Oxygen (Catfish And The Bottlemen/1975)

Fliss

"No I don't like it," I mused studying my reflection in the mirror, "I look grim," I groaned, I had a headache, the lights in the little vintage shop were too bright, I didn't feel comfortable, I wanted to go home and smoke.

"I think it looks lovely on you!" Exclaimed my mother opening the curtains so as I could step out and show my sister and brother both of whom looked just as fed up as me.
I did a little twirl, unenthusiastic jazz hands and all as I mouthed a sarcastic ta da and watched them both smirk.

"Its too long," I announced holding out the skirt, "I feel like cinderella," I groaned.

"Oh come now you're being ridiculous felicity, I think its perfect..."

"Well Rosa is the one getting married its her choice..."

"It needs to match the other dresses," shrugged Rosa my older sister, she let out a sigh, "this one doesn't match..." she said shooing me away as if to say that that was that. And I was grateful for that.

Rosa was 6 years older than me, Rowan my brother was 4 years older than me,  but growing up the gap had never seemed so prominent. It was only now that I was the only one left with any sense of a childhood that the gap seemed so far.

Rowan with his doctorate, working in a university research lab on something like the cure for Alzheimer's, Rosa with her perfect family lifestyle, the beautiful bride to be. Standing opposite those two in a less than attractive vintage dress, eyes a little dark, hair a little messier than I'd hoped it to be, I couldn't have looked anymore out of place if I'd tried.

My phone started buzzing in the changing room, when it didn't stop I felt my heart flutter with relief at the realisation that it must have been Van calling.

"Hello," i said with a smile shutting the door behind me as I stripped out of the uncomfortable gown and listened to him talking on the other end of the line to someone else about a brew.

"Alright love," he smirked knowingly, "you sound a bit..."

"Fucking done?" I asked dryly biting back a smirk when my mother knocked on the door, snapping at me for swearing.

"Was that your mam?" He chuckled on the other end of the line.

"Bridesmaid dress shopping with them, they surprised me this morning... 7am van 7 a fucking m!" I wined, he only laughed harder when my mum rapped on the door again a little louder.

"Who are you talking to Felicity, are you changed yet?!" I rolled my eyes at her endless stream of questions, she was alway mithering about something.

"Wait," gasped Van sniggering a little though he couldn't help but hide his hope, "are you..."

"Just getting changed mum!" I growled answering his question.

"So you are?" I could picture his grin at the thought that I might be less than fully closed.

"Oh shut up," I smirked though I had to admit I was enjoying winding him up. "Not entirely,"

"But a little bit..." he teased smirking away.

"What did you call for Van?" I smirked brushing my hair out of my face, struggling to wiggle back into my jeans.

"Oh yeah that..." he yawned, easily distracted apparently. "I just wanted some fresh conversation, everyone on the bus keeps asking me the same questions..."

"Yeah I know the feeling," I hummed rolling my eyes as my mum began questioning me once more, "just a mate mum,"

"Just a mate?! Just a mate?!" Gasped Van feigning offence, drawing a giggle from my lips as I rolled my eyes at the two voices coming at me from both sides.

"Felicity hurry up!"

"I didn't think anyone was allowed to call you felicity?" Teased Van trying his best to wind me up.

"Only people I despise remember,"

"Ooo harsh one,"

"If you knew you'd know..." I yawned, "do you think we could have this fresh conversation a little bit later its just that I have like ten other ugly bridesmaid dresses to try on and the sooner its over the better..." he laughed then, for quite a while. Apparently I was more entertaining than I'd first imagined.

"So long as I get a photo of the dress..." he teased, "tra...felicity," he was sniggering when he hung up the phone, my cheeks tinged pink with frustration. I'd kill him if I ever got the chance, that I was sure of.

The day dragged on, all the while the haze and the hangover from the night before hung around like a bad dream, and as the day aged I felt my body age too until I fell back on my bed completely depleted.

Downstairs Saffron was cooking something for dinner, Katie was watching Mighty Boosh with Alice and Jazz and although they had invited me to join them, I didn't feel it up to anything. There was a joint rolled for me on my pillow, Saffrons doing no doubt, but I was beginning to feel a little sick and I wasn't sure weed could help me now.

I closed my eyes, head spinning, letting out a sigh because in all the hours we'd spent shopping we hadn't found a dress for me and that meant only one thing. I was going to have to go shopping with them again.

When my phone rang I knew it would be Van, and when I picked up the phone I did my best to sound pleased to hear from him, but there was something about the weight of an oncoming comedown that made even Vans simpatico persona a little difficult to acquiesce.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He asked for a third time, perhaps I sounded tired, perhaps I sounded vacant. At this point I wasn't sure of myself at all.

"Its been a very long day,"

"Maybe you should go to bed..." he suggested though I could tell he didn't really want me to take up that offer. He was buzzing about something, I could sense him itching to tell me something amazing. I half wished he would so as I might have something to feign enthusiasm for, but for some reason he kept it to himself.

"I don't fancy it," I shrugged, "you've got enough energy for both of us anyway," I smirked, "whats going on? You written a banger or what?" He laughed at that but he didn't give me a response changing the subject quickly. He asked about Katie and Benji, he wanted to know if she'd said anything.

"Not because I want to mess or get involved or owt, I just wanna take the piss out of benji if its true... and hey, hows Saffron?" His voice changed a little then, a little more cautious, darker, a protective streak I recognised from when Jazz had asked me the same question earlier that morning. I smiled softly wrapping a curl around my finger, only wishing he'd pay a little less attention to our friends and a little more attention to us.