COMPLICATED.

CHAPTER 34

UPPER EAST SIDE

I can't believe I had to invent a sudden phone call to get away from what was happening to me. I had to run to get to the most isolated part of the garden.
I even turned off some colored lights to almost disappear in the dark.
At least for a few minutes.
I need some fresh air.
Sigh lifted at the thought of being able to breathe for the first time since this afternoon.
Too many events all together, not that I'm surprised. These days have been the most eventful of my whole life.
Overcoming these situations is becoming a piece of cake, unfortunately.
Although I will never stop being amazed at how much people have the ability to talk and ask questions all the time, without bothering to seem stressful or inappropriate. It's nice that someone is so interested in your life but that doesn't have to be a reason to start a one-hour interrogation.
What can I expect? We're talking about high society people, used to know everything about everyone.
New York is a big metropolis but when it comes to the Upper East Side no one can, under any circumstances, fall behind in the latest gossip or news. They can only talk behind your back but at the same time praise you as the Queen of England herself. Those who didn't accept this thought were almost always marginalized.
The daughters and sons of the most powerful owners of banks or heirs were taught this way. There're always exceptions, I was one of the few.
My parents raised me with the simple philosophy of "living and letting live".
'Be yourself and walk with your head held high. Always.' is the mantra that I have tried to follow all my life.
There have been criticism. Despite everything the Harpers are very influential in this "small" world for several generations, a real institution. My father was becoming more and more established as one of the most famous writers internationally.
In conclusion, they worship them as if they were gods on earth, so much so that they even accept Paul's so-called "grumpy and impulsive" attitude.
God forbid Paul is just a ten-year-old!
When my brother was being attacked, I was getting on my nerves, and it wasn't a few times that my father had to stop me from jumping on the paparazzi and everyone who allowed themselves to judge my family.
Every day is an opportunity for me to analyze the world I belong to and hope to escape from soon. I've always tried to be the perfect little girl, the role model, for mom's sake. But the more time passes, the more I change, the less I can keep up this farce.
It's all over the news.
Gossip here, gossip there...
Guess who was the last news of the week!
Of course, me.
"The daughter of famous writer Henry Hamilton and superb Theresa Harper abandons her family and her legacy to follow her stupid dream of singing in the rainy city of London."
I can already picture them, all the teasing and the jokes. Not to mention the articles in the tabloids!
I was surrounded as if I were a caged animal, everyone stared at me smiling and taking pictures on tape. I was on tilt for I don't know how long. My answers were always automatic and cold while the questions were well targeted and sharp.

"What has troubled you so much in your life to reject our majestic city?

"Are you sure? In short, singing is not a real profession. Indeed, it's not a profession at all! "

"Don't you feel guilty for not following your mother's footsteps?! HARPER PUBLICATIONS can't have a sequel without a female Harper in charge! "

Now that I think about it, interrogation seemed like a series of endless accusations.
I raise my eyes to the sky and ask the stars silently, or whatever is mystical, to control what I say and what I do.
Although it's impossible I have to do it and face them again.
The party was organized by Nick and I'm not going to ruin it.
He has had to endure far too much in the past, after the various accusations
that were made by the press to his family after his father's death. I couldn't bear to see him suffer like that again. He was just a child. These bastards!
Besides, who would absorb his adorable whining if he'll know that I didn't like the guests?!
We both know my mom had to invite them, it's not her fault.
Imagining his sweet, clubbed puppy face instantly rips a huge smile with laughter.
I touch with my fingers the bracelet I put two minutes ago on my left wrist and make the two pendants tinkle.
I think from now on I'll never get tired of seeing it on...
I look desperately in the crowd for those eyes like the crystal clear water that I now know too well.
After analyzing every single person, I can see him .
There he is, blocked by the hands and looks of some debutante and heiress.
He's forced to turn his face from right to left every second to thank every girl for the thousand compliments received.
He unsolves the tie unnecessarily and then rearrange it only a second later, arousing in them hysterical cries.
Needless to say, he could make them all fall in love without even talk.
You can tell by a mile that he's uncomfortable and doesn't know how to get out.
So he continues to endure in silence by shyly engaging in conversation, but not until he has ascertained where I had gotten myself.
As if he read my mind, after having inspected with his eyes attentive all the corners and the center of the dance floor, his gaze rests on mine.
He gives me his typical dazzling smile, which he reserves just for me.
All right, now I feel just like one of those girls. If not worse...
I raise my hand a little to greet him.
Take advantage of the moment when the girls are talking to each other to quietly move his lips and ask me if everything is all right.
He smiled awkwardly and reassured him by raising my thumb up.
He laughs and in the instant he tries to take a few steps towards me he is forcibly dragged by three of the girls towards the center to go dancing.
<< You're so screwed! >> I yell at him so he can hear me.
He snorts showing me his middle finger.
Eventually he decides to surrender to their strong grip.
I stand here alone and watch him walk away from me chased by beautiful debutantes, who grind on him...
No, hell no. I can't be jealous.
I need a cocktail. I walk quickly to the buffet when the arms make me spin as fast as a spinning top.
The instant I stop, I get swept up by a warm hug and I focus on the person in front of me. My mood has definitely picked up.
<< NO. I CAN'T BELIEVE IT.
Please tell me this is the flagship dress in the new Sherri Hill collection. Dear, I love it, I approve! >>
<< Marcus! Oh my God! I'm so happy! What are you doing here?! >>
He holds my hands firmly and shake them from side to side.
<< Do you think that I could miss my stylish cousin's college graduation party? No way! There is no stage in this world that can keep me away from you! Congratulations! >> he exclaims with his usual high-pitched voice.
Marcus, more than a cousin is the older brother I never had. Olive skin, blue eyes , long hair gathered in a crunch , minute body and a great mind. Despite being older than me by seven years he understands me so much. He is responsible for almost all of my wardrobe. That's where Mom got her clothes for my walk-in closet! He has an amazing sense of fashion, sometimes it seems even better than that of many stylists. He attends internships in various fashion houses of almost all America, he travels a lot. The few times I see him it's always an endless joy.
In spite of my aunt's numerous implorations, in the usual family meetings he never comes alone, he is always accompanied by his continuous boyfriends , each different from the other. Ever since he came out, he falls in love so easily that he's probably lost track of how many times he's got dumped. He claims that every breakup is a flash of genius to create new garments for the clothing line he's about to launch into the fashion world.
For those who know him, he knows that it's his way to show no sadness. He would prefer not to go to the parades any more to avoid showing how much he suffers. In spite of everything, he never loses his desire to exult from all the pores.
<< I have to introduce you to Pablo, my new boyfriend. He's from Spain. He's an artist, so he has that character a bit dark, the one that makes your head spin! >> he says hopping around.
He wears a suit of my own color studded with carefully designed flowers and the jacket is so long behind that it looks almost like a cloak. So extravagant that it's even too good on him.
<< Sorry, and that Alex from last month? You said he was the man of your life. To me, he seemed a bit 'dumb. He eat cereals at all hours of the day! >>
<< Who, the gardener/ model?! >> he whispers making disgusting faces.
Let me guess...
<< He broke up with me. >> we chant together.
<< Whoever dumped you, I don't know how they allowed themselves if you were wearing that amazing suit! >> Aria says coming out of my shoulders and letting the wide blue dress she is wearing flutter on me.
<< Marcus, this girl who is as crazy as you is Aria, she's my new friend, she attended the Spanish course with me.... >>
<< Spanish?! Finally someone he can talk to, he feels so uncomfortable ,poor thing! Juan Pablo, mi amor! > Marcus screams making me jump.
He drags Aria by force from this boy who turns confused and frightened on their side.
He wears tight black trousers and a long and half-open blue shirt that lets glimpse a loose white tank top. He hides his black eyes under huge eyeglasses and the hat with "Esperancia" written on it covers his long chestnut locks.
<< It was my same reaction, don't worry. My obtuse brother called his style "Urban Fashion". It just seems to me that he dressed like this because they were the only clean clothes he found. You have to see how angry he gets when I tell him! >> Deborah says, examining Pablo from head to toe.
Deborah is definitely the opposite of Marcus. Apart from the physical aspect, in that they are identical. They fight a lot, I don't think I've ever seen them in peace with each other.
I know almost nothing about her because she's a very reserved girl, she tends to keep everything very secret. She cares a lot about her privacy.
All I know is that she's on her senior year in Literature so that, once she'll graduate, she'll work alongside mom and aunt. After all, in the future there will be a Harper in charge but not the one that everyone wants...
I don't even know if the idea excites her or not. Whenever at meetings my mother and my aunt talk about their strategies and what the rules are she nods with an absent gaze.
She's a difficult girl to decipher but in one thing I envy her a lot: she lets things slip from herself.
"Fuck everyone, do whatever you think! " she once said to me when I was cruelly attacked by the paparazzi.
She doesn't talk much, but when she decides to do it, she takes your breath away.
After a few minutes she looks away to address me.
<< Congratulations, cousin. >> she whispers and gives me her hand.
Here's another thing about her: she's not very affectionate.
I approach mine to hers and I hold her by thanking her.
The squeeze lasts less because she seems more interested in looking around and checking every two times three her phone, as if she's waiting for a message at any moment.
<< You're right, run away while you can. >> she whispers hastily pressing buttons on the small screen.
<< They will always follow me. >>>
<< They will always follow us. You're certainly not the only one. >>
Her voice is so low that to be heard by another person there's the need of a megaphone. I'm one of the few who can understand any of her whispered words, if I'm lucky sometimes even her silences.
<< You don't have to be a part of it, Deb. Follow your dream, whatever it is. >>
Hearing my sentence forces her to look me straight in the eyes.
<< I already am, I love studying literature and I love the idea of working for a publishing house. Only the thought of being Harper's future administrator...>>
She turns to the guests again and shrugs his shoulders in what I think is an attempt to relax.
<< ...gives me the creeps. >>
And I thought I was the only one facing a tough time!
Something must have happened to have the courage to tell me this. Her face speaks for herself.
I want to hug her and tell her everything's gonna be okay, but I don't know how she's gonna react, so I decide to let it go.
<< What would you like to do one day? >>
She just opens her eyes.
<< You're the second person who has asked me this in my whole life. >> says giggling.
Her phone suddenly turns on and alerts her of a new message.
The corners of her mouth are slightly raised, she's definitely trying to hide a smile.
<< And is he the first one? >> I ask her by pointing out the phone that she holds in her hands.
At the same time as she seems to want to answer me, we realize that Aria and Pablo barely follow Marcus, who runs in quick steps towards us. One second before Marcus catches up with us, she puts her lips on my ear and whispers the words that have always been hard to get out of her. She finally tells me her little secret.
<< I want to be a writer. >>
I remember one day I had peeked through her desktop files and read a few chapters of a hypothetical book. She had a formidable talent for writing intriguing, melodramatic stories. I was really enjoying the story, until Deb realized it and furiously ripped the computer out of my hands. She made me promise not to talk to anyone and because she frightened me, I kept it a secret for a couple of years.
<< Yes, I think you should. >> I say it smiling while Marcus presents me enthusiastically his new flame.