* 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 !

TIME SKIP TO THE DATE AUCTION !

     of all the places in the world , the date auction stage cape coral has built , decorated and practically turned into a shrine to the wealthy is the LAST place giuliana wants to be. like a prize farm animal ( or perhaps , more fittingly , a lamb to the slaughter ) , she stands facing a sea of the school’s most judgmental eyes , feeling the uncomfortable burn of the overhead spotlight on her skin. even after a day spent in the nebulous fog of her high blood alcohol content , and with the STERN pre-auction pep talk offered by ophelia song herself , she can feel pressure-induced anxiety slowly ( but surely ) take over her body , little by little. though , truth be told , it’s unclear whether it’s her emotions or the silk lining and boning of her dress that are to blame for her shortness of breath. her gaze descends to meet her mother’s who , for the first time in weeks , looks at her with pride , likely satisfied at the prospect of cape coral turning into a metaphorical BLOODBATH over her firstborn. this , of course , is how you satiate the beast : with a public show of strength , of poise , of superiority. after all , her ancestors across the southern coasts of china and in the many islands that comprise the italian peninsula have fought for her right to wear a custom designer dress , drink expensive champagne and sell herself on a makeshift stage , right ?

     the bidding starts and all giuliana can do is look away , ignoring the exorbitant amounts that are being yelled out in connection with her first and last name. the whole ordeal feels horrendously DEGRADING , far beyond even what she drew up in the dark corners of her mind. but , the worst part of it all ? the growing smiles creasing the otherwise immovable porcelain faces of her parents , just as the price for her company soars. it’s a reminder of their conditional love for her , of their need for her to rise to a certain level for them to even deign to recognize her as their own. she begins to zone out , little by little , as dollar amounts increase , sure that she knows how this story begins , occurs and ends. that is , until AXEL’s name is called out , with a dollar amount closely following it.

      the pair locks eyes almost instantly , with an ease reminiscent of their days as a couple , and all the words in the WORLD seem to be exchanged in the space of simple glance. for a split second ( or an eternity , for someone as caught up as giuliana is in axel’s gaze ) , they’re alone in the world , without parents , broken relationships or space. they’re giuliana and axel , the couple whom everyone heard wedding bells around as early as high school , who were pegged as SOULMATES from their first official meeting , who people associated with the word forever. she recalls trying out his last name with her first with the ink of a montblanc fountain pen against the pages of her journal. she recalls the thought of rings , bridesmaids , vows , a home , children. just as she’s comfortably settling into the daydream of the future she threw away , she catches her parents’ glares from the corner of her eye , both pointedly directed at axel. it’s not long before he spots them too , and before their looks ( which giuliana knows the effect of all too well ) drive him to swiftly exit the premises , with nothing and no one in tow. she feels herself almost lunge forward , for an instant , ready to stop him from leaving , ready to have him win this auction. but , instead , she freezes in place under the watchful eyes of her parents , and his absence creates room for cape coral’s bidders to resume their RAVENOUS games , higher and higher values associated with the pleasure of her company until a winner emerges from the lot.

     her name , spoken in tandem with her newly minted date , echoes out until it becomes nothing but white noise , her focus elsewhere than on the declaration that ryan atwood and his wallet have BOUGHT her ( a low he’s reached because both know that he could never win her ). while cape coral’s lacrosse captain celebrates vulgarly at his table , offering a loud high-five to his father , giuliana replays axel’s exit in her mind over and over , like a broken record. then , with a level of panache all of her fellow auctionees could only ever hope to live up to , she races off the stage , practically racing down each of the steps and the aisle that lead to the school’s garden. EXPERTLY , she kicks off both of her heels , leaving them behind as she sprints across cape coral’s freshly watered lawn , a single goal in mind : catch up to him. with each step he takes , the distance between them grows exponentially and the feat almost seems impossible , no matter how hard she ignores the pain of davina’s hand-sewn pearls digging into her waist.  her fingertips stretch out in axel’s direction , like flowers bent towards the sun , every part of her REFUSING to let him slip away. while her lips might not be able to admit aloud , her heart has the courage to admit that she needs him. ❝ axel , ❞ she breathes out , the single syllable barely audible to either of them , her fingers finally grazing the cotton of his shirt.

     he spins to face her , every ounce of the pain he’s feeling CLEARLY etched across his features. so clearly that she can physically feel her heart twist in the confines of her chest. as much as she’d rather bury the thought , she’s responsible for what he’s feeling. for the breakup , for its aftermath , for the the space , for the auction , for everything since she pushed the two of them apart. ❝ i’m sorry , ❞ she whispers out , fingers toying with the pearled hem of her skirt ( in an attempt to avoid reaching for his hands ) , ❝ about the auction , about my parents , about the space i’m very clearly not giving you. you … you deserve better than this , better than me. and better than the emotional MINEFIELDS i’m constantly dragging you into. ❞ as her brain guides her , she feels her heart and soul scream out. because the truth , which she’s carefully covering up with claims that she’s no good , is that she loves him. so much that she doesn’t know what to do about it , or where to put those feelings. they aren’t together ( and part of her isn’t sure that they should be , given what her presence in his life does to him ) and she knows that letting him go , for good , is what’s fairest to them both. like her heart , lungs and brain , he’s a part of her , wholeheartedly. a part she’s going to have to learn to live without.

                     COMING TO THE AUCTION WAS a mistake. a huge, colossal mistake. axel had already been on-edge most of the day, hardly able to pull himself together after his morning breakdown. he felt like a puppet, seeing his limbs move, his hands grasp wine glasses and whiskey glasses alike, but he felt empty inside, and he isn’t PROUD of it. he isn’t proud of the way that something as silly as a kiss could strip him of his feelings, of his personality, of his confidence. of everything that made him axel roy-dreyfus, the artist whose apartment doubled as a amateur therapist’s office, the way people came in and out to see him, to just chat and have a drink. whether he wants to admit it or not, giuliana clemonte is so TIGHTLY interwoven in axel’s matrix of emotions, of his personality, his identity. sometimes, he feels like he’s blazing a trail not just for himself, but to show her parents that he can be successful in untraditional manners. it’s probably about as PETTY as axel gets. 

the night goes by in one giant blur, partially because axel is hardly paying attention. he’s buzzed on a couple glasses of wine, still FORCING himself to keep composed, trying to control the aspects of his life he still has a grasp on — even if his fingers feel frail and numb, like he can hardly put a glass to his lips without second-guessing his strength. conversations with friends who seem more BROKEN than he is have left him no choice but to buckle up, to put on a happy, supportive stance when all axel really wants to do is go home, and lie down — but even home doesn’t feel welcome to him anymore. he’s been dodging yousef’s gaze all night, politely excusing himself from conversation if he even looks his way. he supposes he’s being dramatic: yousef is his BEST FRIEND, there’s nothing stopping him from simply going up to him and asking about what happened. he’s not in the wrong, after all. truthfully, axel supposes he’s embarrassed: to resort to crumbling in on himself rather than facing hard conversation. it’s what he had prepared himself to do, his entire time at cape coral — yet with two of his anchors now gone, he feels like a lifeboat, drifting away, further into sea with no real destination. but if he can help his friends: neels, ophelia, arden — if he can help them have better nights, then he can feel like he has PURPOSE again, at least. 

the little strength he had garnered from said conversations is fully ERASED when giuliana climbs up on stage, time spent with her being auctioned off. it’s almost laughable — how naive people are to think that time spent with her is quantifiable, how being in her presence, how the ability to make her laugh, to make her smile has a dollar amount attached to it. but she stands there, spotlights illuminating the softness of her skin. it’s clear she’s uncomfortable, that her parents have put her up to this ( the devil on axel’s shoulder TRIES to convince him that she’s doing this to move on, and this might be more public than tinder, but it certainly means she’ll be auctioned off to someone who could SUPPORT her ). the thought bubbles up inside him, igniting an ANGER inside him, and before he can talk himself out of it, he shouts an even higher amount in the air. 

STUPID. it’s stupid, it’s reckless, and is not at all giving her the SPACE they had agreed upon. no — in fact, it’s the exact opposite. he’s vying for her time again, like a hopeless puppy, BEGGING for attention again when it’s the last thing that he needs. his voice prompts giuliana to actually pay attention, her eyes searching for his in the crowd, and once they lock, for a moment, axel wants to smile. her eyes used to be the greatest source of COMFORT, he remembers gazing into them as they lay in bed, feeling safe, even without his parents around, feeling loved beyond measure, feeling respected, and adored, and looked up to. feeling like they could take on anything in the world — that is, except her parents. he can feel their icy gaze upon him, and he faces, them, too: mrs. clemonte’s eyes are furious, her lips pressed together in frustration. it doesn’t take him but a second to get the message — and luckily, someone else has saved him from a lifetime of scrutiny by increasing the bid. exit axel — he should know better he’s no longer welcome on stage with the clemonte’s eldest daughter anymore. he isn’t worthy. 

it’s a similar scene — one a little too FRESH in his brain for his liking. he feels his feet drag him OUT and AWAY again, perhaps the too literal sense of giving her space. he doesn’t know where he’s going, but he needs to be alone. he doesn’t have the mental, nor the emotional capacity to be a LIFEGUARD for anyone else except himself. save yourself, the angel on his shoulder whispers, one of the only times he thinks of himself before gazing into the eyes of each and every one of his friends before he used to leave a scene, to ensure every one of them would be getting home okay. he wouldn’t have been of any use anyway — the tears that well in his eyes can’t recognize anything except vague shapes and objects. he’s running away from the crowd, almost certain he is far enough to let tears flow freely without EMBARRASSMENT, when he hears her voice. her voice. he doesn’t need to turn around to recognize it, he would remember the sound of her voice in life and death. it’s soft — and axel’s almost scared to turn around, to face the source of all his inner turmoil. the tumultuous sea of emotions he can’t grasp. he’s not ready, not in the slightest.

but her fingers grasp the fabric of his shirt and he turns, knowing wholeheartedly that no matter how hard he TRIES to put distance between them, for the good of both of them, his heart is still tethered to her, and he’ll return back to her, like a boomerang, faster and stronger, and searching for her grasp. his heart physically ACHES, it pains, it calls out to him like he’s drowning, and this time, giuliana isn’t the anchor, she is the STORM. she doesn’t even know that he’s seen her, in the arms of someone else ( even if it was his best friend ) — and even if it feels like an arrow to the chest, he can’t help but replay the look the clemontes flashed him burns like a POISON in his mind, telling him to get out, echoes that ring in his brain until he does. 

“ gi, what are you doing out here? ” he asks as he shakes his head, knowing full well she should be back inside, with her family, with the guy who will be her date tomorrow. he refuses to let the tears in his eyes fall, to become evidence of how much PAIN he suffers — he won’t let her feel responsible for it. he forces himself to be numb, instead of sad, instead of heartbroken like he truly feels inside, the pieces of his heart glued together frantically like paper-mâché. “ no — i mean, was absolutely IDIOTIC of me to do that, in there, to bid on you — that’s the fucking opposite of space, and i’m — i’m sorry. i don’t … i don’t know why i did that, ” he says, running frantic fingers through his curls, feeling the chill of the night raise goosebumps under his lightweight shirt. “ i’m just … complicating things and i don’t want to be. your parents, gi — ” he sighs, feeling repercussions build exponentially, the weight of each choice he makes making him feel extremely small and utterly useless. “ — please, just tell them it was just me, okay ? that i’ve been … i dunno, trying to talk to you again, or something — the last thing they need to hear from you is talk about US. ” it absolutely pains him, more than ANYTHING, when all axel had wanted for the longest time was for him to be ACCEPTED by them. tonight has been all but explicit confirmation that they never will, that no matter how well he treated giuliana, he’d never be enough. he’d never be the son-in-law they would picture for their daughter, just as he’d never consider them as parental figures he so desperately longs for, even if he can’t admit it to himself. 

     though she’s forcefully withstood most of her parents’ conversation with the atwood family thus far , once the topic of rings is jokingly broached , she feels her stomach TURN. her parents are having no trouble forging forward with this family and their son ( with whom giuliana wants nothing to do ) , a courtesy they never even deigned to afford axel. if the disgust isn’t PALPABLE from her silence , amidst the fake laughs and talk of joint holidays , her face conveys it very clearly. ❝ i’m going to the ladies’ room , ❞ she blurts out , abruptly , tossing her cotton napkin from her lap onto the table , knowing full well that her absence likely won’t be noticed for a few minutes. her parents have never needed her to sell themselves , and her.

     with her invisibility in mind , she foregoes her plan to hide in the nearest bathroom , and chooses to make a beeline for the closest alcohol supply instead. she’s craving something that will make her FORGET her parents and their rotten attitudes , axel and how badly she wants to put an end to the space they’re giving each other , the rest of cape coral with their closed hearts and open checkbooks. if she were to describe herself as any literary character right now , it’d be the eponymous character from alice in wonderland , stuck in a technicolor nightmare without the faintest idea on how to escape. her own white rabbit finally shows up in the form of yousef , a loud ‘ MILADY ! ’ announcing his presence , and giuliana can admit without a doubt that she’s never been happier to see him. as he continues to quickly drain champagne flutes , she joins in , convinced that augmenting her blood alcohol content might just help , should she have to run into ryan atwood and his non-existent personality.

     an immeasurable amount of empty champagne flutes later , and she’s convinced this was a better decision than hiding out in the women’s room. she feels light , she feels UNBOTHERED by the so-called cape coral elite weaving around her , she can’t remember the last time she looked over at her parents’ table. aside from the slight breeze causing her to shiver every few minutes ( davina’s design is gorgeous , but frosted lace and pearl embroidery don’t do much when it comes to keeping someone warm ) , this moment feels pretty much PERFECT. a feeling she hasn’t felt , or allowed herself to feel , in quite a while. but , of course , like any ride at theme parks , what goes up must come down and before giuliana has time to align her drunken thoughts into something coherent , yousef’s blazer lands on her shoulders , and his lips on hers.

     she pushes him back with all the force left in her arms ( the alcohol has numbed out most of her strength , but personal space suddenly feels very necessary ) , her thoughts IMMEDIATELY veering to axel. he was the last person to kiss her , and she made a mental oath to keep it that way. despite her promises and pleas for space , she can’t deny that her heart’s his , and that any desecration of that cuts deep within her. especially when it comes from his best friend , from the one person she knows axel TRUSTS blindly. a dangerous mixture of anger , sadness , betrayal and sheer drunken confusion boils beneath her surface , and she’s not sure whether to scream , cry , storm off or try to find a lifeboat , in the form of lucia , sylvie , sawyer , griffin , anyone. in the midst of this emotional whirlwind , one question goes unposed in her mind : did axel see them ?

                    KEEPING HIS EYES OFF OF giuliana is proving harder than axel could have ever imagined: it’s like hazel orbs are attached to her, every moment spent gazing in another direction will inevitably end with him gazing back at her, smiling as she smiles, knowing that she isn’t completely MISERABLE. he breathes, he needs to wake up, and realize that not everything is about him. that the reason that they’re giving themselves SPACE is that so they can find out who they are when they’re apart, so they can do some growing on their own. without the complexities of … whatever they are. he makes a solemn oath to himself, to not get hung up on the fact that giuliana’s parents are around, to BE the more confident, more self-loving person he has grown to become in the last few months, to wear his true self on his sleeves, and not bend to the thoughts axel once toyed with, of putting his art aside, to don the suit his father left him, and join roy enterprises like his aunt and uncle set out for him. to BECOME the person giuliana’s parents preferred. 

no — he wouldn’t. even if it HURTS, he knows it’s not a life he’d enjoy, not one his parents would want him to live either, even if they weren’t around to see him blossom into the artist he had become. chalkboard doodles weren’t the same as the paintings he had created, some so large they could be MURALS. a lively conversation with the rockefellers gives him the tiniest boost of confidence that he’ll ride throughout the brunch, one that gives him the strength to keep wearing the earring, to talk about his tattoos openly to those who actually seem interested. and to those who do, a sentimental story about his parents they shall receive. he moves seamlessly from one conversation to another, accompanying mutual friends and family friends alike as he SMILES, and feels like he belongs in some sense, his new confidence getting its first appearance in what feels like a major league setting. laughs and jokes are created amongst the crowds, a gentle buzz from the few mimosas axel has downed sitting perfectly in his body, gentle enough to keep him warm and happy all the same. he’s finishing a glass of his own, turning around to set the flute down when he sees them, across the room.

them, as in giuliana and yousef. he’s seen them together before, goofing off in their apartment, downing beers together at parties. he had always been RELIEVED that they had gotten along when she and axel had been together. there was never tension, and while when the three of them hung out together, giuliana would sit atop axel’s lap, or they’d be walking with fingers interlaced, it never felt forced, or awkward. he had been grateful — and so now, he doesn’t want to believe what he’s seeing. her curves are half-covered by yousef’s jacket, his best friend’s eyes softly gazing down at his ex-girlfriend, and before axel can even convince himself it isn’t what it looks like, the space between their lips disappears and he instantly turns around; he can’t even stomach to see the rest. he’s entirely convinced he’s not DRUNK enough to be hallucinating, but his heart can’t force his body to look back. it doesn’t even hurt, not YET, he’s just numb. “ nice to catch up with all of you guys, excuse me, ” he says cordially but hurriedly, white as a sheet as he maneuvers his way through the crowds of people toward the entrance of the dining hall, his body taking the lead as he doesn’t even register a destination in mind except OUT and as FAR AWAY as possible. 

he keeps walking, out of the dining hall, taking him wherever his feet would carry him. away, somewhere he could bury his head in his hands and have nobody see. first instincts would have been to just go home, back to his apartment, but the picture of yousef leaning into his ex-girlfriend is BURNED in his mind, etched in the forefront of his memory, no matter how badly he wants to itch and scratch it out. brown leather-covered feet drag him too the one place he can reach on foot that feels SAFE, the art studio. absolutely nobody is around, everyone enjoying the brunch festivities — hardly anyone comes in this early on weekends, and he’s pleased to see the door has been left unlocked. he locks it behind him, and axel simply COLLAPSES on the floor, leaning up against the wall as he finally lets the tears well up in his eyes.  

he could tell himself he was being dramatic later, that she doesn’t OWE him anything, especially not after his own drunken blunder at yousef’s party. yousef. he could tell himself it was NOTHING, nothing at all, that it was just in yousef’s nature to be flirtatious and charming, but NOW ? he feels a thousand different emotions all at once, inundating his brain. he can’t process anything, he just sees a dozen colors swipe through his mind, a skipped heartbeat there, a long inhale here. 

SADNESS, of course, for seeing giuliana with somebody else. even if it was just a kiss, it was just a microcosm of everything he’d had to deal with before. a suit jacket draped over her shoulders, marking someone else’s claim on her when that used to be HIM. truthfully, it shouldn’t hurt this much — he’s stood on the sidelines as giuliana would get courted before: the vanderbilt, whoever he was, some random guys here and there. it hits differently, this time, knowing that she’d no longer come back to him eventually. that was what the space was for. but he’d prepared himself for lacrosse boy, not yousef, his BEST FRIEND. the one who he’d told everything to, the one who he’d spill everything to, the one who knew every corner of axel’s heart because it was like he’d recited every emotion like poetry to yousef, who knew how HARD axel had fallen for her, who fucking asked him about his feelings for her. axel would sound like a broken record recounting everything. he feels ANGRY, betrayed, and of course, his dramatics picture the worst possible outcome in all this, that yousef had been planting seeds of doubt in his mind, that he’d been trying to get him to play the field so he could make his own move. it’s STUPID, it’s silly, and deep down, axel knows it could never be true, but his mind is RACING at a mile a minute, and he can’t comprehend anything.

     giuliana’s BORED , to an extent she never thought she’d have to experience. it’s not that she’s a stranger to protecting her parents’ carefully curated image , through forced smiles and quotes to press envoys , but rather that these types of events were previously ones she’d navigate with axel. their INNATE ability to sense when the other needed a topic to be changed , a conversation to be cut short or a person to be avoided was unparalleled , and something giuliana had yet to find a replacement for. it’s clear that neither of her parents can currently sense her frustration and discomfort , too busy being enthralled in the connotations that come with a degree in finance and an UNMISTAKABLY impressive last name. 

     with each stolen glance at axel , she can feel herself CRAVING his presence. she can picture how easily conversation would flow were he sat at their table , with his knowledge of art and her appreciation for his. she knows how comfortable and comforted she’d be by simply being by his side , with the opportunity to grab his hand at any moment. she’s also having a hard time not picturing leading him away from prying eyes , before removing his partially open cotton shirt ( amongst other things ). with the atwood’s son ( whose name she’s already forgotten ) , all she can picture is how closely he resembles the human version of shrek. that , and a giant hourglass , a tangible proof of the time she’s WASTING listening to anecdotes about his most recent lacrosse practice , his classes and a slew of other topics she’s closen to erase from her mind , for sanity’s sake.

     despite her clear and GROWING disinterest in the conversation , none of the people she’s surrounded by — her parents , their new friends , shrek’s uncanny lookalike — seem to pick up on the hint. even as her features , in what feels like a manner very unlike giuliana ( who is usually careful to let her face show only what she wants others to pick up on ) , reveal how incredibly LONELY she’s feeling. clemonte blood flows through her , and yet , it’s surrounded by family that she most often feels the sting of solitude. like a swan amongst ducklings , she’s never aligned with her families values , traditions and affinity for mind games. just like they have yet to understand her need for candor and sporadic genuine affection. another glance at axel , and she thinks back to how WELCOME his parents made her feel in their home , how loving they both were to a child who wasn’t theirs ( so much so that she envied him before they essentially became family to her too ). 

     she never allowed herself to cry when they passed , a voice deep down within her telling her that this wasn’t her grief to feel. almost like she’d steal something from axel if she dared to FEEL even a modicum of her own emotions. after all , he’d lost his parents , she’d lost her boyfriend’s parents. everyone in their right mind would agree that his loss trumped hers , a million times over. anyone who somehow had direct access to her thoughts , however , would see that the loss cut DEEP for her too , abruptly denying her the novel experience of feeling true parental love for a second longer. it’s a loss she carries daily ( though she’s never really spoken of it , and likely never will ) , and one she feels most in these moments , when her own mother can’t understand the meaning behind her pleading eyes. 

                   EVEN STANDING ON OPPOSITE ENDS of the room, axel can tell that giuliana isn’t exactly having a ball. her eyes are disengaged, her arms are crossed, her posture is slightly less than composed. he KNOWS her, perhaps better than he knows himself. her honest words are appreciated, and he can see the manifestation of the tension she had mentioned. how she said she didn’t like where she stood, how things between her and her parents weren’t all sweet. his heart wants to bound over to her, to slip his fingers through hers, to jump into conversation and steer it where he knows she’ll be comfortable. INSTINCT tells him it’s not a good idea, that he needs to get used to this: being apart. it would only hurt them BOTH if he had broken the soft contract they had laid out. that, and of course, jumping into conversation with her parents around would be akin to jumping into shark-infested waters with an open wound. 

‘ say, kid, are you seeing anyone these days ? ’ the question catches him OFF-GUARD, not only because he’s been zoning in and out of the conversation, but because the last thing he’d expect from neels’ father is a question about his LOVE life. not that it’s out of place — he’s known the rockefellers since he was little, who would tease and joke and make fun of him as if axel were one of his own, sometimes. it made him feel PART of something again: when his parents passed, axel had trouble finding himself, where he FIT in. “ huh ? OH — um, no, not really, ” he lies, but it flows naturally, like he’s trying to convince himself, too. after all, the past few months with giuliana have been covert: he’s had to lie about their situation before. “ school and art have really taken a toll on me this semester. i’ve been trying to finalize all my paperwork and travel documents for my fellowship in paris this summer, ” he adds quickly, wanting to steer the conversation away from his STAGNATED love life. moreover, it almost feels liberating admitting that fact to someone who he knows won’t JUDGE him, but rather congratulate him.

[ CLOSED STARTER ] for @axelroy​ !

       without a doubt, axel has always been one of lucia’s FAVORITE people. she truly can’t think of a single moment in her life where she didn’t have axel in it. the two grew up together, BONDED over secrets and feelings they felt they couldn’t share with anyone else in that moment. maybe it was the reason she found it so easy to see the gloomy look shadowing his face despite a crowd between them. lucia knows exactly who axel’s gaze is falling on to and the PROTECTIVE instinct to comfort and care immediately kick in. she studies him for a bit longer, wondering if the expression on his face will pass and when it doesn’t, lucia takes the opportunity to walk over to him.

       lucia has a genuine smile on her face when she takes a seat beside axel, nudging him gently so his ATTENTION is on her. “penny for your thoughts?” she asks softly, her smile turning slightly sad that gives it away she knows exactly what he was doing. lucia doesn’t want to push or pry, but she also doesn’t want to leave him with his thoughts when he looks like a kicked puppy. “did anyone compliment you on how stylish your earring is? a real TRENDSETTER. maybe tell yousef to join the trend too. don’t think he could pull it off like you.”

                    HE ISN’T QUITE IN THE MOOD for cornhole and ring toss, but he doesn’t necessarily want to go back to the apartment right now, not after he’d excused himself early from brunch, the glares and glances and happenings all a little too much for axel’s sober STATE. and that’s the thing, too — he’d made mistakes, a dozen of them, the last time he had resorted to substances to block things out. this weekend, he had promised himself to at least try to keep in CONTROL, even after what seemed like a thorough bombardment of axel’s mental state. 

     giuliana’s never really been one to RETHINK a decision , the amount of thought she puts into her every move and every word usually enough to secure an outcome she’s comfortable with long-term. but , it seems most of the bigger , more life-altering , axel-related choices she’s made have recently given her pause. and while the larger ramifications of their breakup are far too COMPLICATED for her to think through over brunch ( and surrounded by her two parents , in a full battle of status with another couple whilst daintily snacking on fruit and pastries ) , she’s now starting to wonder if their decision to give each other space is one she’s happy continuing to move forward with. 

     it gets even HARDER to believe their decision is the right one once she finally spots him amongst the sea of tables at cape coral’s brunch , sat with the institution’s very own founder. the slightly unbuttoned shirt , the peeking of the tattoos , the earring — part of giuliana can’t help but feel like he’s trying to LURE something out of her. it almost works for a second , as her mind starts drifting away and picturing what things would’ve been like were they still together. the mental picture isn’t hard to paint ( especially with the few mimosas she’s had to make her parents just bearable enough ) : his hand draped across her waist , guiding her between brunch tables , both of them stopping every other minute to greet another guest. it all feels like a haunting replica of their years together , and a dangerous path to go down , given the SPACE she mentioned would be good for the two of them to give each other.

     she’s pulled out of her daze by her mother who , between forkfuls of fruit , is suddenly attempting ( in a very UNCONCEALED manner ) to set her up with the school’s lacrosse captain by singing her praises to the boy’s parents. ❝ hey , mom ? ❞ she whispers , once the topic of the other’s finance major is broached ( a major she knows her parents lust after when thinking of her and her sibling’s future partners ) , ❝ could we maybe focus on this charity brunch the rockefellers are hosting for the school that recently collapsed ? instead of turning it into some sort of weird SPEED-DATING convention for me. this whole thing feels a little inappropriate. ❞ though she’s not usually one to stand up against matteo and alix clemonte , their authority over her almost infamous , her nerves can’t help but be stuck when they dare to venture into the territory of her love life. especially when the aftermath of their involvement is currently so tangible , so raw. a short standoff ( in the form of icy eye contact ) is shared between mother and daughter for an instant , before both reach for their flutes of mimosa ; TALKING has never been a clemonte staple. passive-aggressive silence , however ? as this point , it might as well be considered a family tradition.

                     THIS WOULD HAVE BEEN THE time where axel wouldn’t have been able to stop staring. to admire the way her dress hugs her curves, how her shiny black hair frames her face — and this time, allows her cheekbones to see the light and shine. even longer ago, it would have been the time where his hand would find the small of her back, trying to COMFORT her through the hours of smalltalk they would perform together, riffing off each others’ lives like they were a married couple already. this feels like a galaxy away from THAT reality, and it’s increasingly harder to push memories of her from his mind. the only thing harder to forget is giuliana’s parents.

how they talk and laugh and schmooze every other parent at cape coral, how axel’s own parents used to be HERE, too. how he’d be able to fall back on them if he got mentally exhausted — there was only so much about private equity and finance he could handle in a day. but seeing giuliana’s parents expands the pin-sized hole in axel’s heart that had almost healed — ALMOST. with the passage of time and his own self-reflection, axel had started to care less and less about the opinions of those who didn’t give a damn about him: giuliana’s parents included. it’s why their situation is so complex, because GOD, he’d never make giuliana choose. he’d never want her to choose him over her own FAMILY, not when she still has them. not when he knows how much they meant to her before, even if she has admitted bits and pieces about how they are now. as much as it stings, as much as it pains him to know that reason one and two for why axel and giuliana’s relationship had ended PREMATURELY are standing at the other side of the room, he can’t bring himself to say anything. because even after all these years, they’re still her parents. 

he tries not to NOTICE that they’re talking with the atwoods, some far too picture-perfect family that has, coincidentally a picture-perfect son, a boy who is NOT set off to leave for an art fellowship in paris for the summer, who feels the needs for a trip anytime he feels less-than-inspired to pick up a paintbrush, who doesn’t want to follow in the footsteps of his family. it’s strange, how differently axel feels about his late parents to his aunt and uncle — though their treatments of him could not be polar opposite. FAMILY is everything — but only to those who believe the same, unconditionally. his aunt and uncle do not fall under that category. 

                     THEY’RE SUPPOSED TO BE GIVING each other space. it’s what they had agreed on, sat two feet apart on giuliana’s bed after sleeping next to her. it’s a step … somewhere. maybe not FORWARD, because it certainly doesn’t feel easier standing on opposite sides of a room not able to speak to her, not even text her. it feels EMPTY, knowing that they’re another step removed from each others’ lives, and it’s strange, because he felt like they were getting somewhere. TALKING, at least — about her parents, about their feelings, and yet they had come to the conclusion that SPACE was the answer. 

it’s only been a week or two, and it had been DIFFICULT. to not want to call her at night, wanting to talk through his day with someone. to not steal glances at her across lecture rooms and hallways — because SPACE didn’t just mean not being able to lay intertwined in each others’ limbs anymore, it meant everything. ultimately, axel reminds himself not to be SELFISH, that she needs time to figure out her relationship with her parents, to understand who she is, if not just a puppet with her last name stamped across her forehead. and to be honest, the space has given axel his own time to reflect. on how he reacts with the parents who have made their appearances at the festival — to those he likes, and those who still look down on him without the slightest MODICUM of respect ( perhaps it’s the earring ). it grounds him, it makes him think about the person he not only wants to PRESENT himself as, but the person who he wants to BE. 

          being with axel tugs at neels’s seams .  currently ,  he’s  pasted  together  with  school  glue  that’s  not  quite  dry  yet .  immediately  after  the  break  up ,  he’d  pulled  himself  together  in  hurried ,  rushed  movements  —-  not  unlike  any  and  all  juvenile  art  projects  he’d  done  in  school .  but  like  those  art  projects ,  neels’s  lacklustre  craftsmanship  that  holds  his  emotions  at  bay  was  far  past  insubstantial .  axel’s  face  reminds  him  of  the  time  he’d  spent  with  him  and  gi  —-  with  ophelia  by  his  side ,  always .  it  was  an  adjustment ,  being  with  him .  without  her ,  and  simultaneously  without  even  the  prospect  of  seeing  her  later  on .  he  sinks  into  axel’s  couch ,  head  leaned  back  so  far  that  the  top  of  it  makes  contact  with  the  wall  behind  him .  everything  axel  says  to  reassure  him  is  absorbed ,  but  not  stowed  away  for  later  —-  when  he  knows  he’ll  really  need  it .  “  she’s  been  drunk  a  thousand  times  before .  she  never  said  shit  like  that .  ”  he  shakes  his  head  slowly ,  staring  up  at  the  ceiling .  “  even  when  she  was  really  on  one ,  you  know ?  you  know  how  she  gets .  ”  pathetic .  reminiscing  about  his  ex  girlfriend  tearing  him  a  new  asshole  over  something  trivial .  he’d  hit  a  brand  new  low  in  his  subconscious  need  for  negative  attention .  but  was  it  so  subconscious  if  he  could  feel  it  happening ?  he’s  making  his  own  brain  hurt . “  she  never  said  anything  that  fucked  up .  ” he’s  tired .  he’s  emotional .  he’s  hungover ,  and  the  shadows  on  the  ceiling  are  starting  to  take  the  shape  of  one  blonde  demoness .  axel’s  mention  of  wine  is  the  open  sesame  to  the  few  positive  emotions  left  in  the  barren  wasteland  that  was  his  inner  feelings . the  sigh  he  lets  out  is  massive ,  containing  every  bit  of  air  in  his  body.  “  whatever’s  closest  and  will  take  less  time  to  get  down  my  fucking  throat .  ”  he  says ,  eyes  connecting  with  axel’s  as  a  small  smile  blooms  on  his  face ,  one  that’s  meant  to  be reassuring . 

     after months of avoidance , and with her inability to let herself be VULNERABLE and honest , their conversation the night before felt like a real step forward ( though , perhaps giuliana was a tad too honest , in parts ). she carried the victorious feeling of it through her night and into her morning , the idea of finally interacting in a more open manner pushing her forward. but , with axel’s admittance that he remembers nothing , it feels like a giant ‘ back to square one ’ sign is being used to slap her VIOLENTLY across her face. even as their fingers slowly interlace , she mentally tries to play catch-up , to figure out what her stance and attitude should be. after all , as far as he’s concerned , nothing has been exchanged and they’re both still the same people they were before yousef’s party ( aside from the change in location for their sleepover ). ❝ you were pretty out of it , ❞ she teases , a grin shyly tugging at the corners of her mouth ( even using humor feels like walking on eggshells right now ) , ❝ you were mostly coherent for a while , and then post-shower your head hit that pillow and it was GAME OVER. i’m pretty sure i even heard you snore. like a broken lawnmower , actually. ❞ a slight bout of laughter escapes her and , for a split second , things almost feel like them again , like old axel and giuliana. the thought alone feels like a stake to her heart. as does having to recollect her night , making sure to omit the only parts she truly cares about. ❝ i did ! no surprise here , but i ended up spending most of my night with the life of the party herself , miss lu reyes , who made me drink a lot more than i should’ve. pretty sure than explains the INTERESTING drawings i ended up finding all over my dress and body when we got back here , ❞ she recounts , a smile plastered painfully across her face as she — in true giuliana clemonte fashion — forces herself to continue her charade , rather than blurt out that she remembers much more than he does. she could easily fill him in , let him know how she feels and how badly last night made her realize that they’re better together. instead , she sticks to her guns , lying through her teeth as she keeps her fingers intertwined with his.

                      GUT-WRENCHED IS AN UNDERSTATEMENT. finding control over himself ( his dreams, his aspirations, his hobbies ) had been a journey and half in his twenty-one years of age. it took excruciating self-reflection, a couple of masterpieces he could say he was truly PROUD of, and numerous trips to his parents’ grave to be able to confidently say he liked where his path was leading him — even if it meant turning his back on family, the one constant in the first chapter of his life. CONTROL is not something he’s finding now: almost feeling giuliana’s trust slip away, just as the memories from the previous night had escaped him. he DESPERATELY wants to hold on, but he isn’t sure if he can say anything to salvage the sinking feeling in his stomach. “ i know — i’m sorry. ” her words are teasing, but he can’t help but respond in immense apologetic form. but she mentions the shower, the snores, the LITTLE things she used to find adorable — now he’s not as sure they still do. he allows himself a chuckle, feeling an ounce lighter than he had a moment ago. “ i swear you’re allowed to wake me up and like … force me to blow my nose or SOMETHING ! ” he cries, shaking his head. if there’s one thing axel roy-dreyfus hates more than losing control, its being a NUISANCE. especially to giuliana. 

AXEL: Hi Ophelia, it’s Axel!

AXEL: My driver has brought me around to the north side of central park, do you want to meet there?