novacane | griezmann

12 // ANTOINE

"Do you realize what you do to me?"

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"Antoine, I'm so worried! The wedding is in a week—and our pianist canceled. Everything is ruined." Maud whined at me from the other end of the phone, leaving me to sigh as I picked at one of the loose threads of my black jeans.

"Relax, Maud. There are many pianists in France, I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding a new one." If I was forced to proclaim love for any female I knew, it would be my sister. My mother too, of course, but that was kind of a given. I had plenty of friends who couldn't stand their sisters—but Maud was the one person I trusted the most; my best friend.

Personally, I wished the wedding wasn't happening. I hated her fiancé, he hated me. Well, maybe not. He was actually a nice guy—but I was just paranoid that he would hurt her.

"Antoine, it's wedding season. All of the good pianists are booked. Mon dieu, we'll have to play something from a stereo. How tacky is that?"

I tapped my desk and sighed. Maud was right, that wouldn't be the best idea—not for someone who was about to marry into a family as exquisite as the one she was marrying into. "Okay, okay." I mumbled, closing my eyes. "I know someone, Maud. She's good. Really good, actually." I opened my eyes as Elliott came into mind. "And she has no social life, so I'm sure she'd be willing to play at the wedding. I just have to ask her."

"Merci! Je t'aime!" Maud expressed great relief on the other end of the line. "Oh, Antoine. What would I do without you? I have to go, let me know what she says. But wait a moment...have you figured out who your date will be?"

"Date?"

"For the wedding, silly." Maud responded, with a snicker. "I won't let you do at my wedding what you did at Moire's. That was terrible! If you bring a date, she'll be sure it doesn't happen."

I smirked up at the ceiling. "Yeah, whatever. I would just do what I did at her's with my date."

"Antoine, between the reception and the dinner, you hooked up with three different women. Don't you dare—"

"I'm just joking, Maud. I would never do that at your wedding." I responded, biting my lip. It was true—I respected Maud too much to pull something like what my seventeen year-old self had pulled at my aunts third wedding. Though I must admit, I was quite ugly back then—I wondered how many women would be willing to give it up to me now that I was in my prime.

Well, who was I kidding? I've always been handsome.

Maud and I parted on the phone before I left my room and trotted down the stairs, facing Olivier in the kitchen. Truthfully, I wasn't on the best of terms with him; I held a major grudge after he forced me to bench our last match, and he acted like it'd never happened.

"Did you talk to her like I told you to?" Olivier inquired, clearly bringing up Elliott. I bit my lip.

The other night, I'd told him everything; how Elliott and I slept together practically every night and how I thought that I was slowly becoming addicted to her. Olivier tried to convince me that I liked her, but I denied it. There was just no way—I wouldn't want to date Elliott in a million, billion, trillion years. Olivier then told me to tell her how I felt. So, with the lame excuse of having her assignments—which I did—I went to Elliott's place, only to find that she was pissed at me. (I couldn't blame her).

And even though I'd tried to voice my opinions—not feelings—on the Englishwoman, I still messed everything up, like always.

"Oui," I lied. "I'm going to go see her now."