#WoATTSIA

[alt3rl1fe-electriclady]

I.

The glitz and the glamour were all that came to be of June's life by the time her twenty-seventh birthday arrived. A star at the age of eight, flashing lights and big names seem to grasp her, her life by the neck; giving no indication of letting go. Tonight the hold seemed to feel tighter as they sang Happy Birthday and she cut the cake. For a moment then, June imagined herself to be Pollyanna's dog. As a child, whenever she came over Polly's house next door, the dog was always there tied to one of the front porch balusters. Sweet old Choco then would try to approach and play with June, only to retreat as the leash tightened and the distance between him and the baluster grew. Of course, unlike June, Choco would soon bite Mr. Farley's hand as he tried to move him to another place, and into who-knows-where he runs off to; never to be seen again. Not that any of the Farleys bothered to look for him anyway. As a child (and even now sometimes), June often imagine the dog found by a nicer, caring family. She envisions him laying on the couch with them, or playing fetch, or on a nice walk. Anything really but the more realistic thought that in a town like theirs, poor Choco probably lived the rest of his days on the streets- sniffing garbage bags for food and eventually dying on the road with CPV.

It's February 19th, the outside pavement of her apartment building filled and practically spilling onto the busy road. Drivers probably hate her now, June thought to herself. Of course, if one of them ever bothered to get out of the car, walk past the lobby, ride the elevator, and berate her there would be no bone in her body to apologize. Her brows too were furrowed, eyes narrowed at the sight, her arms practically glued in their position folded within each other. If it was bad for them, think about her- they're waiting for her. Thirty minutes ago she still felt horrible as she imagined Lawrence sitting in the booth by himself. No doubt waiting for June's arrival before ordering even just a drink. However now, the frustration and rage have blinded her the only thought she has is how nice it would be to jump off the window towards them below and have these stupid paparazzo be scarred for the rest of their lives. She believes she does have the guts to do it, but unfortunately a very sweet man awaits her at The Tarot. It would be very rude to not only stand him up but also kill his wife on the same day. With another angry honk from below, June grabs a coat and heads back to the party downstairs. Expecting every single one of them to be predictably in their own me-worlds within each other, as fast as she can she heads towards the elevator. A sigh of relief as she rests her head on the wall comes out, with the doors slowly shutting itself- a short lived moment of limited peace as a hand sticks itself in-between. An unfamiliar face meets June's glance, one she took effort for, raising her head for her eyes to meet his.

"Leaving so soon?"

"I felt quite a disappointment, I expected the first slice to be given to me."

With such boldness, she raises an eyebrow in response. June took advantage of the comfortable silence they seem to share and studied this man's face some more. Trying so hard, but she really just can't seem to recall him if she knew him. If she did know him she definitely would have remembered him- his face was not one to forget. Then again, she meets loads of people everyday perhaps the age is coming up to her.

"I'm sorry, have we met before?"

"Believe me, if we did, you never would've forgotten it. Just like you won't forget this."

She believes him, but she doesn't tell him that. He seems to have already quite the ego and she was not about to inflate it more. They stop at the eight floor. With a small smile for her, he steps out and walks into the hallways. For a minute June is tempted to follow him, to know him, but it's only with her eyes does she do and keeps her legs stay put at the same spot they've been on this entire ride. Somehow his smile told her this wouldn't be the last of their meeting. A very brief smile, almost routine, as if he'd be giving it to her til the end of their days.

As she's walking past the revolving door, her eyes have already settled on Lawrence. No hint of disappointment or anger on his face which makes her worry. Does he really understand or is he just done? It's not the first time something like this has happened, and the question arise in her head; but still in the three years of marriage she did not want to breathe life into them and actually get the answers. The have to skip the first three courses, he explained. All that's left now is the main course and dessert seeing as they're to close soon (and turn into a speakeasy with the entrance through the kitchens, but everyone pretends not to know that). Throughout the entire meal various conversations took place but one was held in the back of June's head. Why was he not at the party? It was her birthday party, somehow a few old childhood industry friends even arrived- ones she hasn't seen since the age of eleven, yet somehow her husband was nowhere to be found. She could've asked, it was very easy to ask. She would ask and Lawrence would answer, he's an honest and kind man there would be no issue. Yet the entire dinner, she did not ask. It was only after the dinner, the gift, and carriage ride in the park, when they got back home to the brownstone, getting ready for bed that she did ask him.

"I'm sorry, truth is I found out of the party last minute. I came from the studio and wanted to make it to the restaurant before we lost the reservation"

"You could've just paid them extra to save it. I really wanted you there, I barely knew anyone in there."

"I didn't think you would take long to be honest. Like you said, you barely knew anyone there."

"Look, June I'm really sorry. I admit it was a wrong on my part. Please forgive me, I'll make it up to you starting tomorrow."

June walks over to kiss him "You can make it up to me now."

Pushing him onto the bed, she did wonder suddenly if she really wanted him there. Then she thought of that man, and wondered how different meeting him would be with her husband by her side.

"What's on your mind?" Lawrence whispers, his face tucked in her neck, him between her.

"Nothing's wrong."

"Good, focus on me then."

Whispers of A Town That's Seen It All

Stories are passed through generations in a distant coastal town where once an unforgettable woman lived to leave the chaos that came to being herself.

[alt3rl1fe-electriclady]

II.

In the town of Cotrille, time seemed to have moved back for quite a number of years. Phones still needed wires, all televisions had antennas, news still came first from the paper (which everyday everyone had already before the sun could go up). When June first arrived, it felt as if she had stepped into some alternative dimension in a wrong process of time traveling into the past. If it was up to her, the first visit was enough for a lifetime. She's not one for change and she hated having to adapt living here twice a year to visit Lawrence's grandmother. She never told her husband that she couldn't understand why he insists on bringing her along for these week-sometimes two-long visits. Carleen Bronswicke felt strongly about her. You could tell by the way her face morphs into one of narrowed eyes, flared nostrils, and pursed lips at the sight of June, or even the slightest reminder of her existence. Yet, with what has happened the past month she now welcomed Cotrille more than ever. For once, she didn't mind Carleen's quiet but meant-for-her-to-hear scoffs upon entrance in any room her in law was already in; nor did she mind using the tv and spending more time with the no signal screen than actually watching a channel. Actually, that part felt pleasing and satisfying to her. As if she and her husband were stuck in their own bubble, the only existence that mattered was theirs and nothing else. She was away, far away.. from the mobs downstairs her apartment or her own face in big vinyl banners. When she visited the only coffee shop of Cotrille yesterday, the aged barista made no indication of June Raidord being even the slightest bit familiar- not even hearing a mention once perhaps from the radio. The ignorance of the people towards her status that she's now noticed more than ever motivated her the following morning to make a coffee run- for her, Lawrence, and even Carleen. Unfortunately, the bright summer sky had betrayed her and by the time she came home, the though of pouring coffee all over her body to recreate the feeling of a needed hot bath had already crossed her mind twice.

"You did not put enough creamer" Carleen called out to June as she followed Lawrence up, who drew her that needed bath.

As she laid on the eggshell clawfoot, bubbles up to her chin, the thunder started bringing a sense of relaxation upon her. It felt more like muffled background noise with soft thumps on the window from the raindrops, the harshness ignored. Afraid to close her eyes, fall asleep, and drown, June studied the ceiling instead. Noticing some paint cracks and a cobweb at one corner, her mind goes through a series of multiplication of her thoughts. It felt as if with each thought that came out, two came from that, and two would come from each of that, and it continued endlessly until she learns to choose which one to stay on. Perhaps she could start the events following her birthday. Lawrence really was as apologetic as he had said, and the following days after February 19th was a train of flower bouquets, breakfast in bed (usually with dessert), and spontaneous visits on shoots. Honestly it felt like the early days of their relationship. Though he was still only nearing his big break at the time while she was already established, she was the one doing surprise pop-ups and it was in her old penthouse that they woke up looking at each others faces. The flowers were always his thing though, and when he had spare time there would be a card. After work or during her off days, she'd go with him to the studio. Occasionally helping him write some lyrics when he's stuck, or usually he'd teach her how to play the keyboard. Then they'd go home, have dinner (sometimes in opposite order), and make love. Lawrence later got an opportunity to perform a private concert for a prominent family, and June remembered how excited he had been telling her about it.

"You should come along" he said by the end

"Really, you think so?"

"Oh yeah, definitely. I've never been to Georgia, and neither have you, we should experience the first time together- as a family." his addition of family sent a warm feeling through her heart.

"I suppose I could come, but I still have that important project on the day you leave. You'd have to wait for me."

"I don't think Mr. Surameli would be happy with that, but maybe I can make it up to him" June took note how his face darkened at the thought. She knew he would do it for her, but she didn't know just how much he'd regret it.

"Here's an idea. How about you go on ahead so you come on time, and I'll get on the jet as soon as I'm done."

"Sound good" and finally his face brightened up again.

That moment reminded her of how easy it was to read Lawrence. He tried so hard but his heart was honestly was part his sleeve, at this point it was at the tip of his fingers if that made sense. Although they were only going to be apart for less than a full day, June acted as if he'd be gone for three. Clinging onto him every chance she got and showering him with extra love. On the day he flew out, she spent her entire morning updating him over the little things via text- she liked imagining his face later when he got signal again and started reading each of them. Wearing a sleek white coat with a comfortable jumpsuit inside, colors matching her headband, she took on the day and tried not to look forward too much on seeing her husband again. Perhaps we're too clingy she thought on the walk or I'm too clingy. Quentin's office was a 35 minute walk away from June and Lawrence's home. It was sleek and practically in its entirety, made of marble. The only flowers he liked were blue hydrangeas and so the place was full of it. Ignoring the receptionist, June headed straight onto the elevator to the middle floor. Another thing about Quentin is that he's scared of heights and was horrified learning the top people resided on the top floor. He kept it as a secondary office for big name visitors to head on to and he's pretend for awhile that he does regularly work there. So far, only Olivia Knowles has been caught up in it. Upon her entrance in his office, the short man looked up at her quietly for a moment. Studying her, and what was around her. Instinctively, June felt her defenses go up.

"What?" she said sharply.

"No Lawrence today? What's next, aliens have landed into our humble city?"

"He flew for work." she says as she rolls her eyes, and adds on "if you care so much, you should know I am following and seeing him later tonight."

"You mean tomorrow. I'm pretty sure the fastest flight is 14 hours."

"Did you make me come here to talk about flight hours?"

"Of course not. Here's the address of that project I told you about." He says as he searches a s small pile of papers. "Sorry about giving it late, the office has been a mess ever since Christine left."

"It's fine. Thanks."

Back to the city's streets, June walked with her mind barely with her body. It was running at least a thousand steps ahead of her, getting to the shoot first perhaps so it can come back and help her prepare for any situation that could possibly arise. She's a horse with blinders now. Counting in her head each block until she reaches the place; occasionally, cursing herself for not getting a ride but with the traffic in this city she could probably take a nice long bath first and still somehow arrive on foot before the car ever could. There seems to be an invisible pathway just for her. Yet, instead of continuing down to the headquarters of THE TABLE, it abruptly ended on the tip of his foot.

"You again" were the first words uttered of surprise. It was him again. Back at that party, the elevator, the smile that leaves you wanting more. Unforgettable face.

"Normally, people say "I'm sorry" after bumping into someone on the street but I suppose I'll be nice today and accept that."

"I'm sorry"

Brief silence followed and after some thoughts, June had decided it was time to go. As one foot stepped forward though, and another, his voice broke the ending silence and opened their window once more.

"Make it up to me. Buy me a drink"

Taken aback, thoughts of walking away and pretending not to have heard him crossed June's mind. It felt insane. They met once and she didn't even catch his name, yet he's already entered her home.

"Oh I'd like to, but I have an important work thing to get to and after that I'm flying out to my husband." is what she should've said. It's what she thought; but somehow her lips could only form one sound

"Yes."

It didn't even make sense in the context. Even if she had intended to say it. Still, he took that yes as an answer. And before she could fully grasp the decision she made and the situation she's placed herself in, her third bourbon had already slid its way down her throat. Cassian he said his name was. It was also on the card he put the tab in, yet somehow she felt she didn't know his name at all. When he told her, she almost laughed out loud to herself. She didn't think he looked like a Cassian. Damon, if she had to guess. When she told him such thought, he laughed in disbelief and ordered another round as he declared her too drunk for her own good. Jokes exchanged, conversations got too serious at times, small remarks here and there. It was so public and shameless, a situation June has detested in her life. Somehow, still, tonight it was of no matter. He took her to this place where no one cared, and nobody bothered to. It wasn't normality that she craved and got, it was the total nonexistence of her existence. Everyone here was nobody. The bartender would be a philanthropist the moment he stepped outside, another customer would be a pop star overnight. For a brief moment she looked at that singer and thought how much Lawrence would hate it here. He loved the limelight, practically basked in it. She wondered once if he'd die without recognition. It was a clear difference between them which made several, including June herself and her mother, wonder if the marriage was really compatible. It didn't help that they only knew each other a few months before settling down; but now she believes no matter what happens it was a decision never to regret. June wonders if she were to regret this night with Cassian though. Careful not to trust the feeling of freedom, watching the doors and waiting for everything to come back crashing down even stronger. The night was long and though the two were oblivious to it, the boundaries of two strangers (one married, and the other ) having a drink blurred and cleared several times. At last redefining itself this time permanent as she stumbled into the soft couch of her penthouse foyer- her flight missed, her husband waiting.

Whispers of A Town That's Seen It All

Stories are passed through generations in a distant coastal town where once an unforgettable woman lived to leave the chaos that came to being herself.