Way Down We Go

Chapter Thirty

"I woke up to another mess in the living room
Broken bottles all around my feet
They came again in the night under crescent moon
Didn't wake me in my sleep"

Waking, I grunted loudly. My eyes fluttered open, spotting one of the living rooms in my castle. Hissing as the pounding in my head and limbs echoed, I slowly sat up. I groaned, moving a hand to my hair, holding my sore head. It pounded worse than the screaming in my limbs. My right arm ached horridly, for it had been lain outstretched, a makeshift pillow for my head. Underneath the oversized sweatpants that I suspected weren't my own, my legs bent upwards, curled in a pitiful lump that was well on it's path to self destruction.

My bones cracked loudly as I sat on the carpet. I looked around. Through bleary vision, alabaster couches with crimson cushions. A glass coffee table with an expensive, wound-glass vase full of ambrosia and amaryllis. A flat screen TV on a wall mount, a floor-to-ceiling window on the other side of the room.

I moaned in spite of myself, grunting as I slowly stood up from the floor, my bones screaming and begging mercy with every molecular movement, staggering out towards the hallway. Blindly, I stumbled over towards my apartments, now realising that my skin was slick with sweat and my hair damp with grease.

I took a long shower, letting the hot water take away all the dirt and grime, forcing my bones and muscles relax underneath the water that turned my skin from a clammy grey-white to a dark pink. Hearing Brie and Madison knock upon the door, I slowly left the watery safe heaven and wrapped myself in towels, walking slowly out of the washroom to the conjoining rooms, starting to get ready for my day.

"'Cause they talk and drink and laugh 'bout things
And fall in love in my backyard
I hide and cower in the corner
Conversation's getting hard
'Cause nobody seems to ask about me anymore
And nobody seems to care 'bout anything I think
And nobody seems to recognise me in the crowd
In the background screamin', "everybody, look at me""

"So, Scarlett, how are you feeling about the divorce proceedings?" the red head asked me. "'Cause they're quite far done, aren't they?" he finished. I sighed, shaking my head, taking a sip of the hot almond and hazelnut flavoured Americano with almond milk in the tall, white cup in my hand. I fixed my straight, ass length bright blonde wig, brushing a few locks behind my ear, letting my tall, filed blackened nails skate across the baker-boy hat I wore on top. I turned from the window to my companion.

"Our legal team is far stronger than his, 'cause even with his mothers' money, their income pails in comparison to mine. But they're stubborn, digging their heels in at every given opportunity. We drag them through each and every step, kicking and screaming. They protest every movement and development. We just have to play a waiting game, for their money to run out until they give us what we want." I finished.

"You're starving them out?" he asked me.

I turned to look at him. My green contacts bore into his eyes and I saw the shudder.

"They sold me." I growled. "Sold me an an agreement to benefit our parents' companies, him, too. I fought the marriage with everything I had, and it was nearly enough." As much of a bitch as fighting the chains of marriage had been, it was almost doubly worse trying to get them to loosen. The Valois were stubborn, they weren't going to let go of my money as quick as they let go of me.  

"I still can't believe how your marriage came about, forcing the issue when neither of you wanted it." he shook his head.

"Yeah," I sighed. "I might've tricked myself into thinking that I loved him as much as I did, perhaps desperate to find happiness in my sham union. And now that it's over," I sighed. "I don't know." I shook my head, sipping from the hot coffee.