Quietus - Book III

Chapter 9: Trust

*November 1, 2010*

Nicholas was here. He was in New York, and I didn't know the first thing to do.

I definitely didn't ask Phoebe for advice. She wouldn't want me to see him. She'd badger me incessantly if I did. That fact and his return to New York made me reconsider what I had accomplished in the last few months, or, more precisely, who I had befriended. Nicholas wouldn't accept my friendship with Phoebe, and I couldn't jeopardize our reconciliation if he found out about us. I had to be good. Phoebe had to understand that I needed him. I couldn't see him if I hung out with her. It would mean another lie, and I would never do that to him again.

I just had to tell her that I couldn't see her anymore.

I had woken up on Halloween, taking the Klonopin to continue the equilibrium it offered throughout my day. It would make telling Phoebe that I had to stop seeing her that much easier. But when I showed up at her apartment on Bedford, she was floating on cloud nine. Gun bra in hand, she smiled at me in her genuine way and told me tonight was about fun. As she held my freshly primed face and applied a shimmery pink blush and lipstick with silver eyeshadow, I begged her to keep it light. I didn't want to wear makeup at all, but she convinced me of its necessity.

"Beautiful, Ms. Taylor," she said while fluffing my hair. It had grown since September. I didn't really look like Elizabeth anymore; I looked more like me. "You'll be the most beautiful swan ever!"

In her bathroom mirror, the woman I found was radically different. I was beautiful, but not me. It was Halloween, after all. I should've been inspired by my costume that projected the purity that I yearned to have again. But was it possible to reclaim purity once tainted? Who would I find when I took the costume off later? What if she wasn't pure enough for Nicholas? I may never be pure for him again.

The moment we arrived at Fat Black Pussy Cat, Phoebe greeted the party-goers with glee, giggling and flitting about. My determination to tell her fizzled. She wasn't present at all, anyway. She pulled out her blue magic K once that night and downed it with water. Then, she went up and down the club to speak to everyone, asking if they were having a good time. Everyone except for me.

"So, did you order the balloons for Thursday?" Steven asked as the party was winding down. He said this with a terrible London accent. Considering how much of an "idol" he was for Halloween, it made sense.

"Oh! Not yet. I will tomorrow." I eyed his high platinum-blond spiky hair. "I could swear one of the balloons could fit in your hair, Billy."

"Billy? As in Billy Idol?" Steven groaned, opening his long black leather coat. "Hello!" He broke the accent. "Didn't you watch 'Buffy'?" He puffed out his chest. "I'm Spike." The accent returned, like acid in my ears.

"Oh yeah. I loved that show, but... Spike didn't speak like a pirate." I patted his shoulder.

"Rob digs it." Steven rolled his shoulders back until I let go of him.

"Rob digs everything you do. You're dating him."

"And my opinion's all that matters in the world, Katherine," Robert said, walking up behind Steven. It was fitting that he had the matching pale skin and was dressed all in black. He had lofty dark brown hair, though, and dark brown contact lenses over his gray eyes.

"Are you... Angel?" I coughed, fighting a grin. "And you two..." I pointed at them as "Angel" put his arm around "Spike" and kissed him on the cheek.

"Yep." Steven stroked Robert's forearm.

"Where are your fangs?"

"Oh, those?" Steven formed his hands into claws. "Those are for later." He grabbed Robert's behind.