Don't Stop The Music

- sixteen -

CHAPTER XVI

- if it's any consolation -

[Esther]

There was shouting downstairs again. Something about it was louder and more intense than normal, because even with her headphones on and the volume turned up to the maximum, Esther couldn't focus on touching up the music Robin had sent her. This was becoming more common these days, and it was definitely showing: Esther had a backlog of work to catch up on and the concert date was looming.

She gave up on writing, and switched her attention to her homework, hoping some hard thinking would take her mind off it, but she'd barely started when she heard heavy, furious footsteps pounding up the steps that led to her room. The door flung open, slamming into the wall behind it with such force it knocked a couple of books off the shelf above the desk Esther was working on.

Esther spun round sharply. Her sister kicked the door shut behind her, dumping a bunch of clothes from her bedroom that she'd hastily bundled in her arms onto the bed.

"I hate him," Ivy said, furiously. "Remember all that stuff I said about it not being possible to hate somebody? That was total bull. I think I got that from a calendar or something."

She'd said stuff like this before, but she always had that light-hearted nonchalance in her voice that indicated she wasn't being serious. This time, though, was different. The venom in her voice made Esther's blood chill.

"Ivy..."

"I don't understand, what does he get out of being a total douche all the time?" Ivy stormed, standing on Esther's bed and opening up the doors above it, revealing the small cupboard where Esther kept her bags. "Do you think he gets off on it, seeing as he's clearly not getting it from anyone else?" she continued, just ranting. "I can totally understand why, I wouldn't want to stay more than ten seconds with that douche if I could help it–"

She threw Esther's small suitcase onto the bed, and started stuffing clothes into it with angry, aggressive movements. Esther scooted her chair a little closer.

"Ivy, what are you doing?" she said, weakly. It looked like she was planning on leaving, but...she couldn't be. What had she said earlier...?

"I'm sick of this place," Ivy snapped, her voice fierce. "I'm going. I mean it this time."

"You can't leave," Esther said, standing up with such haste she knocked the chair over. "You said we'd stick together! You promised!"

"I'm sorry, Esther," Ivy said. "That asshole­ is driving me up the wall. I can't take it. Every time I come home he just lays into me, like he waits up all night just to hear me come in so he can shout. I've had it with him."

She heard an impatient rap on the door and saw Ivy tense, like a tiger ready to pounce. It had to be their dad; there was nobody else in the house.

"Just ignore it," Esther hissed, but Ivy was too fired up.

"What the fuck do you want?" she shouted at the door. "You've said enough! Why do you have to be here?"

"Ivy, you're being completely unreasonable," her dad's voice was distant behind the door, but she could hear the exasperation in his tone clearly. "Open the door and let's have a civilised discussion about this."

"I'm being fucking unreasonable?!" Ivy yelled.

"What have I said about your language?" he warned. "I won't tolerate this rudeness from you–"

"And then you want a civilised discussion," Ivy countered, resuming stuffing clothes into the suitcase. "What's the point? If I try and defend myself you say I'm arguing with you. If I disagree with one of your points I'm being rude. Why don't you just say 'This is my way of doing things and there's nothing you can do about it' and dispense with the 'civilised discussion' crap, yeah?"