#c. jules

“what do you mean? i’ve literally been staring at your face for the past three hours.” jules has been studying for the exam for the course she is taking, wishing to add another advanced certificate to her already impressive profolio. sometimes people ask her what’s the point of still working so hard when she already has a stable job working for some of the most successful celebrities, but she gets bored too easily when she feels stagnant. she studies vegas’ face again, before her eyes return to her notes and she writes down the colour combination she is most pleased of and the outfits that she thinks will match this look. when she is done, she looks up again at vegas, before she stands up and presses a kiss on top of her head. “thanks for being my model this time. i’ll make sure to repay you with kisses and good food — order whatever you want, desserts included.” maybe she shouldn’t make such offers when vegas is known to have refined tastebuds, partly from ara’s spoiling. moreover, rent is due next week and she has been overspending lately, but it is the least she can do after keeping her hyperactive girlfriend on the same seat for the past hours. it must be no easy feat. “just remember that my rent is due next week and if i get kicked out by the landlord for being too broke, i’m taking your couch and two-thirds of your wardrobe.”

she has drunk too much, he’s been sitting too close and damn this lighting for messing with her head. “no one’s ever said cute is bad.” she says before she sighs, wishing that she can stop talking altogether. but it is all gone now, her inebriated self is never her most reliable self and hell, she’s never that reliable to begin with. a spoilt princess is what her brother loves to call her and even if it is said with affection, there is some truth to it. her eyes narrow when he approaches and looks at her with that teasing smile — he is too close. how infuriating. “well, now you know.” she responds simply, ignoring the way her cheeks flush and hoping that he won’t notice either. “and i never said you’re evil. i just don’t want you to pass out from overworking because i’m a good roommate, okay?”

it is another night of getting drunk and forgetting every thing that are her mind — before her eyes find theirs and she is undone all over again. now they are in the corridor away from the chattering crowd and deafening music, frantic hands roaming over places where she promised they wouldn’t. it is a treacherous slope, one mistake and they would be back to their cycle of toxicity, the highest of highs before everything crashes again. anything but what she needs in her chaotic life right now but she can never quiet her heart’s dissent. not with this much alcohol in her system, not when the warmth of their body feels this familiar — almost safe but never quite. “no, no, no…” she musters the courage to pull away, her hands weak against their chest. she can still feel their breath on her lips, their bodies close but not enough. her last scrap of self control before it all slips away and they’ll wake up in the same bed with the same regrets. “ — we’ve got to stop doing this.”

“i was just walking by and minding my business. your phone screen just happens to be very bright, love.” she gives him a strained smile as she excuses herself without shame. “why the third instead of the first?” does he have other friends she doesn’t know about? or does he mean himself and his hypothetical lover? she doesn’t know the reason, but the notion alone sends an unsettling feeling to her chest. it has been lingering for some time now, but she refuses to address. she cannot address it. “are you saying you’re refusing to stay forever alone so that you can be my fake boyfriend everywhere? i thought it’s forever, baby.” she gives a dramatic pout, obviously joking before she flops onto the sofa next to him. she tries to hold back her curiosity, but she cannot last longer than five seconds. “... have you started seeing someone?” her lips flatten in a tight line. “how can you even meet people when you’re working 24/7?”

she doesn’t know how they managed to find her. she’s in another country under an altered name, for fuck’s sake. some production company that wants to adapt her father’s story into an entertaining documentary for the world to see. maybe some people chose to do it for the money, maybe others said yes to bring awareness, but jules is not one of those people that wants to recall her worst memories in front of a million pairs of eyes. she was only six when it happened, for crying out loud. it explains her terrible mood, both the unfortunate news, the announcement that she’s going to work with one of the agency’s rudest celebrities for the next three months and the growing suspicion that her partner might be cheating on her. “why are you cursing at me? is it a crime to need some personal space these days?” maybe she is overreacting. maybe he doesn’t deserve it. she looks at the emptied bottles of soju scattered over the coffee table — okay, perhaps she can’t blame him for being worried. she wipes the ruined mascara off her cheeks, sighing into her palms. the apology waits on the edge of her tongue. “just let me rot like this for a night. you know i’ll be fine in the morning.” 

the room is cleared now that the shoot’s ended and the stylists have left. still, jules is here reapplying makeup for the celebrity who is about to go. even though she has always been fascinated by makeup and beauty, she cannot imagine the pressure of having to stay in their perfect shape 24/7 and be scrutinised for her looks ceaselessly. she remembers nodding to the other’s rants on the incidents of the day — they have grown close over the months they’ve worked together — before she pauses in the middle of recolouring the tinted lip. “me?” a finger points at herself. “... you’re asking me out on a date?” she tries to reconfirm what she thought she heard, absolutely baffled — is she so tired that she’s hallucinating? immediately, she looks around the room to make sure their manager isn’t here. come on now, this cannot be happening. there is no chance on earth. they are them and she’s just a nobody. “oh dear, you must be really hungry, aren’t you?” it’d explain how they mixed up the words, or maybe they’re rehearsing something and she’s only made an honest mistake?

“what are you talking about?” jules asks, pretending to be oblivious. it is a pattern she can well recognise: get intrigued by a stranger, make people fall then withdraw when the intimacy becomes too suffocating. she can feel it in her bones, the same unsettling feeling that arises whenever the other speaks of grand plans about the future, one that involves her in the picture. it is too much responsibility. she is hiding too much. it is when the guilt comes in and tells her things that are not real, but cannot sound more convincing in her head. besides, october always puts her on edge and she probably hasn’t been the best company to keep around as of late. she rubs her eyes and buries her face with her hands and a sigh falls off. “i’ve just been really busy with work, that’s all.”

she shakes her head and her tears glisten in the soft, glowing light of her apartment. “shut up — just shut up.” it has occurred to jules before that she doesn’t has the best taste in romantic partners. must be why they all end in fucking disasters. the truth has never been gentle or kind, now more lies are spilling out of their mouth. like it was real, it meant something. even now, her voice is weaker than she wants it. she closes her eyes, wishing she can hit end and reset and this will all be over. they can be in love again. even if it was just a pretty lie, at least she was oblivious. at least she was happy. “ — you’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” if they had no problem with doing this to her, why would her words mean anything now?