Chapter Text
The cold flakes in the ashtray were how she treated the love she could have had. She burnt it and left the ashes to become cold. Should she have fought harder? No. He had a son, a child to care for. Pushing him away made it easier. It’s for the better. For both of them.
The night enveloped the empty football pitch, its tranquil presence shattered by the flicker of a lighter in Rebecca's hand.
A faint glow emanated from the tip of the cigarette clutched tightly between her trembling fingers as if the ember mirrored the flickering embers of hope within her weary soul.
Smoke curled and swirled around her, creating an ethereal dance, intertwined with her thoughts and fears. Each inhale held a bittersweet allure, providing a temporary respite from the unrelenting ache that plagued her heart. The wisps of smoke embraced her, offering solace in their ephemeral existence as if they understood the turmoil that haunted her mind.
Her eyes, once sparkling with joy, now reflected a profound melancholy. The ashtray beside her was a graveyard of discarded cigarette butts, a tangible testament to her internal struggles. She had become intimately acquainted with the allure of nicotine, finding fleeting solace in each drag, as if the act of exhaling smoke was a small release from the heavy burdens that threatened to consume her. She missed him so much. The smile. The accent. Everything.
The scent of smoke permeated her clothes and hair, clinging to her like a tangible reminder of her pain. Each flickering ash marked another moment lost, another fragment of herself, of what they could have been surrendered to the darkness. And yet, in the paradoxical nature of her existence, the act of smoking provided her with a temporary illusion of control, a semblance of peace amidst the chaos.
In the bleachers of the club, she found herself amidst the whispers of nostalgia. The vacant seat beside her seemed to embody the void that lingered in her heart, Ted.
Right here she begged him to think it through one more time, to stay.
Unbeknownst to Rebecca, Roy had also found himself in the stillness of the football pitch, a silent observer of her private ritual. Intrigued yet concerned, he approached her cautiously, the distant glow of the cigarette casting a dim light on their encounter.
"I didn't know you smoked." Roy ventured, his deep, growling voice laced with a gentle curiosity.
Rebecca's eyes sparkled with a touch of mischief, her words slightly slurred. "Ah, Kent, there is a lot you don’t know about me.”
Her movements unsteady, she fumbled with the pack of cigarettes in her hand, finally managing to extract one with a victorious smirk. She held it up.
“Care for a puff?"
Roy’s brow furrowed, his concern deepening as he noticed the telltale signs of her tipsiness.
"Rebecca, have you been drinking?"
She leaned back on the bleachers, a wry smile playing on her lips. "Oh, just a few glasses of wine. Helps take the edge off. We all had a long day. Speaking of, what are you still doing here?"
Roy placed a hand on the seat next to Rebecca, pulling it down, so he could sit next to her. This made her entire body tense up. Just a few weeks ago he, her Ted, had occupied that seat. Oh, how she wished she had taken the almost empty bottle of wine standing on the coffee table in her office with her.
“Keeley forgot her laptop charger in her office. Told her I’d get some fresh air while I wait.”
Rebecca continued looking out onto the pitch, only acknowledging his answer with a slight nod of her head. They remained silent, staring into the darkness for what felt like an eternity. She took a long drag from her cigarette trying to avoid the memories floating back to her, blowing out the smoke with an air of defiance.
“You know those things kill you, right?”
Rebecca let out a husky laugh, her words laced with biting sarcasm.
"Oh, spare me the lecture, Roy. We all have our vices, and this happens to be mine.”
A buzz and the light coming from Roy’s phone cut through the tension like a knife. He looked at the glowing display for a second and got up, the seat reversing to its former position with a slight thud.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Rebecca.”
She looked up at him, her smile not quite reaching her eyes, and gave him her usual two-finger salute.
“Good night, Kent.”
He mirrored the gesture and left, eager to join his girlfriend in the car park.
The car engine hummed softly as Keeley gripped the steering wheel, while Roy settled into the passenger seat. His presence exuded a mix of nonchalance and intrigue.
"Fuuck." He let out a deep breath. “You won't believe what I just saw.” Roy mused, his voice tinged with a dry wit.
Keeley glanced at him, curiosity etched across her face. "What happened?" she inquired, her voice laced with anticipation.
Roy's lips curled into a sly smile, his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief. “Rebecca. Our elegant, sophisticated Rebecca,” he began, his words dripping with irony, “was perched on the bleachers, a cigarette dangling between her fingers.”
Keeley's eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and disbelief coursing through her veins. "You're joking, right?" she interjected, searching Roy's expression for any hint of jest.
Roy shook his head. "Wish I was, Keeley. But there she was, tipsy as can be, smoke swirling around her. It was like seeing a unicorn in a tracksuit."
A wry smile tugged at Keeley's lips as she tried to envision the surreal image. "Well, that's something you don't see every day," she remarked, amusement lacing her voice.
Roy nodded, his tone carrying a touch of bemusement. "That's an understatement. It was like witnessing a parallel universe."
Silence settled between them for a moment, the sound of the car making its way through the streets of London punctuating their thoughts. Keeley leaned back in her seat, contemplating the significance of what Roy just told her.
“Is she okay?” she finally asked, her voice betraying a hint of concern beneath the playful banter.
Roy looked out of the window onto the street, a flicker of genuine worry in his eyes. “I don’t fucking know, Keeley. There was something off about her, like she was hiding behind a wall of smoke and alcohol. But you know her, she's a master at keeping her emotions concealed."
Keeley nodded, her gaze fixed on the windshield. “I’ll try to talk to her. Thanks for telling me.”
Rebecca. The encounter with Roy had left Keeley unsettled, worried about her friend's well-being. She resolved to reach out to Rebecca the next day, hoping to offer support and unravel the mysteries shrouding her troubled soul.
Meanwhile, Rebecca stumbled into her house, the weight of the night clinging to her like a heavy fog. The dimly lit room seemed to spin as she fumbled for the light switch, finally illuminating the space. As the harsh brightness filled the air, a familiar mix of regret and pounding headache washed over her. It had become something like a ritual, stumbling up the stairs to her front door at night.
She collapsed onto the couch, the remnants of the night's misadventures swirling in her mind. A fragmented memory of alcohol and cigarettes played on a loop, intermingling with the faint echo of Roy's voice. It felt like shards of a broken mirror, reflecting a distorted image of her reality.
At that moment, her phone vibrated. The room spun and her eyelids grew heavy, Rebecca considered just ignoring the noise. But what if it is him? No, he hadn’t reached out to her in weeks. However, the possibility still remained. She took her phone out of her bag, the bright screen blinding her for a second before her eyes adjusted to the light. No. It was definitely not him. Six new messages.
The Devil
Hope it was worth it. The Sun, tomorrow.
5 Images
Her fingers trembled as she clicked on the first of the images. One second later her phone hit the hardwood floor in her living room, glass cracking and spreading across the wooden planks.
There she was walking out of the club, swaying dangerously, her cigarette and the emptied bottle of wine still in her hands. It must have been taken earlier this week. Surely, she hadn’t seen any photographers, but how would she know? She doesn't remember much these days. She tried to steady herself by holding on to the sofa, No. This couldn’t be happening. How did he-
Tears started to stream down her face as she collapsed onto the floor. Rebecca immediately succumbed to the weight of exhaustion and the numbing effects of the alcohol in her system. With a final sigh, she closed her eyes, surrendering herself to the embrace of sleep.