Confidant & Playlist

12. Wake Up Alone

Author's Note

Merry early Christmas Hoolies! I won't be posting another chapter of this fan fic until anfter Christmas so here's an early present, the 12 chapter of Confidant!

So many thanks and much love,

~Jaz

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Mid-Janurary 2012

"Phoe," I say into the receiver. "Does she like it?" I ask.

"I know she opened it but, I haven't seen here with it on, sorry Bruno." I sigh. "You should have seen her face when she saw it. It lit up. I wish you could have seen it."

"She likes it," I breathe as I smile a smile that I haven't smiled since the last time Lacey and I enjoyed each other's company. I set my red electric guitar down in my lap and lean down to rest my elbows on my thighs. Staring at the floor, I turn the ring on my index finger. I remember when she was here last, on this floor. It was only two years ago that we were sitting here watching movies and stuffing our faces. Together, but not TOGETHER.

"She does. I let her think that I got it for her, but I don't think she believed me; that's why I don't think she's wearing it. I'm sure that she's figured out it's from you." Another less happy sigh leaves my body as the smile turns into a hard line once more. "Bruno listen, I know Lacey is a very difficult person to understand but there's something that has changed in her since she's met you and I know I'm not the only one who sees it. Keep trying, don't give up on her, ok?"

"I wouldn't be able to if I tried."

"Knowing her, she's probably wearing it in secret," she laughs lightly trying to make the conversation seem more positive.

"Yeah probably," I say back.
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Staring down at the circular pendant of gold and glass, I turn it over in my palm. The contents: a gold 'L' with diamonds encrusted into the longer of the two lines and a red heart-shaped crystal gem, tumble around and re-situate themselves. I draw the necklace up my the clasp, open it and proceed to put it on. My hands move slowly down both sides of the chain to the pendant. I look at myself in the mirror then close my eyes. Without warning, in the mirror I see Bruno behind me; I feel the heat from his body, so close to but not touching mine. I feel his nimble fingers than his strong hands on my waist. He rests his hands on my hips as he often did when we were still 'together'. He leans in and rests his head on my shoulder against mine.

"Do you like it?" Imaginary Bruno asks. "I know you're not for the flashy-flashy stuff."

"It's a little flashy," I reply.

"That's not what I asked you," he chuckles. "I figured it would be a good segue between the two."

I love it," I answer. When I open my eyes, he's gone and I'm alone again. I lift the pendant in to my shirt and continue getting dressed. Lastly, I drape a scarf over my neck to hide the rest of the chain.

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Before walking into the office I take a deep breath and adjust my outfit. First my top, then my skirt, my blazer and then my hair. I quickly take out my mirror and check for fly-always then I slip it away once more. I knock on the door and wait.

"Come in," I hear a voice say. I enter the office. On the wall opposite me is a cork board of model snapshots, article titles and scenery. A large white book shelf stands to the right of the board against the wall filled with books, magazines and decorative ornaments. To the right of the desk is an easel with a few pieces pinned on it but for the most part it is bare. At the rooms center is a glass desk with a Mac computer at its left side, a keyboard, a fresh bouquet of white roses a small stack of thick magazines beneath a small circular clock, another set of different magazines between two silver bookends, a small lamp and a white ceramic mug with steam rising from its surface. At the desk sits a woman in a brown leather chair. She wears white peep-toe-ankle-strap-platform heels, slick black skinny jeans, a black double belted peplum top and a pale powder pink blazer just past the hips. She has on a simple silver necklace with a small pendant, a chunky chain bracelet on her right hand and a small silver bangle on her left. Her chestnut brown hair, parted on the left falls straight just past her shoulders. Her blue eyes are dressed in simple dark shadow at the their corners and along each crease, thin black liner and cat eyes and defined brows. To finish her face she wears a nude lipstick. She looks only a few years older than I am, perhaps in her early to mid-thirties. She stares at computer screen tapping away at the keyboard. "Have a seat please," she says without looking up. "I will be with you in a moment." I do as she asks and take a seat in one of the two white armchairs opposite the desk. She types for a few minutes more an then arranges some papers on her desk. Then she looks to me. "Laceanna Monterro correct?"