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xi. What About The Fall?
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Blair Cameron felt like she was going to puke her guts out and she didn't know how to stop her stomach from hurting.
Ever since she was old enough to understand the word "carelessness", she pretended that it was her most prominent trait, like she was born nonchalant and would forever go unbothered to the things life threw her way. But just like every other good actress on her side of the island, it was just a well-orchestrated lie; Blair cared too much about what others thought, especially those who raised her, those who spent their life dedicating it to her.
Now, she was thinking about all the ways she disappointed them and how many times she'd force herself to think that it was whatever before she couldn't anymore, crumbling on her bedroom floor if she ever even made it home again. The look on her brother's face; how crushed her friends was when she picked the Pogues over them. How her legs were burning when she ran despite her lungs being full with bliss. Odd that she was tired, she was an athlete after all. But then someone took a pin to the bottom of her lungs and they deflated like balloons, and she came to the dreaded realization that she might have just fucking ruined everything.
Maybe she wasn't thinking when she picked the Pogues. Maybe, if she had to do it all over again, she would've stayed by Sarah's side and watched them disappear, simmering in self-disappointment.
But she couldn't go back. She was one of them now.
Now, she was losing herself in what was a mess of words, thoughts and a jumble of images. The flame from the fire rose, then fell again. Like a spark that died time and time again, but she kept looking at it nonetheless. She knew she was falling in the abyss, and everyone else could see it too. A gown dirty at the bottom and a cigarette between her crimson lips. And she left those lipstick stains on the edge, a perfect heart-kiss stain that JJ Maybank couldn't stop staring at. Some strands of hair stuck to it and she found herself balancing the smoke between her lips as she tried to pull them away from her face.
John B said they were back in the gold game and Blair was ready to get her hands dirty again. It was all she had now, after all. The gold to make her father proud. The gold to pay off her brother's debt; save him. She'd break her bones and let her mouth mold into words she shouldn't say, satisfaction sticky on the tip of her nose and fingers. She wondered just how heavy gold could be and how many bars she could stuff in her pockets if they ever needed to run.
She inhaled and blew out the smoke, mascara-covered lashes fluttering shut. Like an oracle materializing and sticking on the inside of JJ's aorta. And he couldn't help but wonder; what prayers do you say when God isn't watching? Because he asked for her to look at him, pathetically. He just wanted that second of intimacy again, like when they ran with their hands tied to the van and she didn't let go of it until they stopped again.
