❝she was the girl, who bit the horizon, who peeled the stars from the sky and put them on her tongue, the girl who was hungry for the universe, who craved magic and saw the broken boy for who he truly was- a broken boy.❞
Beca...
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Chapter 23
Lost But In The Best Way
Ellis
I was trembling all over the place. I wasn't able to process everything. My uniform felt heavy on me, consuming me, sinking down on me, like lead was embossed all over my body instead of cloth. My mouth was dry and flaky, parched. I stared hard at the woman Jem escorted to me. It was my mother.
She looked better than I imagined her to look. Her skin glowed under the chandelier glimmers, her dark eyes resembled cold black marble with an edge of warmth she only reserved for people who deserved her care and her features were contorted into a mask of marginally flummoxed, an expression I knew she practised for court cases when the opposition won the case. Her bottom thin lip quivered as she perforated me with a gaze that burned holes through my waiter uniform and for once, I hated the impression I made. An image of me dropping the tray, the clams dotting my uniform unceremoniously, soy sauce bleaching into my white uniform. I would look like a mess but I wouldn't care because my mother was here. My heart stopped at the sight of her, the tumult of the ball dropping after months of wondering, questioning, contemplating and finally seeing her.
"Mum," I swallowed painfully. Marisa Lee's eyes were shimmering with wetness and I was wondering if this was going to be our Lifetime movie moment, when both of just started crying and everybody in the room stopped and stared, then burst out clapping at the touching feel-inducing second. But it didn't happen like that. They usually didn't.
I hastily placed the tray onto the nearest table and rushed over to embrace her. She didn't return the gesture but I didn't care as I buried my head into her neck, inhaling the crisp scent of her Chanel perfume, sharply cutting through my head. I didn't care if I unconsciously broke character of posing as a waitress working this event, I just wanted my mother.
"Ellis," my mother murmured into my hair, muffled, "What- what are you doing here?" she pushed me from her, releasing my coiled hold onto her, and I retreated, injured by the lack of a response, confused from why she didn't warmly receive me. She seemed startled, shaky, off-guard- understandably but I expected her to be startled and happy.
"I'm- I'm here to see you," I stammered, taken aback by the stern level she stooped upon. I thought she would be happy.
Her grip on her wrist tightened as she dragged me over to a private corner. "You can't be here," she hissed persistently, and though on the outside, she projected an air of classy nonchalance, a grace impenetrable and formidable, an Iron Lady who never fretted or freaked out, or cry or sweat in public, I could see the white lights of panic erupting in her eyes. She was perfect. But she wasn't. "Look, I know we have a lot to talk about- but, this is not the place for you to be."
I blinked, my right cheek began to throb like she just slapped me. And really, she should've because it would've hurt less. "What do you mean?" I asked, implying accusation by the tone of my voice but I didn't care. I was pissed. "Do you not want me here? After all my hard to...to look for you?"
