only.

"You should... you should get that." I take three steps back for good measure.

He doesn't reply. At least, not to me. He looks down at his phone, rolls his eyes and types out a reply before sliding it back into his pocket.

Camden sleeps in my bed tonight. We stay strictly on opposite sides and don't talk or laugh like we usually do. I feel a heavy weight on my chest, like me and Camden have too much hanging in the balance. If I was a soda bottle, I'd be shaken and tossed around, ready to explode at a second's notice.

When I wake up, there's already a text from Avery asking me to call her.

With Camden still asleep, I tiptoe to my closet, double checking behind the floral arrangements to make sure Ivie isn't actually hiding here, stealing one of my limited edition Valentino pumps.

After assuring myself that this is indeed an Ivie free space, I call Avery.

"Oh, hey Trinity." Avery sounds distracted.

"Why did you want to talk to me?" I ask. No point in wasting time.

"I'm heading up to True North, and I just wanted to invite you to come along.

She's inviting me? Why? What's going on? "Why did you suddenly decide to head up north?"

I can practically hear her shrug. "Just a little bit of investigation. I'll explain on the plane." She balances her words. "So much has happened recently, I need to fill you in on it."