Something Old, Something New

Scene 1: Madison Street

Leo Rylin

"I got them!" Matt proudly handed me the movie cases.

"Fucking Christ," I said, lowly, as I went through each one, looking at the covers. He bought horror movies that he knows were banned from other countries. He thinks that makes them better like they weren't banned for a reason.

"What do you think this will do to our brains?" Amanda cringed.

"Who cares?" Matt shrugged.

"When you become the Hannibal lector of the lower east side, you'll spare us, right?"

I chuckled at her. "Afraid not, Clarice."

Matt sucked his teeth. "Where's Elle? She'd back me up."

"We're doing fine without her," Mandy rolled her eyes.

"Don't you get started," I sighed.

"You never tell her that."

"Yeah, I do. That's why she doesn't talk to you."

"She's rude," Amanda pressed.

"No, she's not. She just...doesn't like that we used to-" I raised my eyebrows, "you know."

"Tell her to get over it. That was forever ago, we haven't hooked up in like— a year."

"I can't tell her to get over it."

"Wasn't a problem for Heather."

"Because you made it seem like you were her friend."

"I am."

I scoffed. "Yeah, how's that working out?"

"Still a lot better than me and that ho," she glared.

"Amanda," I said sternly.

"If it's just going to be us, then we don't have to watch all of them. We can save the rest for when there's more people— and Amanda can be as far away from Elle as possible," Matt suggested.

"Doesn't matter if we're separated. She'll still be crying over her precious Leo not being a virgin."

"Jesus Christ. Shut up," I said to cut the Elle talk, and because I see Mr. Krakowski nearing the door.

When it opened, we all moved off to the side of the steps so he could come down.

"Wow, Mr. Krakowski, you look good," I commented.

"I have tickets to a show," he smiled and adjusted his top hat.

"What are you going to see?"

"Fancy clothes," Krakowski said, excitedly, fishing into his pocket to hand me the tickets.

Of course.

I nodded. "The charity fashion show."

"You know about this?"

"Yeah, it's Heather's." I hand them back. "She must've sent them."

"Would you like to go, Leonardo?"

"Nah...she doesn't want me there."

"But she sent me another," he said as if I were the only reason he'd be given two tickets.

"You should take Ms. Myrtle from downstairs. She likes you."

"Are you sure?"

"I think you'll have fun."

"If I see Heather, I will do my best to make her smile. I will for you."

I pressed my lips together and nodded, not having the heart to tell him that I'm the quickest way to wipe the smile off of her face.

Matt stood up to open the door for him and then waited until he was out of earshot to speak again

"He knows you're with someone else, right?" Matt laughed.

"Yeah. I think so."

"He's badass for just ignoring it," Amanda smiled in amusement.

"It's because of something I said to him before. I should've kept my mouth shut."

"What?" Matt asked.

"Just something that'll never let him believe I'm over Heather."

Scene 2: 8th Avenue

Audrey Michaels

Camille fixed Heather's posture. "Eyes straight ahead, don't go bobbling about. And don't focus on your walk so much, you'll stagger."

"What if I fall?" She asked.

"Don't," Camille replied before leaving to tend to another model.

"This needs to go straight to your closet after. This line captured you perfectly." Her style is easy. Simple and mildly racy. It works.

For her.

"Have you seen Ethan, by any chance?"

"No...why?"

"I want his opinion."

"On your dress..." I said in confused offense. "I'm right here, and I am absolutely positive his knowledge of fashion doesn't surpass mine."

"On the show. He's good at this sort of thing."

"So, am I. You couldn't begin to count the number of parties, fundraisers, dances, and galas I've hosted."

"Maybe because they're all forgettable."

My eyes narrowed into a scowl. "Pardon me?"

"Contrary to your own beliefs, Audrey, you were never throwing the event of the century," Heather snarked, giving me a captious look right as she left for the runway.

Oh, we've all been so nice about her new attitude problem. But if you keep waking up on the 'wrong side of the bed', then sleep on the goddamn floor, Heather.

"Audrey, I have a dress that would fit you perfectly, give or take a few minor alterations, if you'd like to join the last walk."

"Thank you, but I'll have to pass. I don't think your daughter even wants me in the audience," I crossed my arms.

"Try not to take it to heart. She has been...irritable ever since her return."

"It's been 2 months since then, I'm not sure you can call it irritability at this point."

"Despite my best efforts, I've been reduced to simply waiting for it to end because nothing I have done seems to sway her," Camille said, exhaustedly.

"You're better than I am, I would've put her on the first flight back to Europe by now."

"...should I?"

"I'm only kidding..." mostly.

"It doesn't have to be as far as Italy, but perhaps it is being here that makes her feel...hopeless. The lack of care for everything isn't sudden...she expressed it some time ago."

"She did?"

Camille nodded. "During a winter tantrum."

"Seasonal depression?" I raise an eyebrow.

"God forbid." She stiffened up. "I'll have to speak to her father, but it's clearly time to start looking for boarding schools on the west coast."

Scene 3: Industrial Brooklyn

Zach Teeling

"Is this a gay club?" My eyes took in all the bleach blond hair, skin-tight Lycra, and leather accessories lined up at the entrance.

"It's a pop-up party," Oliver answered.

"For gay guys?"

"There's probably some gay women here too."

"Charlie...I didn't know," I said apologetically.

"I warned you," Oliver shrugged and headed toward the building.

"We can get out of here."

"No, it's okay. It could be cool," Charlie replied.

"You're just saying that."

"No, really. It's not like I'll be invited to any other parties."

"I won't get mad if you change your mind," I assured him. "And, if you get hit on, tell them we're together and I'm not into threes."

He laughed but nodded.

I don't think he will get hit on, though. He might get us thrown out.

I make myself look older whenever I go somewhere, and now Charlie looks even younger in comparison.

Oliver knows someone who knows someone that will let us in without checking I.D. So, we waited by the side of the building for a signal or something.

I was kind of hoping that one wouldn't come, but before I knew it, Oliver was anxiously dragging us through a fire exit and into the thick air of the party.

It's full of people wearing glow-in-the-dark necklaces, bracelets, or body paint you probably get at the door. The only thing remotely bright is the dance floor.

It's dark so no one will know who they're dancing with or kissing until the end of the night. No one will realize Charlie looks 10.

"I'll go flirt someone into buying us drinks," Oliver smirked, leaving us by the bar.

Charlie leaned over so I could hear him through the music. "Did you go to really cool parties all summer?"

"I stayed home a lot too...curfew and stuff so..."  I said awkwardly, not wanting to rub in the fact that I had fun ignoring his calls.

"My mom wanted me to get out of the house, so she signed me up to be a camp counselor for little kids."

"That's nice...right?"

"We can do it next summer if you want."

"For sure." Another possible lie.

"Oliver can too."

"We'd have to watch him more than the kids," I joked.

"I had geometry with him last year. I didn't know you were friends."

"We weren't. He doesn't have many school friends."

"He seems friendly," Charlie replied, genuinely.

I put a finger over my lips and shushed him with a smile. Oliver's part-time asocial act is his version of Clark Kent.

And Superman is the one returning to us with two drinks in his hands and another barely being held against his chest.

He handed me a glass and it spilled a bit onto my sleeve in the process.

"Do you dance?" Oliver asked Charlie.

"I can."

"Come on, Zach won't." He pulled him toward the dance floor that seems to be an art installation. Charlie looked at me to make sure it was okay.

"Go ahead, I've gotta get this off my jacket anyway." My mom smelled weed on me before and I blamed Peyton. Since she moved, everything falls on me now.

The people brushing past me on the way to the bathroom probably stain me with so much more, that I'll have to hide my clothes at the bottom of the hamper.

I push open the door and my body stops in the frame before I even see what froze me.

"Oh...sorry."

"Public restroom," Aaron responded.

I head to the sink farthest from the one where he's washing his hands. My eyes stay down to avoid looking at him as I dab my jacket clean with a wet napkin.

But since I talk too much for things to be so quiet-

"Didn't expect to see you here...not 'here' the bathroom, but, you know...the party."

"I can say the same to you. I didn't think you'd be into all of this."

"My friend is really into it and he drags me along. It's kinda fun," I admitted. "Are you here with Scott?"

"No." He glanced over at me. "Are you here with Evan?"

"We don't talk anymore."

"Sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"Never thought it was. I'm just sorry you liked him that much."

"I-" I shake my head.

"It's good to see that some things never change," he said to himself.

"...Like what?"

"You're still bad at relationships."

"I wouldn't say bad..."

"You can't do the easiest part. Admitting where your feelings lie."

"Who told you that was the easy part?"

"Deep," he said sarcastically. "By-"

"What'd you do this sum-" I caught myself. "Oh, bye."

"Sorry-" he started again. And for a moment— it was just uncomfortable enough for us both to laugh. "I like to swim...I don't know if you knew that. But I did a lot of swimming."

"I don't know how to swim."

Aaron chuckled. "Can't swim, can't drive."

"There's a lot more, but I'm trying to keep my dignity." I hold open the door and motion him out before me.

Oliver sees and waves me over to where he is with Charlie.

"Is that your friend?"

"Yeah."

Aaron and he continue to exchange looks, and I give them both a grossed-out one of my own.

"Bye," he said, his eyes never returning to me before he walked off.

The opposite of love is indifference. I totally get that now.

"Who was that?" Oliver said as I approach, trying to look past me for where Aaron got lost in the darkness.

"No."

"But-"

"No."

"You never let me have any fun."

Scene 4: 8th Avenue

Heather Blakely

"Hey, Heather," one of the models lightly touched my shoulder. "You did great tonight."

"Thank you, I tried." And succeeded enough to still show my face. 1.5 million to charity, and positive reviews from word of mouth.

"It was fun, right?"

"You could say that..."

"I'm Kiersten," she reached out to shake my hand. "A friend of Ethan. He said you'd be interested."

"Yes...in what exactly?"

"A pick me up," she nodded toward the dressing room.

"Uh— sure," I smiled in an attempt to seem calm, and she completely bought it.

The dressing room is occupied by only a few other models, there was news of an after-party somewhere that took most of them away along with my higher status guests.

I watched as powder was spooned out of a glass vial and sniffed up into the noses of some of the prettiest women I've ever seen.

"Do you want a bump?" Kiersten asked. "Or Lina has pills."

"...What kind?" I questioned.

She shrugged. "Speed."

"What will it do to me?"

"It'll give you a boost...energy...a spark."

Lina brings me two pills in the palm of her hand.

"Okay?" I let them fall into mine.

There was a knock at the door, and I quickly slipped them into my purse. Last I checked, my mother left, but if she didn't...

"Heather?" I hear from the other side.

"Adrian?" My feet race to the door at the sound of the familiar voice. He smiles when he sees me, and it's the most comforting thing I've felt in a long time. "I didn't think you were in the country," I said and stepped out of the dressing room while trying to block the view of what was happening inside.

"I thought I'd be back in time. I'm sorry I missed it."

"It wasn't much anyway."

"That's hard to believe." He grabbed my hand and twirls me around. "You are the dancing queen. Young and sweet. Only seventeen."

"Hush," I laughed and pushed him back.

"I missed you," Adrian said. "What have you been doing?"

"Having a terrible time." I sighed and led him to sit by a window.

No one worthwhile is still here. Stragglers such as Natalie are only left to write articles.

"Did you ever talk to that guy you like?"

"He has a girlfriend now."

"No..." Adrian said in shock.

"Yes," I shrugged. "That was definitely the universe's way of telling me it was a bad idea."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. There was a reason we didn't work out in the first place."

"Sure, but to even think about giving him another chance meant that there was something you still wanted."

"He's an idiot, and I forgot to factor that in before I thought about getting back together with him."

"His loss."

"Nothing more and nothing less," I said with a smile.

"You can fill your time with better things now."

"Sure," my eyes rolled at the thought. "Extracurriculars, shopping, and more events like this one until I'm in a university."

"Whatever stops you from becoming a coke-addicted model," he teased.

I smirked. "Don't worry. I'm not tall enough to be a model."

"Then we know what's first on your to-do list. Growing."

"The things I do to kill time."

"Get used to it." He nudged me.

"Can I get used to you being here?"

"I'll be dropping in more often since I'm missed so much."

I scoffed and shook my head. "Forget it, I've changed my mind."

"No you haven't," he said, smugly. "But I do have to go home now. I came straight here from the airport."

"You didn't have to do that."

"When Heather Blakely, fashion mogul, puts on a show— you drop everything and go."

"Thank you...you're the highlight of my night."

"So, I suppose that's saying something then," he chuckled.

"Exactly," I laughed with him.

"Good night." He moved in close, and I went for a hug, but instead, felt his lips press to mine. I almost stepped back as if it were a mistake I made, but he put his arms around my waist showing that he meant to kiss me.

There was a point during the summer when I was counting the days since I'd last been kissed. Part of me knew I'd come back here and have a reason to stop counting— I never suspected the reason would be you.

He let me go.

I kept looking at Adrian, wondering how he could be so composed and I'm reeling.

"...good night?"

He smiled. "I'm European."