The Feeling of Forever

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The Feeling of Forever Page 17

by Jamie Howard


  “Gav, are you—”

  “C’mon.” He slid past me and through the door. “It’s only getting later.”

  He made it to the elevator by the time I’d managed to go half that distance. The whole thing was slow going—me on my sticks, traffic in the car, the logjam of people on the blue carpet outside the gala. Once we’d made it through the front door about thirty minutes and a million pictures later, I almost reconsidered my decision to abandon my wheelchair.

  As much as I loved being up on my feet and the fact that I could look people in the eye rather than have a stare down with their crotch, my arms were already tiring and the swarming mass of people was beyond daunting.

  Gavin sidled a little closer. “Let’s get to our table and then we can worry about finding Jules.”

  “Yeah.” I shifted my hands, my palms sweaty. “Good plan.”

  I craned my neck, keeping my eyes peeled for Juliet, but we made it to the table without even a glimpse of her. Damn, where was she?

  As eager as I was to find her, the sight of my chair almost made me weep. I slumped into it with a sigh of relief, shaking my arms out. Marge hadn’t been kidding when she said it’d take some time to get used to the prolonged use of my crutches.

  Ben stared moodily into his glass of water from across the table. “It’s about time you showed up.”

  “Don’t mind him,” Ian practically shouted, his fingers threaded through Bianca’s on top of the table cloth. “He’s just pissy that he decided to go stag tonight.”

  “What?” Gavin immediately reached for the bread basket, pulling out a roll and ripping it in half. Around the chunk he stuffed into his mouth, he said, “Have you not looked around you? This is the ideal place to fly solo. The only thing I’m missing at the moment is a drink. And maybe some pie, but I’ll settle for the drink right now.”

  I caught sight of a red-headed server, a tray held high above her hair. I raised a hand, waving her over. She bent down so I could hear her, but not by much. She was a tiny little thing.

  “Can I get you something?” she asked.

  “I’ll take a beer, whatever you have on tap.” I prodded Gavin in the arm. “You want a beer or are you going straight for the hard stuff?”

  His grin fell off his face the second he turned around, his face going so pasty white I wasn’t sure whether he was going to pass out or throw up. He stared right over my shoulder, gaping.

  I followed the direction of his incredulous stare, but other than the girl waiting patiently for our drink order, I wasn’t seeing anything all that out of the ordinary. Although, her face looked pretty pale as well.

  I snapped my fingers in front of his face. “Earth to Gavin. Are you gonna tell us what you want to drink, or are we just supposed to guess?”

  “Uh, guys? Too late.” Bianca shrugged. “She’s gone.”

  I glanced back over my shoulder and sure enough, she’d disappeared. “Well, I guess you’ll have to wait—” I turned back to Gavin and found nothing but his empty chair. “Alrighty then.” I huffed out a breath. “Is there some kind of magic disappearing theme going on here that I wasn’t made aware of?”

  Ian laughed into his drink. “I think it’s just you, man.”

  Ben quirked an eyebrow at me, jutting out his chin. “Isn’t that Juliet’s assistant?”

  I whipped around so fast I nearly knocked my chair over. “Ally!” I waved my hand through the air.

  Her eyes squinted as she followed the sound of my voice, and they tightened a bit at the corners when she saw it was me. This girl had never been my biggest fan, but hell if I knew why. Her black dress swished around her knees as she weaved her way toward me, quickly running a hand over her hair. She looked a bit rough around the edges, but running something this size was probably harder than I could even imagine.

  “Felix. We’re so glad you could make it.” She glanced up at the rest of the table. “And thank you, all of you, for your generous donation.”

  “Anytime.” Ben nodded.

  “Ally, have you seen Juliet? I’d really like to speak with her.”

  She pinched her lips together, her gaze darting from me to her tablet, to somewhere a few feet over my head. “She . . . left.”

  “She left her own event?”

  “I’m as surprised as you are, and I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t see it with my own eyes.” She hesitated, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. “She snuck out the side door with Erik.” Her hand landed on my shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  Chapter 34: Juliet

  A groan climbed up my throat, getting stuck halfway up. I tried to blink my eyes open, but it was like they were cemented shut. My brain was a fuzzy, confused mess, and it took a good long ten seconds for the thought that was trying to push through the fog to actually make sense—I was going to be sick.

  The mattress squeaked underneath as I threw myself to the edge. But I hadn’t counted on my hands being tied together, so my shoulder bounced off the wood floor as my stomach heaved. Bile and the leftovers from my flute of champagne splattered against the floor, my entire body shaking with the effort.

  “Making a mess already.” A snort. “No surprise there.”

  I squinted through the dingy apartment, my gaze gliding over the peeling paint, around the tiny, almost furniture-less room, and landing on the single metal chair that was planted in front of my threadbare mattress.

  The lone lamp sitting directly on the floor cast a shadow across the person’s face, but it was so familiar, so . . .

  “Ally?” I croaked. I used my palms to push myself up, nearly losing my balance since my ankles were bound together too. “What’s going on? What’s happening?”

  “Oh, that’s rich.” She clapped her hands together. “All this time and you’re still too self-centered to see anything beyond your petty little problems.”

  A headache throbbed in my temples, making it nearly impossible to focus on what she was saying. “It was you? The entire time?”

  She smirked. “Well, not the entire time. The first time around, that was all him.” She swatted her hand through the air like she was shooing away a fly. “But right about the time he came up for parole I had this thought, this epiphany. Who better to help me than someone who was already more than happy to take you down on his own?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to fight through the pain that was ripping through my body. And it wasn’t just physical pain; the emotional aspect of it was just as unbearable. I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream, I wanted to fall apart. But she didn’t get to see that. Not ever again. “The cameras?”

  “Oh, all of it—the cameras in your apartment, the stunt at Wally’s, your location.”

  “But why?” I twisted my wrists back and forth, but there was barely any give. The rope dug into my skin—rough, harsh, biting.

  “Why?” She leapt up from her chair, striding across the room and grabbing my chin roughly in her hand. Fingernails scraped my skin. “Because you stole my life!” She thrust me back, straightening and twisting her head to the side. She took a deep breath in and when she opened her eyes again she was smiling. “We’re the same person, you know.”

  I used my heels to scoot across the mattress until my back was pressed into the wall. “We are?”

  “Mhmm,” she hummed under her breath. “The first few auditions, everyone commented on it. So many of the casting directors thought we were related, twins even.” Her fingers clenched into a fist. “And every single time they chose you.” The moment passed and that happy expression took over her face again. “It wasn’t always like that. Before I met you, I was going to become a star. Everyone thought so. It was the only reason my parents kept agreeing to drive me into the city.”

  I frowned, my forehead scrunching together. I tried scanning around me for a weapon, anything I could use to overpower her, but the whole room swam like the air was made of liquid. “But you quit.”

  “I didn’t have a choice!” She blew out a breath, insta
ntly calming. “There wasn’t any room for me when you were there. You were the next big thing and I was . . . nothing. And then you offered me a job.” She laughed, bending over at the middle.

  “So why did you take it?”

  “It was either that or join the family business. And really, who wants to serve coffee for a living?”

  I fought through the cobwebs clinging to my brain, trying to put together a plan. But with my hands and feet bound, there wasn’t a whole hell of a lot I could do. The best thing I could come up with was to stay calm and keep her talking. “Are you going to kill me then? Is that the plan?”

  She tsked at me. “Don’t be overanxious, Jules. We’ll get there. But first”—she held up a finger—“I want you to really understand just how much I’ve taken from you. You destroyed my life and I just had to repay the favor.” She strode across the room, spinning a TV around to face me. The screen crackled as it came to life, the picture blinking. “Let’s start with Fox. See anything?”

  I watched a newscaster opine about the pros and cons of sunblock, the ticker scrolling information about a break-in in Brooklyn, a three car pile-up on the bridge, a win for the New Jersey Devils.

  “All right, let’s try NBC.” She switched the channel. “Nothing? How about CBS?” She tapped a finger against her lips. “Nothing, nothing, and more nothing.” She spun back around to face me. “Three days. I’ve kept you hopped up on drugs for three days and no one even knows you’re missing. No one cares.”

  “My parents—”

  “Oh yeah, they called.” My phone appeared in her hand, dragged up from her back pocket. “I texted them back and told them you were off to another audition. I even made sure to make an appearance at the ‘audition’ so the paparazzi could get a shot of me.”

  The chair screeched as she sat back down in it, crossing her legs. “Felix hasn’t called, obviously. How could he when he doesn’t have your number?” She scrunched up her nose. “And really, why would he want to when you snuck out of your own fundraiser with your ex-boyfriend? If that isn’t enough to burst the love bubble, I don’t know what is.”

  Tears pricked my eyes, burning before they slipped quietly down my cheeks. I didn’t want her to see it, but it hurt—the fact that I’d disappeared and no one knew, that Felix bought into her carefully crafted lies, that there was a good chance I could die in this room and it’d be weeks, months before anyone found out. “If acting mattered that much to you, then why didn’t you ever say anything?”

  “Why didn’t you ever offer? You were supposed to be my friend. You just waltzed in here like the world belonged to you and you didn’t even really want it.”

  I licked my lips. “It’s not too late, you know. Just let me go and I’ll make a few calls, I—”

  “I don’t need your help.” She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, fingers steepled together. “I’m going to get everything I ever wanted. And I’m going to let you watch it burn down around you before I erase you completely.”

  There was more I wanted to say, words that were desperately pressing against my closed lips, trying to escape. But I forced them back, swallowing them down. I used my shoulder to wipe my wet cheeks, the beaded strips across my dress rough against my skin.

  “With Felix out of the picture, it makes my life easier. I’ll start going to my own auditions, turn down whatever ones come your way while still making sure to pop out into public every now and then as ‘Juliet.’” She was back on her feet, striding across the room to a small blue bag that rested against the old radiator. Rustling through it, she pulled out a pouch, unzipping it as she rested it against the windowsill. She plucked out a vial and a syringe. “I’ll keep feeding lies to your parents about your busy schedule, using your credit card to cover my tracks. Slowly but surely, Juliet St. Clair will just disappear.” She depressed the plunger and a thin stream of clear liquid squirted into the air. In another breath she was kneeling on the mattress in front of me, her forearm pressed against my collarbone. “And the best part?” A sharp prick pierced my neck. Her lips brushed my ear as she taunted me by whispering, “No one will even miss you.”

  Chapter 35: Felix

  Ben’s blue door blocked the way in front of us, but neither Gavin nor I could inspire enough enthusiasm to lift a hand and knock.

  I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Remind me why we’re not meeting at The Blackbird again?”

  He flicked his hand through the air. “Some party or something.” He scuffed one foot forward against the carpet. “We should probably just go in and get it over with.”

  I held back my groan. “Maybe we could just say we forgot.”

  “Right, we just happened to miss the four alerts that popped up on our phones today.”

  “So . . . something came up.”

  Gavin leaned his shoulder against the wall, giving me “the look.” I’d gotten it at least three times a day, every day since Jules’s fundraiser. Which was seven times more than I wanted to see it. My brain was already predicting his comment by the time he managed to spit it out. “Like you finally decided you want to talk about Jules?”

  “Sure, we can do that.” My lips curved up but it wasn’t even close to a smile. “Just as long as you want to tell me what the hell happened with that cater-waiter who flipped you out so much.”

  He straightened off the wall, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Right, well—”

  The door flew open, revealing a mildly annoyed Ben. “You know we can hear you, right?”

  “Hear what, boss?” Gavin smirked, sauntering past him. “We just got here.”

  I shrugged and wheeled into Ben’s apartment. “You must be hearing things.” I hefted myself onto the couch, leaving an empty cushion between myself and Ian. That stupid cushion shouldn’t have meant anything, that beige strip of fabric shouldn’t have conjured up a whole maelstrom of memories, and yet I was practically drowning in them. My mind catapulted me back to those early days with Juliet, back when the idea of her and me was nothing more than an unimaginable fantasy.

  An ache pierced through me, swift and fierce like someone’d chucked a javelin straight through my ribcage. I’d lived the fantasy, wallowed in it, and I was having a hell of a time readjusting to reality.

  My gaze drifted back to Ben. His lips were moving, hands gesturing in the air. I forced myself to tune back in. “—Thinking another tour to kick off next year. Three continents, three months. We can release another single or two in the next couple months to keep up the buzz, and then a full album by the end of the year. What do you think?”

  Gavin rolled a tennis ball between his fingers. God knew where he scrounged it up from. “I’m up for whatever.” He tossed the ball to me. “You up for it, Felix?”

  I rubbed my thumb along the scratchy green felt. “I don’t see any reason why not.”

  “Really? None?” Gavin prodded.

  “Nope. Not a single one.” As much as I tried, I couldn’t keep out the thread of bitterness that weaved through my words.

  “Ian?” Ben asked.

  He shook his head, slumping back into the couch. “You’re going to make me be that guy, aren’t you?”

  “And which guy is that?” Ben frowned at him.

  “The whipped one,” Gavin chimed in.

  Ian pointed his middle finger in Gavin’s direction, but gave his answer to Ben. “It shouldn’t be a problem, but I still want to run it by Bianca.”

  “Fine.” He propped his elbows on his knees. “I can get you some more concrete dates if that’ll help.”

  “That’d be good.”

  From the depths of my pocket, my phone started ringing so I fished it out. Unknown appeared on the front screen, and I frowned at it. I had a strict policy to never answer unknown numbers. There was no telling what weirdo might be on the other hand.

  My finger hovered over the “ignore” button.

  A tiny voice inside my head poked at the sore sp
ot over my heart, threatening to blow apart the cover I’d neatly arranged over the wreckage. You never know, it could be Juliet calling.

  And just like that, I answered it. “Hello?”

  “Is t-this Felix?”

  “It is. Who is this?”

  “It’s Elle.” She coughed. “J-Juliet’s s-s-sister.”

  A whole war of emotions went to battle inside me. “Is she all right? Is something wrong?” All three of the guys perked up, their attention riveted on my conversation.

  “So she-she’s not w-with you?” Her voice drooped.

  I ran my tongue out over my dry lips. “I haven’t seen her since New Year’s. She had already left the fundraiser by the time I got there.”

  “Left?” The line crackled like she was shifting the phone to a more comfortable position. “She wouldn’t have l-left.”

  “Well, I have it on pretty good authority that she bailed about halfway through with her ex.”

  “Erik? N-n-n-o—” A frustrated breath hissed through her teeth. “Look at the p-p-pictures. He left alone.”

  I shifted on the couch, massaging the back of my neck with my hand. “Listen, I’m sorry Elle, but I’m not sure why you’re calling. Jules and I, we’re not . . . together.” I had to shove the word out of my mouth.

  “She d-didn’t talk to you.” She sighed.

  I perked up. “Talk to me about what?”

  “He thr-threatened you. That’s why she, she changed her number.”

  My mouth went dry. That’s what happened? Why the hell didn’t she tell me? I squeezed the tennis ball in my hand until a dent appeared in the side.

  “Felix.” A deep breath. “Something’s w-w-wrong. She n-never called me after the fund-fundraiser. She’s not answering h-her phone.”

  Something dark and sinister curled in my gut. “Maybe she’s just busy.”

  “No.” Her answer was practically a shout. “N-no one will l-listen to me, but I’m t-telling you. Something’s wrong.”

 

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