Page 14 of The Grosvenor's Ghost
Since Arthur I’ve been walking around like a grey cloud, raining on all the perfectly white ones.
I thought seeing Dr.Kane regularly would help, I thought the medication would help, I thought moving on would help—but it’s all shit, nothing has worked because he isn’t here.
He is my only antidote.
I’ve been a freeballing mess.
Sat in the drivers seat, going a million miles per hour without being able to stop because he fucking stole the brake pedal.
He took everything that night.
He reached into my body, took my heart, my lungs, my kidneys and you can’t last without those vital organs—you can’t walk around with a smile and pretend like everything is okay because you’re fucking dead. This whole time I’ve been rotting from the inside out. I wondered if anybody else could see it but they couldn’t because it’s quite easy to dress up a dead body in their best clothes and red lipstick.
It was like Time had yet to exist when he left, everything happened all at once. The birth of Chaos sprung up in front of me like a Jack-in-the-box and suddenly everything was there.
With my heart in his bruised hands, he disappeared into the night a little bit like Nyx only on that night when darkness fell, Eos never swung the gates open and painted the sky pink which in turn meant that Apollo never drove his chariot across the sun and blanketed the world in a bright blue.
Day never came, it was just constant darkness.
And it can get very lonely being bathed in a constant darkness that no one else can see.
I’m glad no one comes looking for me, I didn’t want anyone too and I think they know by now not to. I’ve been disappearing off into the bathrooms quite a bit lately and because I don’t have the pelvic floor of a pregnant woman, they know it’s not because I’m constantly needing a wee.
After maybe five or so minutes, I go back out to the table.
Albie looks as though he has calmed down dramatically but as well know, looks can be deceiving—especially looks fromStratton’s. There was a story, actually, that went around about a year ago that he cut some guys fingers off with a smile on his face. I never asked if it was true because it isn’t my place to ask nor did I want to know. George did tell me that it was because he lost a bet and it’s no secret that those twins love their money.
Not sure I’d want to be tangled up in their games of truth or dare but each to their own, I suppose.
“Are you feeling better?” Digby asks in a whisper. “If you want we can stop off and get you something to eat on the way home.”
Shake my head, lick my lips. “I’m fine—I’m okay.”
He nods but not because he believes me but because he doesn’t care. You can pretend like you care, you can pretend to do anything but actually doing something is a whole different ball game—one Digby has never been a constant player in.
The dinner dwindles on into the late night, we order some drinks, we talk about going to a club but ultimately decide not to because those days are kind of over for us now—that and we’re all still a bit worse for wear from New Year’s.
It’s Digby who makes the first sign for us to leave, he claps his hands, downs the rest of his drink and signals for me to get up.
“Hang on,” George puts his hand up. “Are you ready to go?”
I glance at the table, wonder who he is talking to.
“Phoebs?” He says with a slight frown. “Are you ready to leave?”
I shrug. “I guess so.”
“Course she is,” Digby says for me. “I just watched her yawn.”
I stand beside Digby, facing George but really, I’m in the middle, watching them pull each of my arms like a rag doll.
“Yeah, but,” George tuts, cocks his head. “Weren’t asking you, was I?”
“Just stay for another drink!” Athena smiles, leaning into George.
I look over to Spencer for some kind of resolution but she simply shrugs with worried eyes. She can’t tell me what to do. We aren’t kids anymore. We’re all grown adults.
“It’s fine,” I hear myself saying for the billionth time. “I am tired, we’ll go home.”
