The Segment (Completed)

34. Wingless Fireflies

(Unedited. Play song above as you read)

Farrah couldn't differentiate the between the pounding of her heart and the pounding of her feet on the floor as she raced across the suite into Richard's room. It was dark, but she could still make out his figure sitting on the bed, facing the glass sliding door that led to the balcony. It was then she noticed the large crack on the door. Her eyes widened, and she frantically searched for the light switches.

The pounding in her heart intensified in the quiet surrounding her, as she watched Richard's unmoving body as light flooded into the room. He sat hunched, with his elbows on his knees, facing the floor, as his fingers gripped tightly on his dark orange hair. She wanted to say something, but she was anxious, she didn't know how he would react to her. But she knew she had to try.

She walked towards him and the sound of glass crunching under her boots startled her. Carefully watching her step, she saw shards of crystal littering the floor. The gleamed and twinkled on the floor, like wingless fireflies. Fortifying herself, Farrah turned around and headed to the Butler's station. Quickly finding a dustpan, she headed back into Richard' room and slowly started sweeping bit of crystal of the floor. As she did this, Richard stood statue still on the bed, but his lifeless eyes followed her every movement.

Silently, she disposed of the broken shards of crystal and returned the dustpan from where it belonged. Entering the room again, she walked up to Richard and faced him standing on her knees. She lifted her hand to touch him when his voice cut through the silence.

"Are you done now?" Richard's voice cold, stilling Farrah's movements. "Have you fixed up the room? And now you're going to fix me up?"

The coldness of his voice and the harshness of his words created an ache in Farrah's chest. "Why are you saying that, Richard?" she whispered.

"Because I saw that look on your face. The realisation you had in the club; that I am nothing but broken," he said stoically.

"I...I...no...I...," Farrah swallowed, I was jealous, I was hurt, I felt betrayed. But this was not the right time to talk about these things. She cleared her throat, and tried again softly; "Richard, tell me what's wrong. Please."

"What is there to tell you Farrah, I was feeling unhappy, so I threw the nearest thing that I could find. Exactly the type of behavior you would expect out of a shallow, superficial bastard, isn't it?" There was no feeling to anything he said and the fact that he used her words from months before, Farrah was terrified.

Gently, she tried to cup his cheeks with trembling hands willing him to look at her. "Are you checking to see if I did any drugs?" His statement stilling her movements again. "I didn't. It was offered to me, but I didn't take it. A lot was offered to me, but I didn't take it," He said as he raised his face to lock gazes with Farrah.

For the first time in a while Farrah wished she remembered what the hell it was in that article she wrote as a filler for the BBCS website. It was something to do with identifying physical traits of someone on drugs. Her mind was completely blank, but as she looked into his dull, tired, lifeless eyes; she decided to believe him. She believed him when he said he refused the drugs. But her heart still ached as the image flashed before her eyes; Richard and those two women. Granted, it was pretty tame, but it still tore at her inside. Farrah swallowed, her emotions a mess of a whirlpool.

"Farrah, I need you to leave," Richard said, evenly.

Farrah's shoulders slumped, and her hands dangled by her sides. "This, is the second time you've called me by my name. Y-yo-you..you..n-never call me by my n-name in private...," she stuttered. "Richard, talk to me. Tell me what's wrong?" she almost begged.