EDITED
"Mom are you truly ok?"
"Frances how many times do I have to tell you, I'm fine. "
Her name wasn't Frances, it was Francis but just like everything else that had to do with her ex husband Frankie's mother tended to ignore it. Her dad had chosen it for her: her name meant "a free man".
Peter Howard was obsessed with 80's movies so it would only make sense that he named her youngest daughter after a character in dirty dancing but he didn't want to name her Frances, that was too easy, to simple and he knew his daughter would be anything but those things.
So he opted with Francis.
"Francis is a boys name" was what Susan always said when she told the story wit long red nails as she rolled her eyes smacking her lipgloss filled mouth and Peter would always said that it didn't matter because Frankie was different- she was beyond genders.
Her mom was inconsistent just like she was different in her fathers eyes. Susan Mary Stewart was anything but coherent: she was loud, smart and she always left a string of lovers on her way, Susan Mary had a tall skinny frame with short length blonde hair, perfectly plucked brows, long crimson nails and a wacky done nose job.
Susan Mary loved her daughter more than anything but she wasn't quite aware of her presence, she loved mimosas and her reading club which was only an excuse for other divorced 50 year olds to gush over their young male house workers, Susan Mary was many things, but she wasn't ok and Frankie was truly worried.
"Mom just please drink your tea, your hands are trembling" said Frankie with a small voice.
We know that words are tools but right now Susan Mary had none, there was no way for her to communicate what she knew or how she felt inside. Yet she in a way was loosing sight of what she really was, what she they represented- she was mother but right now she was acting like a schoolgirl right after a breakup.
The worse thing what that she knew it wasn't the first time: she had done the same with Mark, Robert, Jesse and many others because you see, if there was one flaw of Susan Mary was that she fell too fast, too hard not knowing who will catch her and that person always tented to be Frankie.
Words can only ever be a crude manifestation of a concept and so the idiocy of semantic argument is laid bare. We are homo sapien with all of our flaws and limitations. Words can take us to new concepts, keep us grounded in faith, honesty, forgiveness, grace and whatever wholesome bullshit let's you sleep at night.
"Harry, he's gone Frances."
No shit Sherlock, Frankie wasn't the most smart person on the planet but she sure as hell wasn't an idiot and by the looks of it yeah harry was gone. "I thought there was something different about him" said Susan after a while looking at her tea like maybe it hold her salvation even her sanity maybe.
"When you get as old as me you start to realize that love, love maybe it's not what you one day thought it was but that doesn't mean you aren't going to try, that's were I'm always wrong. We fought, I said some stupid things, he said some more. He said he couldn't deal with me anymore that he was done with my bullshit. He said: "You know what your problem Susan? you think to much of people, you expect too much... You think whatever issues you have you can fix with a young face as you drink up their youth." I don't know Frances maybe he's right."
Her words fell through the air like confetti, for a moment Frankie felt unguarded. She paused, overcome with the power of what her gown wearing mother had just said. Her confetti words were just that: just paper, thin and fragile; they were inconsequentially , tossed into the wind, landing where they may because Frankie knew that at the end Susan Mary would find another boy toy or get back with Harry.
She was a bit annoyed at herself for leaving Matty standing there in a shitty alleyway to console her weeping diluted and naive mother.
Across town in George's kitchen stood a pale almost sickly looking Mathew Timothy Healy; he was facing the fridge playing with the lost strings of his sweater like if he was playing the strings of one of his guitars.
He had heard what the voice said but he couldn't place it anywhere, he couldn't place the voice to a face, for a quick second of pure horror he imagined the worst: Gabriella somehow broke in and is now listening to a conversation that affirms that in someway or the other Matty is having an affair.
In the contrary it was Ross with a controller in hand and Dorito dust on his beard- Matty felt like he could finally breath.
"You are fucking who?" Said Ross starting to understand what the conversation (more like an intervention) was about.
"Yes Matty tell him, who are you fucking?" Said George almost chopping his finger instead of the tomatoes.
"It's just a girl that I met at a party" Matty exclaimed not really wanting to talk about it with Ross but he knew that at the end he would tell all of the guys they were like brothers to him anyway.
"What party Mathew please elaborate" said George and Matty sweared at that moment he pictured himself snatching the fucking knife out of his hand and stabbing the bitch.
"Louis' birthday party" he muttered looking at the wooden floor and at his weird patterned socks that Gabby out of all people have gifted him for Christmas. "How did you even met anyone there? Weren't there all teens ther- ohhhh I seee fuck Matty, that illegal"
"Fuck Ross tell me something I don't know" Mathew said rolling his eyes suddenly wanting to leave the kitchen and run across town to see that fucking girl that was causing him so much trouble.
" Mathew I swear, how do you know she's not going to tell anyone about it? She probably already wrote to NME about it and is receiving a big fat check you know they hate us."
"George she's not like that, I don't even think she likes our music besides Frankie hates me for the most part, we haven't done anything more than kiss and she's nothing nothing at all, she's just a teen- just a girl"
"Well that girl is going to cost you more than you think, for God's sake what are you thinking, what about Gabriella, what about Louis? Isn't she the girl he was head over heels for? How will he react when he knows you have being fucking her behind his back?"
His face mottled crimson, his eyes popped, his tree trunk neck strained. His words were spat out with the ferocity and rapidity of machine gun fire. Without moving an inch with perfectly composed and uttered just three words, "I don't care."
"Of course you don't and that's always the problem with you" George exclaimed his task of chopping the tomatoes long forgotten, all he was thinking about was Matty and how at the end he would be the one fixing this mess.
xxx
Hello Abby here, I hope you are enjoying the story, I don't really know were it's going but it's going somewhere. Thanks for reading it, I also changed the cover hope you liked it if you didn't please tell me so I'll change it again.
Xox
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HEDONISTIC
Fanfiction"There is a hopelessly romantic notion that two people can meet and instantly fall in love"- Amber said inhaling her cigarette. Frankie rolled her eyes; that was utter bullshit, the thought of two people meeting and forming a bond so deep that no...
