Waking up
Zinnia Geminga Black was a quiet and timelessly beautiful young woman who was born and raised in Manhattan. She had her rich party friends in the city. Spent many of her younger years blacked out and numbing the pain of her seemingly useless existence. She preferred to be busy, shopping, partying, obsessing over tv shows or a new book series - all in an attempt to not jump out the window of her Upper East Side penthouse.
This is what she could recollect, as she woke up to fluorescent overhead lighting, the stench of antiseptic filling her nose. Looking down, she saw cords and tubes attached to her hands, her nails still looked like they were freshly manicured. The beeping of the monitors were aggravating her and she sat up to assess what just happened, why was she here? Ok, the beeping is too much, she stood up out of the bed, feet bare on the cold tile (fresh pedi as well mind you), and ripped the plugs out of the sockets. This caused louder beeps and nurses rushed in, plugging things back in and firmly putting her back in her bed.
“Miss. Black, we are so happy to see you awake! Up and moving even!” The nurse told her, holding her shoulders against the pillow.
Zinnia hated this, “Thanks, what is going on please can we ditch the beeping monitors? It's infuriating.”
The nurse explained some, her accident, her brain damage, her four month long coma that she had just now woken from. Hugo was on his way.
“Thanks, did anyone call my mom?” She asked and the nurse froze.
“Oh honey, I am so sorry. Your mother, she has passed.”
“Oh, ok. Um, when did this happen? When I was in the coma?” She asked, trying to remember anything about this accident or the time leading up to it.
“Hugo will explain everything, dear. Let’s get you some real food and I have alerted your doctor to come see you now that you are awake.”
“Thanks.”
She didn’t know what to say or how to react. She was numb, the feeling of loneliness and doom that she woke up feeling was rushed over her again. Maybe she already knew about her mom? Yes she did, she read it, but when? Her head hurt badly. She looked at the IV, wondering if they can up the dosage of painkillers. The beeping was so loud. She squeezed her eyes shut, and it stopped. Interesting, she thought to herself. No nurses came rushing in, the screens were all still on, just the noise had stopped.
Soon enough Hugo was there, crying and hugging her. He was just as overly emotional as her mother is, was? He apologized over and over again about her mother. Explaining that she was killed in a horrible accident back in London just before Zinnia was nearly also killed by her own wine collection. He sobbed into her neck, grateful that he did not lose her as well.
All Zinnia wanted was for him to pull himself together and get her out of that damn hospital. He did do just that eventually. The nurses insisted she stay, that her doctor was on his way. But Hugo did as Zinnia wished. Taking her home to sleep in her own bed, no beeping or antiseptic.
“Thank you Hugo, for getting me out of there. Four months? Is that true?” She asked him in the backseat of their private car.
“Zinnia, I am so happy you are ok, you had me so scared. I found you, it was -” He stopped and shuddered.
She could only imagine what he saw when he found her, bloody, near dead, broken glass everywhere, red wine staining her skin and hair.
“But that is the past. Everything is cleared up, put back together, safely, of course. I am just thanking Merlin that you are alright.”
“Merlin?” she asked, confused.
“What all do you remember Z?”
“Dad’s dead. Mom’s dead. Stella alive? Dalton alive? New York City. You, Chuck," nodding her head to their driver. "That’s all I can recollect for right now.”
“Hmm, curious.” Hugo looked at her, head tilted.
“What? I don’t remember the accident, I don't even know what wine fell on my head.”
He told her about last year. How she had spent her gap year renovating the penthouse from top to bottom, the faulty wine racks that nearly killed her.
“Ok, I think I remember that. Patrick! He helped me with the designer, Susan? I think that was her name. And after, or maybe before? We all went to the Hamptons! We went to Spain too I think. It’s all a jumble but it's all there!”
Hugo smiled a sad smile. He knew that it was not all there. Her occluding may have serious consequences. But he didn’t care about that. She was safe, she was healthy, she was alive. Zinnia dressed in her own clothes again, feeling somewhat more back to normal. A hear shaped silver locket was with her things, she put it on without thinking much more about it.
***
Back home at the penthouse, Zinnia looked around at her redesign. The wine cellar that had nearly killed her was removed and she noticed a door was in its place, the ‘cellar’ now just a wall behind the kitchen with all the wine that was destroyed replaced. She approached the door, something drawing her to it, not remembering what was behind it. Opening the door, she was met with a storage closet, small with a few winter coats.
“So I took the liberty to just add that closet back and shunk the cellar size. It is temporary, just didn’t want to overstep your design choice.” Hugo told her as she shut the closet and walked back to the kitchen to join him.
He was too afraid that if she had seen her mother's room again, she would trigger something in her brain and he would lose her again. He thought he would ease into it and show her when she was ready.
“Thanks Hugo, for taking care of that clean up. And for everything. Speaking of design choices, now that mom’s dead what’s happened to the business?” Zinnia asked. Wincing to herself as the word 'dead' came so easily out of her mouth.
“Well, that is entirely up to you. As a partner, I have been running sales, marketing and all the business side. With your mother no longer with us, we have no new designs.” Hugo replied.
“I think I would like to design. Mom is impossible to replace, but I want to do something. I feel like I need a creative outlet. I need something to distract me.”
“That is wonderful Zinnia! I know how proud that would make your mother, whenever you are ready to start, stop in the studio. You are of course always welcome there.”
“Great! Ok well Hugo, I really do feel great. How are you?” Zinnia asked. Ophelia and Zinnia were Hugo’s whole life. With her mom gone and her in a coma, he must have been terribly lonely.
“I am just fine Z. Lonely, but fine. Much happier that you are awake and safe and healthy.”
She walked around the island to pull him in for a hug. Hugo, being British, was not a big hugger. He still held her tight in his arms and she smelled in his cologne. Tom Ford, and the subtle smell of a cigar that he smoked only on special occasions. They stayed in the embrace for longer than Hugo had ever allowed her to hug him.
Zinnia was the first to pull away. She wiped a tear that had fallen down her cheek. “Weird, I feel like I am in a dream. This doesn’t feel real.” She said, twirling her necklace.
“Zinnia, I think it will be best to see your doctor first thing in the morning. Your brain took damage and you lost a good amount of your memories. Do you remember any more from London?”
“Hugo, you know I hate doctors. I remember London, I just want the past to stay in the past ok? I want to focus on the new design ideas that I have. Oh also I need to reach out to my friends, check in and see how they are.” Zinnia was talking a mile a minute and started to go through her phone.
“Maybe you could just go for a scan, just one for me?” Hugo pleaded.
“Just one Hugo.”
“Deal.”
***
The doctor’s scans were clear and normal, Hugo was still not satisfied and wanted her to go to another doctor he knew in London. Zinnia refused profusely and continued to focus almost all of her time taking over designing at her mother’s wedding gown shop. When she wasn’t working, she was at the gym or partying. Dalton and Stella were there for Zinnia to wipe her tears, and distract her with parties, drinks and other things.
She would try to remember more of the past, it was painful, and only remembered bits and pieces. She knew she had spent her elementary to highschool years studying in Europe. She didn’t remember a lot of her time there. Just that she hated wearing a uniform, it was almost always gray outside, and she partied a lot. She came back to New York for her final year and finished her course work at home. That was when her mother died. She tried so hard to remember times with her mother in London, but it was all hazy, like she dreamed it. Hugo would tell her stories and show her pictures. She would lie to him because she felt so bad that she had forgotten. She had partied a lot in recent years, drinking heavily, taking pills that strangers at loud clubs would hand her, and filling her nose up with powder.
As her friends were going back to college, Zinnia was starting to feel lonely. Stella was brilliant and had always dreamed of going into medicine, as her mother and father were both the most celebrated surgeons in the state. She was in her second year at Colombia and her pre-med courses had started to take over every waking hour. Dalton was less preoccupied with his studies at NYU and more preoccupied with boys. He came out to Stella and Zinnia when they were 12, although it didn’t come as much of a surprise to the girls as he had been caught countless times trying on their perfumes and ogling at the captain of the polo team. Dalton was studying entrepreneurship and shadowing his mother to take over their family business. When he wasn’t on a date, on a zoom call, or sleeping through a class, he was with Zinnia partying.
One night at an underground club in the lower west side, Zinnia and Dalton were on stage with the loud emo band. Zinnia loved to sing and they would always let her do a song or two when they took a break, it also helped that she was sleeping with the drummer. She sang a rendition of ‘Old Money’ by Lana Del Rey while Dalton played the piano. The club was mesmerized by her presence, most people were. When she walked into any room heads would turn. After her song she and Dalton jumped off stage and went to take shots at the bar.
“Wow, you have the voice of a siren.” A tall blond guy said to Zinnia. “Can I buy you and your friend a drink?”
Zinnia was disgusted by this guy’s aura. She could always read a person, she could literally see a halo of light surrounding people and the colors and vibes were always right.
“No! Bye!” She replied and grabbed Dalton to leave. She felt the creep grab her wrist.
“Ouch! Fuck! You bitch!” He pulled his hand back to his chest, clutching it. Looking at her wildly like she had attacked him.
“Is there a problem here?” Her drummer man had found them in the crowd. Putting his arm around Zinnia’s shoulders.
“No problem, it’s handled. Hi babe.” She shot the creep a death glare as he slinked back into the crowd, then looked up at her newest fling.
“Cool, hey babe you sounded fucking angelic up there. I didn’t think this bar would enjoy that kind of music, all these headbangers, you know. But wow! They were eating out of the palm of your hand!” He grabbed her hand, kissing it on the palm symbolically.
Zinnia laughed and pulled him so she could whisper in his ear. “Greenroom?” she asked and he threw her over his shoulder heading back stage. “Dalton! Come with us!” She shouted to her friend. Dalton rolled his eyes and followed.
They got back to the greenroom and the drummer sat her on the dirty leather couch, surrounded by his band mates.
“Z, you want a drink?” He asked her, pouring himself a cup of mainly vodka and some club soda.
“Yes!” She accepted a similar drink and chatted with his bandmates about their set and her own impromptu performance. Dalton was sitting at a keyboard teaching one of the members a song.
The drummer was next to her, kissing her neck as she talked to their bassist. “Come on, let's find a little more privacy.” he growled in her ear, nibbling on her earlobe.
“Well, I promise to return your drummer as soon as I am finished with him!” She told the room as they rushed up and he led her to a small private dressing room.
He locked the door and took two strides to meet her, she was sitting on the vanity spreading her legs. Her vision was blurry but she could see his aura bright and honest, clouded right now with lust. Her gift of reading people have saved her and her friends from a lot of scary situations. She was ready and willing to sleep with this drummer after watching his aura on stage a few nights. He was passionate and safe, so she was able to be open and enjoy herself with him.
“Mhmm Zinnia. I missed you.” He said through kisses on her neck.“Fuck,” he cursed as she pulled his pants down just far enough to allow his cock to free.
“Shut up and fuck me baby.” She commanded, tugging on his dick and rubbing her clit under her skirt. She felt bad that she could never remember his name so resorted to calling him babe or baby even though she hated the nickname.
He obeyed her command and lined his cock up to her entrance. She scooted her hips up to meet him and he entered her quickly. He was big but was not a great fuck. She continued to circle her clit with her pointer and middle finger, willing herself to get more wet. The drummer was sloppy, not able to find the right rhythm most ironically. Was it always like this? She thought to herself. She couldn't remember the guys she slept with in the past before she moved back to America. The drummer was the first guy she let hit since being back. His thrusts were speeding up and she removed her fingers, accepting that she would not finish before he did. It still felt good, but no fireworks. She felt his cock twitching and he immediately pulled out of her, pumping himself and finishing on her thigh.
“Fuck that was amazing.” He breathed, shimmying his pants back on. He kissed her again, it was a sweet kiss. He really is a nice guy, Zinnia thought, trying to ignore the itch that he didn’t scratch for her. “Here sorry babe, let me get that.” He plucked some tissues out of a box on the vanity and wiped the jizz off her thigh.
“Thank you, I’ll see you out there? I need a minute, I’m going to use the toilet for a second.” She told him.
“Haha, ok babe. The toilet is ready for you” He left the room after mocking her for using the term rather than bathroom or restroom.
Once the door was shut, Zinnia wet her pointer and middle finger in her mouth to finish herself off. She squeezed her eyes shut, imagining someone else pleasuring her. His tongue circled her clit, traveling down to her cunt to collect more moisture and pulling it up to tease her clit again. She envisioned his hair in her hand and then his long fingers entering her to find her g-spot. Pinching her nipple and biting her lip, she shuddered under her hand and her breathing quickened. Drummer boy was so close but he was too drunk to be attentive enough to her needs. She kept her eyes close and felt the rubber band in her stomach about to snap, a face was flashing in her memory. He was grinning up at her before burying his face back to her pussy. Her thighs squeezed close as she kept firm pressure on her clit, riding out her orgasm.
Catching her breath, she collected herself and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Who was that man in her mind? A knock on the door snapped her out of the thought and she returned to the party.
“Let’s get out of here.” She said to Dalton as the band prepared to take the stage again.
“Use ‘em and lose ‘em. You inspire me, Zinnia.” Dalton laughed as they stumbled down the stairs to the subway.
“Whatever he was sweet! I’m just over it, on to the next!” She giggled back. “Come sleep over, we can get brunch with Stel in the morning!”
***