Sunday, February 24, 2008

sour cherries

When were things going to get better? Yes, there was Beth and Gilly and now marriage. Made Rhys sick to his stomach. And yes, there was a little bit of a smile on his face that Beth had found out about Mercedes. Just it wasn't as much fun as he hoped it would have been.

Fun? What was that, anyway?

All he could depend on lately was the Libertine, Sasha's kitten, to to liberate him from this whole ordeal that was sucking in to the worst possible place in Hollyoaks. His room.

He knew Gilly was a bad choice. Bad. Just bad. Bastard.

Of course, if he dwelled on each thought rolling around in his noggin, he knew who the real bastard was. Himself.

He told the Libertine everything. How he felt about Beth. How he'd never ever find that kind of natural love again. He didn't think. Anyway.

He was so depressed. And then to see Josh who was suppose to be the son of all depression to have some awakening of some kind. Well, that depressed him even more. What was up with his brother?

When you were Rhys Ashworth you had a reputation to attend to. You were obligated to keep on being the man of the hour at the pub. Of course, his father kept insisting he was still a boy with out any real life skills.

Life was all he had skills for. He was sure. And now he had to snuggle with a cat just to keep from going completely bonkers. He was in a mere melt down. All was horrible in the world. Just horrible. Beth still wanted him. He still wanted her. Why, why did he have to be so selfish in this endeavor to only think of himself and his needs?

He was getting down right needy these days, and that alone was getting to Rhys. But still there was the cat. The kitten purred. The furry white feline loved him unconditionally.

Finally, though in all his pondering in his room, he noticed the note on the floor under his door that he'd probably stepped on a million times, already. His sneaker print was all over the white sheet.

He was sure Beth was sending him an invitation to meet her somewhere. Well, he'd show her, he was the stronger one. He'd have to be.

But once he unfolded it, he saw that it wasn't anything from her at all.

"Huh." Interesting. He'd gotten something from Sasha.

Dear Rhys,

What is the point of putting dear in front of your name, you really are a shitty friend, indeed. But just the same, I can't help myself but leave one little note for you.

By the time you read this, possibly, I'll be on my way to France. That is if I find Gaspard, and we decide to live there. A doubtful fairytale, but who knows.

Things are quite in the crapper at home. Calvin is a butthead. Fletch, might as well be one too. He still thinks I'm quite boring in spite of all that I've done for him. And it hasn't helped much that dear Daddy has decided to get on with the school.

My life is a mess. I can no longer be a big sister. I never intended to play the part. Perhaps Lauren will be just as well with out me. I have to go. I just have to. And what does this mean to you? Possibly and probably nothing.

Its just you have or you were a good mate to me. You listened to me like no one has in a very long time. And I'm grateful for that. I'm sorry I kissed you. Truly, sorry. Because deep down you're a mate. Not a lover. I have one of those already. Gaspard. And god knows, just how many you have.

Truly, I did enjoy the pleasure of your company. I just thought you should know.

Once a mate always a mate.



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