good luck babe!
☕︎
Konan and Eduardo were scheduled to have breakfast with Delilah on the morning of the wedding rehearsal.
They weren’t looking as forward to it as they should’ve: besides the fact that those dinner drag on for hours during which you’re expected to sit on your ass and shut up, there was something odd about this marriage.
Konan had a clear memory of Ruth bursting into his office one evening after hours– he remembered fondness coursing through him as he saw her beam like he hadn’t seen her in eigjt years of friendship.
Dissonant Youth had just finished recording a jam session, to add as a bonus track on their upcoming album. The members all had exited the building as soon as they got done. Their instruments were left scattered around the studio- why would they bother clearing up the place when they specifically hired someone to do it? Perhaps Ruth got taken advantage of as a roadie, being at the band member's beck and call most of the time. Thankfully, the pay was good enough to overlook her treatment– or rather her mistreatment.
She couldn't expect much anyway, or so she thought: she barely completed high school after all, working dead-end jobs to pay the bills was common for her. At least, being a roadie, she didn't have that much to do.
When she'll have earned enough money though, she would love to get her auto mechanic degree. Her father taught her a lot, but his expertise sadly wasn't enough to land her a job at a garage full time. Konan trusted her enough to repair his car when it broke down though, which always made her day.
Delilah wasn't like the other band members. Despite their rise to fame, she remained humble: she'd betray herself otherwise. She couldn't forget where she came from, singing on the streets and working minimum wage, just because she was living more comfortably nowadays.
Despite coming from a similar background, Aaron always rolled his eyes as she slipped a 5 to any nice server she encountered, telling her she was wasting her money- which was rich, coming from a guy that had more coke than sugar in his pantry.
On the contrary, Ruth found it endearing. That's what made Delilah a little extra special in her eyes.
She lingered at the studio that night and even helped Ruth clean up, despite the roadie insisting she didn't have to do it.
They had a talk that evening. The talk.
The one that was bound to happen when Ruth stepped down after the last concert of the tour, where the roadie had spilled her feelings out to the singer. She didn't pressure her to have an answer right away: in fact, she didn't even need to have one.
Ruth would understand if Delilah rejected her advances: she had confessed to a woman who belonged to another, after all– yet, there was something in Delilah's eyes that told her that she, too, longed for more than friendship. Damned be Ruth if she were mistaken, but she had to set her feelings free. If not for them to become something more, then for herself to have a reason to move on.
Delilah had remained silent during her confession, mouth slighty agape and eyes shimmering.
There was something so frightening about admitting no friendship should have this much romantic tension; yet the words rolled off Ruth’s tongue that night in a way the singer-song writer could only dream of achieving.
Ruth had always been a lot more down to earth than Delilah. She wasn't confrontational and impulsive, quite the opposite in fact: but she hated conflict and always said things as they were, even if her words could be unintentionally harsh.
Delilah appreciated that in her. When coming across an issue, Ruth taught there wasn't always a need to fight, shout and break stuff: things could be talked through. Slowly, Delilah was learning how to communicate calmly, because she never wanted to fight, shout and break stuff with Ruth.
That night, Delilah thanked her and told her she'd think about it. She had wanted nothing more than to give her the biggest, longest, most romantic kiss in that moment– but Ruth deserved better than to be 'the other woman', a scandalous affair Delilah would try to hide from the world. And Ruth knew that as well when she told her nothing would happen as long as Delilah was involved with her guitarist.
They had parted not long after that, each going back home.
Three weeks.
That's the time Delilah took to ponder about the situation. Thankfully, everyone always went their own ways for a little bit after any tour, giving her the space she needed. Delilah never liked to be alone for long, but she learned to enjoy it this time.
Thankfully, she and Aaron had gotten in a fight during the tour, therefore hadn't spoken a word to each other until that day's jam session, where they coincidentally both asked the other to talk.
She was sure of it: she was going to end things with the guitarist for good this time. She'd finally let go of a relationship that should've ended long ago, close this chapter, to finally focus on the one for her. After ten years apart, they could finally be reunited, free of anyone's judgement. Their love had been put aside far too long, and Delilah was going to seize her chance instead of shoving those feelings in the back of a dusty close, like they had done too often
Besides, she had a feeling Aaron had the same idea in mind: after years at war against each other, they'd end things on a mutually agreed decision– perhaps the first since the beginning of their chaotic relationship.
Therefore, three weeks later, Delilah had lingered a little longer at the studio and told Ruth everything.
She told her that she reciprocated her feelings. She told her she'd leave her boyfriend, who had never been much of one anyway. She told her that she never spend a day without the thought of Ruth crossing her mind. She told her that despite what she told the press, most of their early love songs were written about Ruth. She told her she always wore gold jewerly because it reminded her of her eyes...
She told Ruth everything.
Konan would usually get annoyed at the people barging into his office for futile matters. As he listened to Ruth’s excited rambling though, he set down the pen and figured paperwork could be dealt with tomorrow.
And then…
Then he and Eduardo received Delilah and Aaron’s wedding invitation in the mail, which they had assumed had been an ill joke. Then Ruth called them, and he drove half an hour to her place with a tub of ice cream and a pack of her favorite beer.
Then here they were, on this very island, for the dreaded wedding.
Neither had seen the bride-to-be recently. They weren’t sure they were going to see any of her until the big day, but she happened to ring them to offer to join her for breakfast by the pool. They weren’t sure why, especially Eduardo who asked twice if she requested his presence as well (to which she agreed despite the two barely knowing each other). All in all, it was a somewhat odd request, but Konan was sure of one thing: he would get some insight on the situation.
They headed downstairs and met her where she claimed she would be– by the pool.
As a consequence of yesterday’s fun experiment, breakfast was served with a side of ibuprofen and sunglasses to hide their blood shot eyes.
"Good morning!" she called out from her seat. She winced as she saw them sluggishly making their way to their table before sprawling out on the chairs. "Ouch, rough evening?"
"You could say that." Konan replied, pushing the sunglasses up to rub his dry eyes.
They exchanged a few formalities over breakfast. It was mostly her doing the talking though, which wasn’t unusual per se. There was something different about her though, something Konan couldn’t quite place. From the outside, she seemed normal: having known her or years, Konan knew her forced smile and the way she stumbled over her words were all too strange… but then again, did he? He mostly knew, and even helped create, her stage persona.
"What is going on?" Eduardo asked bluntly. Whilst Konan was hoping for a subtler way to approach the subject, he was glad Eduardo addressed the elephant in the room.
"What?" she giggled. "There’s nothing going on. It’s all going great. I’m getting married. Yay!" she spoke a little too fast as she fiddled with her silverware.
"Cut the crap." Konan interjected. He might as well keep up the bluntness. "What is all… this?"
"I don’t see what you mean!"
"You meet your first love after ten years apart, but you decide to go for the guy you’ve broken up with a thousand times after she expresses her love?" Konan felt his blood rushing. He had enough self control not to slam his fist on the table, which never happened too often at the office. He continued: "Hell, you’re going as far as to marry him. What happened to breaking things off with him? Also, you’re even inviting Ruth to the wedding? Spare the girl a little."
Delilah’s eyes widened slightly at Konan’s words, unaware of his knowledge on the situation. As he spoke, her gaze never left her plate, focused on cutting an especially stubborn piece of meat.
"Of course I invited Ruth. She’s my maid of honor." she said through her teeth.
"DO YOU HATE HER?" Eduardo nearly spat out his orange juice. He muttered a quieter apology to the elderly couple nearby shooting a curious glance at him, not having realised his voice had gone off.
"He’s right." Konan was just as in disbelief. "How could you–"
Konan was cut off by the sound of Delilah’s fork clashing against the plate, sending a piece of her sausage flying in oblivion. If it were any less sturdier, she probably would’ve dented the plate. The table fell silent in an instant.
Delilah let go of her cutlery, not realising how strong her grip had been until she looked at her reddened fingertips. Her breathing was a little uneven as she looked around the pool, doing all to avoid Konan and Eduardo’s eyes.
She caught the attention of a waitress who rushed to their tables in an instant.
"Please take these back, we’re finished." she mumbled as the employee emptied the table. Eduardo thought about protesting as he saw his plate being taken away, but he figured now wouldn’t be good time to finish his mountain of syrup coated pancakes. Konan’s teeth ground in frustration.
"Oh also, would you bring me two margaritas sweetie? I’ll be in the smoker’s area." Delilah added as she stood up. The server nodded and went her way.
"I believe we’re done here." Delilah fiddled with her lighter, her hands trembling enough to not be able to spark the flame properly. "I’ll see you guys at the rehearsal dinner." she barely shot a glance in their direction as she exited the table before rushing to the other side of the deck.
She couldn’t bare the truth in their words nor the concern in their eyes, so she resorted to what she did best: running away. What else was there to do?
Eduardo shot a glance at Konan whose irritation had been replaced with utter confusion. The taller man sighed and got up from his seat: children had been gathering up by their corner of the pool and his pounding head could only handle so much. Eduardo entered the dining hall, and Konan wasn’t long to follow after.
[…]
The rehearsal had been an absolute disaster.
As it turns out, Aaron’s mates had hosted his bachelor party the day of the rehearsal. They all showed up late, some drunker than others, though none compared with the future groom who held the badge of honor.
Guests already were annoyed by the delay, but they tensed up when they saw the groom stumbling in wasted. Some even left when he began snoring during the incoherent speech given by one of the groomsmen: the ones who had stayed either felt pity for the future wife or were fuelling on gossip material.
Delilah sat in chair in the middle of the table, next to her boyfriend, who, despite having never been much of one anyway, was about to become her husband in short time. Her gaze fell upon him.
She watched as he struggled to keep his eye open. He sprawled over the table, his head comfortably resting on his crossed arms.
This vision once was dear to her heart– back when they had begun dating, when they were reckless young adults; a time all their rage was directed towards the world instead of each other. All this anger used to be transformed into songs; now it’s wasted on endless screaming matches.
His face was flushed and she swore she could’ve seen a blown pupil. Whatever it was they did at the bachelor party, she never wanted to hear any of it: not long ago, he had promised her to quit, yet here he was, breaking her already in pieces heart again.
She watched as chaos unfolded in front of her very eyes with the detachment of a third party viewer.
She stared at her silver engagement ring for a moment. Perhaps the way it was too tight for her finger, had been a sign of how it all would’ve went down. Aaron’s ego had always been huge, which only worsened as their band got popular: it took all the space in his world, barely leaving enough oxygen for her, and anyone else for that matter./p>
She looked up at the window, hopefully wishing for a more peaceful sight than the one in this room. Instead, where she was struck with the most horrifying realisation.
Her mother.
The woman wasn’t there, per se, disapprovingly glaring at the daughter through the window. She couldn’t even have known her daughter was getting married, anyway. They last saw each other ten years ago, a little after the incident. As Delilah made her way out the backyard, climbing over the fence one last time, she caught glimpse of her silhouette in the kitchen.
Obviously, she froze back then, like a deer caught in headlights. It was dark, as any night, and the kitchen wasn’t lit: she couldn’t make out her mother’s expression then, but she does vividly remember the woman turning her heels and leaving.
Delilah had waited, expecting to hear the familiar creaking of the backdoor any second– but nothing came. Perhaps if she had lingered any longer, something would’ve come for her: but her time had been too precious to waste. So she hopped off the fence and ran as fast as she could to her new life, a few nights in the back of a truck away.
Delilah liked to think it had been her mother’s final act of love to let her go. Her first and last actually: the woman had been incapable of feeling anything but disdain for her daughter– no, she reminded herself, for anyone.
She was no fool though.
Her mother probably had assumed she’d crawl back to her, thus allowing the teen to 'learn a lesson'. However, she most likely didn’t want Delilah to be part of her picture perfect family anymore, which is why she did nothing to stop her from running away.
She’d rather not torture herself with questions that would be left unanswered. She wasn’t even sure to having actually seen her mother that time anyway.
Nonetheless, sometimes in the night, when her anxieties crept in, she wandered if her mother sometimes thought of her as well, at night when she also couldn’t fall asleep.
As she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window, all she could see was her mother. She looked just like she did in her wedding pictures: desperate, eyes using any life left in them to scream, hurl, beg for help.
Her father hadn’t been a violent man, far from it. Nevertheless, their arranged marriage did cut her mother’s wings off: trapping her in a housewife role she had never wanted. The woman took revenge on her husband and her kids, as if they were to blame for her situation– their mere existence reminding her each and every second that she had failed in standing up to her parents; failed in pursuing her career; failed becoming her own person.
On that day, she decided that if she was going to be stuck in a homemaker position, then the rest of her family might as well fit into the cliché. If she had nothing to show, then she’d at least have a picture perfect family: then maybe, she wouldn’t feel as is she was nothing but a failure.
It’s a lot of pressure to put onto anyone’s shoulders. A rupture was bound to happen, but the family kept enduring it over and over until Delilah couldn’t anymore and wanted to stepped outside her mother’s shadow, attempting to become her own person. She’s always had her long lost ambition, which the woman couldn’t stand– so she took drastic measure to have her child fit into the standard again. That night, the night of the incident, Delilah had decided to run away… what else was there to do?
Delilah let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding.
All her life, she did everything to not ressemble her mother the slightest– yet here she was finding herself in her situation, only about forty years later.
She snatched the mic from the drunk groomsman without really thinking. She tapped the mic with her finger, giving her some time to prepare for her improvised speech. She cleared her throat before speaking: "The rehearsal’s dismissed. Thank you for showing up, good night everyone."
As she watched people rush towards the exit, the urge to hit Aaron’s unshaven face with the mic coursed through her veins: she didn’t want to burden people with an earache on top of everything though, so she gripped the mic a little tighter before leaving it on the table and joining the guests as well.
Aaron probably would’ve grabbed ahold of the mic to order everyone to 'get their asses back in here', which no one would’ve done anyway, but Delilah was grateful he had simply turned his head to the other side, continuing his impromptu nap.
Delilah walked around the island to cool off. Her boots had led her to the beach, where she sat in the sand for a minute.
The strong gust of wind blew against her exposed skin: she shivered, bringing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around herself.
She wasn’t sure for how long she had been there until she felt something covering her shoulders and exposed back, suddenly bringing her out of her thoughts. She blinked, grabbing the sides what she figured was a jacket as she looked up when she heard a familiar voice:
"I’m not always gonna come look after you when you decide to run away." Ruth said as she sat next to her, and Delilah had never been more grateful for her presence. "So, was that an improvised bit or–"
Delilah yanked Ruth’s collar and brought her closer, yielding to her desires, and pressed her lips against hers.
No more running away now.
☕︎