eclatant starters !

3:48 AM. The clock glowed green as Arabella sat up in bed, breathing deeply and wiping the tears she had shed unconsciously from her cheeks. She had barely closed her eyes for fifteen minutes when her own dreams startled her awake. Although she had never been a stranger to nights like this, they’d been occurring more and more frequently since Aiden’s death. It all just struck too close to home, and as more incidents were reported, Bella’s unease continued to worsen. Her insomnia had outgrown the strength of her medications at this point. She’d probably gotten ten hours total of real rest in the previous week, and it showed. Her thoughts were always drifting and jumbled, she could hardly hold a conversation, even her thick framed glasses couldn’t disguise the dark shadows under her eyes anymore. 

Pushing the covers back, Arabella quickly tugged an oversized sweatshirt over her shaking frame and stepped into slippers. She grabbed a lighter and a small joint from her nightstand before exiting her apartment, taking the stairs down. The chilly air helped shock her mind into silence, goosebumps on bare legs as she settled on a bench just outside of the building. Arabella tucked her legs beneath her, lighting up and taking a deep breath. Alone on the sidewalk at nearly 4 am probably isn’t the safest place for a young woman, and her brother would probably be pissed if he knew this had become a nightly habit, but she didn’t consider the consequences. She just needed to not feel so trapped - in her apartment and in her head. 

@eclatantstart​

It was late. Ethan had just left the nursing home visiting his father and his mind felt like a bunch of broken puzzle pieces. After hearing about what happened during the ball, Ethan only felt more so than ever that his family was right. His father mentioned that the atmosphere felt different, heavier and Ethan felt the same. He often hated how intuned his father was to things, even though his mind wasn’t completely there. If anything he made him seem more clairvoyant. There wasn’t life or responsibilities to hold him back. Just listening, feeling, seeing. 

Cordelia was standing near the stage, waiting to step up and accept the gift for her children. There was a stoic expression on her face, and she downed the vodka in her glass. Being in a room full of people so soon after Aiden’s death was twisting up her insides, making her feel like she was going to throw up. What if his murderer was among them? Her paranoia was worsening with each passing day, and she had no idea who she could trust anymore. She looked up at the huge clock on the wall – it was about to strike twelve. As she lifted the hem of her dress to step onto the stage, someone came over to her and whispered in her ear. Andrew was dead. No, this couldn’t be true. No, no, no. She pulled out her phone to try and call him, but there was no answer. She pushed people aside, searching for Joelle. When she saw her on the phone with someone, she locked eyes with her, and the look on her face said it all. 

“This can’t be happening,” she said, the room now spinning as she struggled for air. The glass in her hand fell to the floor, smashing into tiny pieces around her feet. She reached out, grabbing the person nearest to her to steady herself. Her fingertips dug into the flash of their arm, and she breathed in and out, deep and slow, trying to compose herself.

“This time of year is all about giving. I get it.” Philip’s mask sits at the top of his head, taking no caution of the people around him. “But a scholarship fund for Aiden’s daughters? Surely Jack and Roger can’t have consumed so much eggnog they’ve forgotten how to funnel money…”

“All I am saying is these shoes were NOT made for walking. Nancy Sinatra lied.” Ayanna brought her glass to her lips, glad she was convinced to come to the city hall event. It was a nice little distraction that she didn’t even know she needed until now. “But you look amazing as always.”