A Flare Of Hope (The Jaylior Series Book 1)

by Elodie Colt

  After that horrible time was finally over, I dared to go out for the first time. The daylight hurt my eyes, and it took me a long time to adjust. The city life crashed into me with the force of a bus. The cars, the people, the stenches—it was overwhelming.

  I spent my time walking for miles without any destination or purpose in mind. At night, I found myself rotting in bars and night clubs, dumping one triple shot after another just to ease the pain to a dull, bearable ache. College became unimportant, and my future deflated into a puff of smoke. I would have never come out of the shit hole if it hadn’t been for Lauren…

  Present

  I stopped short in my thoughts as the water turned cold. Feeling a little clearer in my mind, I stepped out of the shower to start my everyday routine—or rather ‘night routine’—of drying my hair, brushing my teeth, applying makeup, donning clothes appropriate for a pub and securing my long hair with a clip. Nostalgia overwhelmed me every day I put that clip in place.

  It was the only thing I’d kept of Shawna’s belongings. All the other stuff had landed in the garbage. I couldn’t stand their presence. The hair clip, though, was a birthday present from her. Shawna knew of my everyday meltdown because no hairband or barrette was working with my mass of waist-length hair. I’d wanted to cut it, but Shawna wouldn’t allow it. She loved to play with my hair—braiding it or making ridiculous knots on top of my head.

  Shawna had surprised me by giving me this beautiful handmade hair clip. It was rusty golden with dark brown and black splotches giving it a worn down metallic look. A golden metal rose was attached to the enclosed side. Its curved shape adjusted comfortably to the natural form of my head. It was not only the most beautiful piece of jewelry I’d ever owned but also the only clip to keep all of my hair in place with one simple flick of my wrist.

  I’d done a good job at camouflaging my face with makeup to obscure any signs of lack of sleep. Bright concealer covered the dark circles under my eyes. Brown eyeliner contoured my glassy eyes to highlight the hazel irises. Black mascara framed my lids. A little touch of rouge and bronzing powder colored my pale skin—hopefully, I’d get my color back when the busy work warmed me up a little. Only the little freckles around my nose were still visible. No amount of makeup had ever managed the task of hiding the annoying spots.

  At last, I adjusted a few bracelets and leather wristbands to hide the scars of my past.

  With a sigh and a nod at my reflection in the mirror, I gave myself a mental slap of motivation before grabbing my belongings and going upstairs to the roof of the apartment. Closing the trap door behind me, I pulled the hood of my black sweater over my head. I took a few steps backward to gain distance to the edge of the roof, sprinted forward and leaped high just before I reached the edge.

  “What do you think of them?” Lauren shouted over the loud music, removing the cap of a beer bottle before handing it to a customer.

  “Of whom?” I shouted back without looking up, busy with adding lemon slices to six shots of tequila.

  “The band. I think they’re great,” Lauren replied, shaking her hips to the drum solo following the chorus.

  I glanced up at the stage. I chuckled as the drummer increased the punching rate of his wooden sticks while headbanging crazily to the fast rhythm he was playing.

  “Looks like his head will be stuck in the drumhead soon.” I shoved the shot glasses together so I could put them on the counter for the girl who’d ordered them, wiping my sticky hands on my jeans before taking the change.

  Lauren snorted at my comment and went over to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. “That’s the way it’s supposed to be. Have you never been to a rock concert before? Everyone wakes up with a huge headache and a stiff neck the next day.”

  “No, and from the sounds of it, I don’t regret never having had the experience,” I replied while wiping the counter removing glasses and ashtrays in the process.

  With the responsibility of raising a teenager, I’d never had the opportunity to make my plans for the future come true. I didn’t mind. I didn’t have much fun in anything I was doing anymore. What I did was enough to occupy my mind, and that was more than I could have wished for. Considering I wouldn’t have thought that to be possible four years ago, it was a huge step forward.

  The customers were busy pushing their way through the crowd to get closer to the stage. I was thankful for the break—I hadn’t had a breather for the last three hours.

  Lauren studied me carefully while taking sips of her water. I had a bad feeling about where this was going. I knew her look of concern all too well.

  Lauren turned to face me. “You don’t look well,” she observed. Damn, there wasn’t a single thing she didn’t notice.

  I set the ashtrays back on the counter and started refilling the snack bowls in hopes of biding some time. Pretending to be fine wasn’t an option. Lauren would see through me. She always did.

  “Didn’t sleep well,” I mumbled, concentrating hard on aligning the snack bowls on the counter. Lauren came over to me, but a new customer was already waiting to place his order.

  “Hi, what can I get you?” I politely asked the man despite the depressed mood I was in. I was thankful for the distraction, although I knew Lauren would again bring up the matter later.

  “Well, hello beautiful,” the man with a three-day beard and glassy eyes replied with a mocking grin and a gaze hitting my every nerve. Great. Exactly what I needed…

  I was used to having at least three drunken customers per night making poor attempts at attracting my attention, but I was not in the mood tonight and didn’t have the energy to settle things calmly.

  “How about a gin and tonic, darling?”

  How about I punch you in the balls? I thought, but bit back the words and even managed a small smile.

  “Sure,” I replied sweetly and turned around to mix the cocktail. I noticed Lauren glowering at the unwelcome stranger, maybe in hopes of signaling him to shut his mouth before she focused her attention back on me.

  “Did you have nightmares again?” she asked with underlying sympathy.

  “Yes,” I answered in a clipped voice while filling a glass with ice cubes and going in search of the needed bottles nearly tripping over my feet in the process. Ugh, it couldn’t get any better. I really could do without my clumsiness at work.

  Lauren put a hand on her hip. We were having discussions like these at least once a week. I didn’t understand why she still bothered to ask the same question when she already knew the answer.

  “Haylie, I know you don’t want my advice, but please just listen to me once—why don’t you let somebody help you? There are professionals out there who—”

  I cut her off before she could finish the sentence. “No.” Lauren heaved a sigh. She wouldn’t back down that easily, so I tried to reason with her. “We’ve had this discussion before, Lauren. You know my opinion on this.”

  “Yes, but—” Lauren started but was cut off by a sharp voice.

  “Hey, babe! I’m paying you to serve me, not for girly talk. I’m thirsty, so bring me my damn drink!” the stranger snapped.

  My heart pounded loudly in my chest as my mind became foggy all of a sudden. A strange kind of red haze settled over my eyes. With the gin bottle in hand, I knocked over the tonic bottle which resulted in a loud clink, but I prevented them from crashing to the ground just in time. I blinked a few times and shook my head to come back to my senses. That strange feeling was familiar, and it terrified me.

  Before I could give the asshole a snippy answer, Lauren snatched the cocktail from my hands—absolutely oblivious to my short trip down crazy lane—and bumped it loudly on the counter causing half of the drink to spill over.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but if you’re looking for girls serving you and tending to your special needs, you’ve landed in the wrong bar. I’m sure you’ll find what you’re looking for in one of Jessica’s love rooms across the street. And that’s eight dollars, please,” she added
, her voice challenging, daring him to hit on me again.

  There was barely a man who didn’t back down from Lauren. She had a talent for radiating dominance as was the case now—chin held high and eyebrows raised, she kept her hand outstretched and her palm open waiting patiently for the man to give her the money he owed her.

  Anger crossed his features, but it vanished just as quickly as his hand moved to collect the money from his pockets. He slowly counted the coins and finally put them in Lauren’s hand. She closed it to a fist and thanked him with an exaggerated sweet voice.

  “You’re right, I should go to Jessica’s. This one’s stunning and slender and that butt…” He trailed off, raking his gaze over my body in a way that made me gag, his tone slightly slurring from his drunken state, “… but if I were into suicide victims, I’d visit the psychiatric ward,” he added pointing with his finger to my arm propped on the counter behind me.

  My gaze wandered to the scars on my right forearm. I didn’t own enough bracelets to cover all four inches of destroyed skin. They were much fainter than four years ago but still clearly visible. A smart person would know these scars weren’t the result of an unsuccessful suicide attempt. The cuts were crossing over, a few leaving zig-zag paths, not one in a straight horizontal line. Nevertheless, I’d grown accustomed to judging stares and wrong assumptions, which was why I usually hid them.

  Lauren stared at the man with her mouth gaping open. Well, a stunned Lauren was definitely a first. The stranger only grinned, knowing he’d struck home with his inappropriate remark.

  I’d learned to shut things off over the last few years. There wasn’t much I took personally anymore, but granted, this one was a particularly low blow.

  Something clicked in my mind—or was it my body? Again, there was this strange feeling—little butterflies in my stomach, and the notion that time was passing by slower than usual. Dizziness overcame me, and I grabbed the counter harder for support.

  What the hell was wrong with me? Maybe I was low on sugar. I hadn’t eaten all day.

  The stranger downed his drink in one gulp holding the empty glass up in a gesture of mocking salute before pivoting on his heels and leaving Joey’s bar. I exhaled in relief when he was finally out the door and stumbled over to the faucet for a glass of water. Putting it to my lips, I swallowed the water greedily.

  “Oh my God, what an asshole he was! A shitfaced, fucked up, narcissistic…” Lauren lost it completely, frantically searching for more curse words. She didn’t even bother about the queuing customers who were in hearing range, so I shut her off and put a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm her.

  “Lauren, you’re making a scene.”

  “But… but…” Her shocked face was almost comical.

  “Yes, I know, just leave it. He’s gone, and he won’t come back,” I assured her.

  Lauren had asked about my cuts once, but as I hadn’t known about their origin myself, a satisfying answer was still pending. That was until the dream haunting me only hours before—now I knew where they came from.

  All of a sudden, I was overcome with the weird feeling of being watched. Scanning the bar for anything out of place, my gaze landed on an unfamiliar face.

  A man was sitting in the farthest corner of one of the leather booths and out of reach of the spotlights’ light beams. I could only make out contours through the shadows, his face obscured, but I’d bet my hair clip that the strange man was staring straight at me. He was smoking a cigarette, the orange glow of the tip in front of his face brightening his eyes.

  Then, another glint of light caught his eyes highlighting their color for a brief moment, but the illumination disappeared so quickly I wondered if I hadn’t imagined it after all. Despite me feeling complete repulsion over the foreign man from before, I’d rather have him back in here than being anywhere near the man staring at me like a hawk. He wasn’t assaulting me in any way, but his unrelenting glare sent cold shivers down my body nonetheless.

  Lauren’s concern shook me from my dark musings. “Are you okay?”

  I turned my attention back to her, giving her a reassuring smile. “Yeah, don’t worry about me. Handling rude customers is our job, remember?” I added to lighten the mood, and although I felt my strength returning, I was still a little wobbly on my feet. I’d have to work harder to get my lack of physical balance under control. I couldn’t afford for it to affect my working abilities—or any other abilities for that matter.

  Lauren nodded slowly. “Yeah, you’re right. Remind me to work something out to handle them better next time.”

  I laughed at her reply. “Will do.”

  Thankfully, the evening drew to a close, and the few customers I dealt with throughout the remainder of the night didn’t consist of any drunkards with a bad attitude. I wasn’t oblivious to the fact that Lauren was busy serving all the men. She didn’t want me to be a target for more insults for which I was grateful.

  My gaze wandered back to the booth in the corner, but the man with the weird eyes was gone. I hadn’t seen him leave, but he’d been there five minutes ago, right?

  The band started to clear the stage, and I switched off the main lights to let the customers know we were about to close. After Lauren threw out the last remaining customers—or rather ‘leftovers’—she returned behind the bar. Exhaustion must have overcome her as she threw her head on the surface with a loud, exaggerated bump.

  “I’m done for tonight. Two drunkards and the biggest asshole on earth is more than I can handle. And I’ve been dumped with beer three times tonight.”

  “Yeah, that’s exactly how you smell,” I mocked, wrinkling my nose to make my point.

  “Thanks,” Lauren mumbled sarcastically. Without looking up, she stretched out one arm and flipped me off causing me to chuckle. “I swear, if I ever come across that scumbag again, I’ll cut off his manhood and force him to eat it after piercing his eyes with the straw of his cocktail.”

  I laughed in response as I could clearly picture Lauren in her don’t-mess-with-me attitude. “Let’s go home, shall we? It’s getting late.”

  Lauren heaved her head up from the counter. “Yeah, let’s do that. I’ll get my things.”

  ~~~

  “Haylie, you’re not letting that get you down, right? What that guy said…”

  I interrupted her with a forced smile on my face. “… was just to annoy me, I know.” Lauren nodded and offered me a reassuring smile.

  The night was peaceful—or should I say morning, as the dark blue of the sky was already fading to purple. A thin sickle of the moon was visible from behind the clouds. The temperature had dropped drastically making our breaths come out in smoky puffs.

  “Yes. And you’re beautiful the way you are, I hope you know that. You’re one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever met.”

  I smiled back at her and shook my head. “Don’t exaggerate, Lauren. You are the exotic girl with the Brazilian touch and the ebony hair.”

  I once categorized myself as pretty, too, but after everything went downhill, so had my self-esteem. Whenever I was looking in the mirror, I didn’t see a pretty girl anymore—I saw an empty shell wearing a mask to blend in with the others to avoid questions that made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t putting on makeup every day before work to highlight pretty features but to hide my ugly side underneath.

  Lauren tilted her head to capture my eyes which were currently staring at the ground. “I still don’t understand why you’re hiding your face under those hoodies all the time.”

  I sighed before muttering shamefully, “You know I feel safer with them.”

  “A hood won’t save you from anything,” Lauren stubbornly stated, but she knew it was no use. She’d tried a thousand times before to convince me otherwise. “You don’t see yourself as others do.”

  I laughed drily. “Nobody sees me, Lauren. Not anymore,” I added in a low voice knowing how pathetic I sounded. Lauren seemed aggravated all of a sudden.

  “Don’t you dar
e say something like that! Don’t you see the men looking at you? Don’t you see the women who are jealous of you? Every damn night at Joey’s there are people looking at you… only you.”

  No, I didn’t see. I simply didn’t care anymore to notice. I remained silent, hoping she would drop the topic. After a few minutes, we came to a stop in front of Lauren’s apartment.

  I faced Lauren and gave her what she wanted to hear—the truth. “Lauren, I appreciate your concern for me, I do. Nobody cares so much about me, and you know I wouldn’t be here now if it weren’t for you.”

  I didn’t say so to her, but Lauren was the only reason I kept going each day. Without her, I would have ended my life sooner or later, as shameful as it sounded.

  “But what happened destroyed me,” I continued in a dead voice. It wasn’t easy to talk about it, even if it was only to Lauren. “I’m fighting every damn day to blend in and give off the appearance of being happy, but I’m not. And I… I can’t go back, you know? Life isn’t the same anymore, Lauren. I am not the same anymore, but that’s okay with me. I just hope that the pain and that weird feeling of loneliness will go away someday.” Lauren threw me a pitiful look. “Four years, Lauren. Four years have passed, and yes, you dug me out of the deepest shithole, but I’m still not okay, Lauren. I’m still not okay.”

  Lauren opened her mouth but seemed to struggle with her choice of words. That had probably been my longest speech ever. I felt awful for my best friend. Lauren had already done so much to help me. I could still remember how we first met…

  Four years ago

  I sat on the pavement of the street to my apartment deeply lost in thought and staring straight ahead. It was raining heavily, and my clothes were soaked. I didn’t mind. Lately, I found myself too restless to stay inside. I would get skittish, feeling trapped inside the walls. The air I inhaled felt thicker than usual, so I spent most of my time outside, even if it only consisted of sitting in the dirt and letting horrible thoughts torture my fragile mind.