❝Turn your face to the sun and the shadows will fall behind you.❞
[ New Zealander Proverb ]
Epilogue: The girl with the pink lips
I SAT NERVOUSLY in Elan; an aesthetically beautiful cafe situated in Mayfair. My fingers drummed against my knee as I waited, my anxiety suddenly increasing. The weather was warm, the sun beaming outside brightly, it was a wonderful day to meet an old friend. I was apprehensive, speculating how she'd look after four months.
A part of me was disappointed that she never took the initiative to do the right thing, but I wasn't surprised, nor did I care. Leaving Harrington meant I left the responsibility of that file, therefore it no longer concerned me. Whether she'd expose the Elites, or she'd burn the last remaining evidence of their scandalous secrets, didn't matter to me.
My lips suddenly felt dry, so I hastily grabbed a compact mirror and lip gloss to tend to it. Flipping the mirror open, I delicately applied the pink stained gloss across my lips as I admired my reflection, my cheeks no longer hollow, my skin much lighter and clearer, my cerulean eyes vibrant — I looked like myself. Not Scarlett, Celeste or someone popular; I was me.
My phone buzzed on the table, catching my eyes where I read the message from my therapist about next week's session whilst I tucked my items away in a Valentino bag. When I left New York, I made the courageous decision to have a one on one with a therapist, to finally get over my grieving; I didn't comprehend how much of a toll Scarlett's death had disturbed me. Acute eating disorder, high anxiety and psychotic depression. I guess it was an eye opening.
A bell chimed, my eyes flicking in the same direction. Akari walked in gracefully: her radiant hair cut just below her shoulders, and her features looked healthier whilst her eyes twinkled perkily. She wore a pastel blue dress, adorned with nude Prada heels and purse, complimented with a simple silver necklace.
Keeping contact with Akari was a decision I had made gradually after she forgave me; I missed her and realised how much her friendship was precious to me. She had messaged me a couple days back, informing me about her layover in London and asked to meet up. With a high–pitched squeal, she rushed over to where I was sitting, besides the flower wall.
"I missed you," she exclaimed, hugging me across the table. I giggled softly, embracing her back. "Oh god, it's been ages. How are you?"
Settling into our seats, I grinned at the Japanese girl. "Great actually. I enrolled in King Alfred's and I accepted the offer in Oxford; I'm heading up there this August. I think I'm in a good place. How have you been?"
The smile she gave me reached her ears, her eyes crinkling, "I've been really good. I've been focusing a lot on my music and decided to move back to Japan this summer after I'm done travelling — there was so much I haven't seen yet. Also, after you left, I finally ended whatever me and Bentley had. It took me long to realise that he never loved me like I did him, he loved the control and game."
"I'm sorry, Akari," I murmured, sympathetically placing my hand over hers.
She shook her head; the smile never fell. "Don't be. They were going to be engaged, I wasn't going to be someone's mistress."
"I'm proud of you, Akari. I know you loved him a lot, I can't imagine how much this must've hurt."
"I think you do know," she replied oddly.
YOU ARE READING
The Elites
Teen Fiction❝Mysterious," he hummed in amusement. "I like it. Are you new then, mystery girl?❞ - High school is like a game of chess. You have to gamble the moves you make and risk the chance of checkmate. In Harrington, that isn't the case. No matter what move...
