Hard Rock Love Box Set, page 23
Sebastian had been hanging out with her and Rebecca more often and the three would go on triad dates from time to time, whenever he wasn’t busy with his schedule. Apparently, summer was high time for lawyers and there was always a case he had to be working on. The three of them would be on a patio somewhere, chugging back drinks, laughing at some joke Rebecca made, and Lillian would relish in the time they spent together.
It was times like these where Lillian had a glimpse of the naivety she felt before she met Ash, before she was pulled into a whirlwind of roller coaster love.
When she had pictured heartbreak, she had pictured something dramatic. She had pictured him becoming too much for her, becoming bored of her, leaving her to cry in the trail of his motorcycle exhaust as he zoomed off to chase the bright lights of stardom.
She hadn’t pictured a sudden break, an unresponsiveness, a change that no one could expect. She hadn’t expected Sebastian to come back either, and certainly not as a friend. But here she was, and things were the way they were, and she supposed that it had to be for a reason. She turned back to her friends sitting in front of her now, Sebastian and Rebecca rising a toast, “to friendship!” as she ‘clinked’ her glass in between them.
Lillian could feel the heartbreak leaving her, she could feel the process allowing her to let go and move on, the grips of infatuation loosening its claws. She took one last sigh of relief, and in appreciation of the moment, put everything behind her.
“I’m actually excited for this,” Rebecca said, turning to Lillian and handing her the guide. They had been planning this hike for a long time now and Lillian decided to follow through with the plans. Saranac Lake was a 31-mile hike up, with what Lillian heard; was an amazing view.
After everything that the two friends had gone through, a girl’s trip was definitely something they were both looking forward to.
“Thanks for coming with me Becca, doing this thing alone wouldn’t have been the same.”
She wanted to convey her gratitude for having such an amazing companion in her life.
“This will be as fun for me as it will be for you.” Rebecca tossed Lillian a quick wink, almost
a little flirtatiously.
The two girls made it up the mountain, slowly, admiring all of the greenery surrounding them along the way. Getting away from the land-locked streets of the busy city was as much underappreciated as it was brushed over. But being in nature reminded the both of them that this was necessary, to connect back to Mother Earth, and to be back in nature where they primally belonged.
At the very top, lost from breath, Lillian stood over the landscape overlooking the horizon. She reminded herself of her past goals, her past self, and her present self, remembering that all she really had was this moment now. She took a deep breath in, telling herself, “I’m ready for a new beginning.”
Twenty-Seven
Lillian groaned, head in her hands, she was staring at the blank document on her computer screen. Crumpled up post-it notes in various colors were scattered around her desk. She could feel a headache coming on from the lack of caffeine in her system.
She hated admitting that her fling with Ash Bennett, the lead singer of Dreams of Compass Gods, may have kickstarted her career—although to her it seemed like more than just a fling—at times she still felt a little hurt that it was over. But now, she was worried that that fling may also be what is effectively ending her career.
After all, where in the world was she supposed to come up with images as evocative as the ones she took of Ash when she was falling in love with him?
All she ever wanted was to become a photojournalist, and now all she could worry about was that maybe she just wasn’t cut out for it. If she couldn’t get past this little roadblock, did she really have the right to call herself a photographer? Her pen rhythmically tapped against her desk as she tried to think of more ideas and concepts. Her editor wanted another photo story in the next issue, and after her last few flopped, she knew that she was on thin ice.
Really Lillian? A new dog park opening? Did you seriously think that that would be powerful enough for our audience? I’ve come to expect more of you. She could hear the voice of her editor, so disappointed, so disapproving. Was it all just a fluke?
She glanced up at the clock next to her computer and cursed to herself silently in frustration. It was getting late and staying at the office past 10 was absurd; no matter how desperate she was for the muse of inspiration to strike. With a sigh, she packed up her laptop and camera, scraping the discarded ideas into the trash, hopefully a full night’s rest would bring her more productivity in the morning.
After locking up the office, Lillian ordered a ride home on her phone, knowing it was far too late at night to be walking. Keeping aware of her surroundings, she waited for her car to arrive, distracting herself with the hustle and bustle of sleepless New York. She knew she would be okay, the part of town she was in was usually as safe during the nighttime as it was during the day. And suddenly—a something off in the distance lit up an idea lightbulb above her head.
There was a smallish theatre not too far from her building, a building that was host to amateur ballet recitals. There must’ve been a show that night because the building was lively and Lillian could see and hear ballerinas laughing, coming and going around the corner. Lillian was fascinated as she observed them…with their hair tied up, large sweatshirts covering up their dance attire, and plain tennis shoes to top it all off.
One of them was running ahead of the others, twirling and leaping in a display of talent and joy. The others seemed to egg her on, then joining her in showing off what they could do, seeming to Lillian like lithe fawns in the forest—all long legs, wide eyes, wet noses and innocent suppositions.
There was something about the display that was both fiercely intimate and passionate; her first instinct was that it would make a lovely photograph.
Then it hit her.
The idea was so simple—and it had been lingering in the back of her mind for so long, but she had pushed it away every time it dared come to the surface, too afraid of what it might mean.
Go back to her roots, she thought. Go back to what had done so well for her in the first place. But that didn’t have to mean going back to Ash. That didn’t mean documenting small-time rock stars or falling in love with them.
No; more than anything, it meant performance. It meant passion. It meant capturing the raw and intimate moments of people who devoted their lives to existing in a way that was so public—to perform in front of an audience.
It meant exposing these kinds of moments, and everything else that happened when nobody was watching, when they weren’t trying to entertain, as well as the sheer talent and charisma that they held, standing on a stage in front of a crowd.
It was something worth considering, and certainly something worth bringing up to her editor. Lillian pulled a pad of paper and a pen out from her purse, hastily scribbling down her thoughts so that they wouldn’t fly away from her in the wind like dandelion seeds.
It was a cool, crisp morning in New York, and Bella was alone in her apartment. She was picking out a song from her music library, feeling the vibe envelop her as she began stretching her body. She had settled on a slow melodic jazz number, one that was relaxing and mellow. It felt good, to relieve the tension in her muscles and to push herself to new heights of achievement. She knew that if she kept working at this stuff on her own, late into the night, she’d reach her goals by the end of the year. After all, she’d gotten this far already.
Feeling sufficiently loose, she sat back down at her desk and pulled out her sketchbook, along with some fabric samples, referencing her designs as she began to create embellished samples. Bella had worked for a while as a costume designer in several smaller ballet theatres back on the west coast, moving as the work came to her, grateful for the support of her parents that allowed her to follow her dreams.
Eventually her talent had been recognized, and now she worked at the costume shop for the New York City Ballet Company as a seamstress, applying embellishments and making final fits for the dancers.
But now, her dream was to work her way up to becoming a designer, to contribute her creative ideas to the process instead of just being a sidekick. She wanted to be the mastermind behind the designs, the one who brought her masterpieces to life.
As she became more transfixed in her work, she felt her phone buzz—at first, she decided to just ignore it, too focused on the beading that she was currently trying to perfect. But then the thought flashed through her mind that it might be Sebastian.
She could feel her insides churn with warmth at the thought—though it wasn’t the warmth of love—nor was it infatuation—but it was the warmth of sexual desire.
Her relationship with Sebastian had been much less confusing for a while now, ever since they had a talk on where things were going. When they next met he sat her down to talk with her. At first, she thought that maybe he was going to tell her that it was over, that whoever he was in love with had finally come back to him. But instead he was completely honest with her for the first time since they met. He told her that he could probably never feel any feelings for her other than lust, not as long as he still had feelings for someone else.
Since then, the nature of their relationship changed. They pretended less. They were more open and accepting of each other’s needs, of each other’s space and privacy. Sebastian was often busy with his work during the daytime, so most of the time they would meet in the evening, and for only one purpose.
Sex.
She hadn’t heard from him in a few days, and so as her phone buzzed again with another text, she wondered if perhaps it was Sebastian, finally giving into his desires.
With a shallow breath, she flipped her phone over.
Come over.
It was a simple text, commanding, provocative. And she hated the fact that it turned her on.
He had so much sexual power over her that he could seduce her with just two words. Sebastian knew which role to play, he knew the buttons to press to turn her on.
Though, of course, that would be the only power he would ever have over her. This exploitation was merely one that allowed her to move forward. Her needs were met, and the commitment was low, allowing her to focus completely on her own future and where she wanted to be in the world.
With a smile, she set her handwork aside and sent a quick text.
On my way.
It was late at night when Lillian entered the shared apartment. Rebecca, her roommate, was in the living room, still awake from worrying about Lillian. She’d been working all night on her knitting orders for her Etsy shop. Orders were taking off, rolling in for all sorts of designs. Her chunky embroidered scarfs were by far the most popular, and it was one of those that she was currently working on now, while binge-watching Golden Girls.
“How was work?” she asked, as Lillian set down her bag and flopped down on the couch. She looked about ready to pass out right then and there, and Rebecca couldn’t say she would blame her. For one thing, the couch that her stepbrother, Sebastian, bought her when she moved in was incredibly comfy. And she knew that Lillian had been having a hard time of things lately.
“It was terrible,” Lillian replied, her voice muffled as she pressed her face into one of the lop-sided pillows Rebecca made in her brief bout with sewing.
“You could always work for me; we could stay home all day and watch whatever we want. Orders are getting busy enough that I think I might need the extra help.”
“No thanks, I think I may have just had a breakthrough.”
“Wow, is the thought of working with me really that bad?” Rebecca teased.
“No.” Lillian rolled over onto her back. “I just did some thinking on the way home.”
“And?”
“I think I need to go back to what worked for me.”
If Rebecca had something in her mouth at that moment, she would have choked.
“Excuse me? You can’t mean going back to your ex-boyfriend.”
“No, no, I think we both know that that ship has sailed and there’s no turning back now.”
“Okay, then what were you thinking?”
“Performance. Passion. A front-view and backstage look at some other New York City performers. Maybe ballet, maybe something else, we’ll see what my editor thinks.”
“Well, definitely sounds much better than the dog park.”
“Hey! It was a current event.”
“That literally nobody needed photographed. Sure, the dogs may have been cute, and your photos would be incredible as always, but at this point, everyone knows you can do better than that.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true.”
Sometimes Rebecca would wonder if her way of supporting Lillian was the most helpful. Her brand of love was both teasing and soft, but she didn’t always know what it was that her roommate needed in these types of moments.
She knew exactly what creative blocks felt like, being somewhat of an artist herself.
But there were always ideas flowing out of her, always a drive to create, even if the things she made weren’t always the best. She wasn’t in the public eye though, she got to choose the work that she displayed, and even then, she worked for herself—not for anyone else.
Rebecca couldn’t find the means to reconcile Lillian’s feelings, including what might be helpful for her. All she knew was how to create and keep creating; how to find that ‘aha!’ moment and then put in the effort to make it come to life.
“You should get some rest,” Rebecca said, patting Lillian on the shoulder. “You’ll think even better in the morning.”
“Aren’t you going to go to sleep?”
“I’ve still got some stuff to do, and this episode is about to finish,” Rebecca answered, lifting up her knitting as explanation. “My orders are backlogged.”
“Congratulations,” Lillian replied, sitting up and yawning, throwing her arms over her head. “I’m going to go to bed then, don’t stay up too late.”
“You should learn to take your own advice,” Rebecca teased, watching as Lillian stumbled off to her bedroom, almost forgetting to take her bag with her. Sometimes, she worried about her, but less so after seeing she could handle herself after a breakup.
She knew that Lillian had her feelings in check, and on top of that, she was asking for less and less help lately. But no matter how strong someone was—true strength was knowing it was still okay accepting help from others.
Sebastian rarely came to pick Bella up anymore, but he always paid for her cab fare and met her down in the parking lot to take her up to his apartment. She would tell herself that at least he was a gentleman to her in some ways, or at least; that it shouldn’t matter.
She was waiting there now, knowing he should be down any minute, watching the elevator door in anxious expectation. When the doors finally revealed him, she smiled, and he smiled back in return, beckoning her into the small space.
His smile was a warm one. It made her think of how lucky she was to have found someone like him to engage in this type of relationship with. She had no doubt that when this all ended, it would end cordially, because, after all, these things all came to an end one way or another.
“You look wonderful tonight,” he said, his voice soft as he drew her close to him in the elevator and kissed her mouth gently. His arms grabbed her around the waist, and their interaction was just the prequel to the sexual satisfaction they knew they were about to experience. She thought to herself that if anyone saw them together like this, they would merely think that they were lovers.
“Thank you, so do you,” she replied, trailing a hand down his chest, looking up into his eyes with what she knew was a seductive look.
He kissed her again, leaning into her with a gentle passion, the roughness of his grip on her body made her come alive. The sturdiness of his body made her feel small, little, fragile.
The elevator doors opened, and the two of them made their way to his apartment, not yet breaking contact. Sebastian guided her to the couch and pushed her down before standing back to slip off his jacket and tie, looking down at her with utmost passion and desire.
The two of them had gone through this dance enough times to know how it went, to not need to look where they were going, as not to stumble through any unfamiliar terrain. She could probably walk through his apartment blindfolded—though now that she thought about it, she technically had. Though they may have developed a routine, Sebastian didn’t allow things to become stagnant or boring, always finding little ways to make things new and intriguing.
Apparently though, tonight he didn’t have any such plans.
Bella drew him back to her, pulling him down on the couch as he let out a low noise from the back of his throat. He kissed her neck as she unbuttoned his shirt, gasping as he hit a particularly tender and pleasurable spot, her fingers fumbled over his buttons.
He knew to allow just the right amount of teasing, letting Bella pull his shirt off without too much trouble, he smiled down at her as she discarded it. He was working kisses down her neck, peppering little hot spots of passion along her collarbone, biting her shoulder lightly to elicit a pleased gasp, and then he pulled down the straps of her dress.
“So sexy…you dressed up just for me?” he tilted his head to let a slicked-back piece of hair fall over his face, flashing her a sultry smirk. He was definitely making more of a statement than a question as he uncovered the red, lacy bra she was wearing—one of the sets he knew he had purchased for her recently.
“Of course, always.” Her hands met his jawline, turning his attention back to her face, looking up at him with a simpering sweet smile.
She gently brought his head down to kiss her, enjoying the feeling of his lips against her own as she teased his tongue, nipping at his bottom lip and smiling against him.
