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Assistant: Title: Hello Darlin’
        Author: Walkingdownadarkalley Walkingdownadarkalley 
        Chapter: 1/14 
        Summary: It all started when Powder put up a wedding invitation on the fridge.I asked her not to mention Caitlyn, yet she openly recalls old stories and memories in a fond manner, a way to tease me. Each one is a stab to the heart, but over the years the pain numbed down to a dull, muted ache.ORSeveral years after a break up and zero communication, Vi gets a sudden invite to her ex’s wedding in London. Powder encourages her to go, but Vi isn’t sure she’s ready to see Caitlyn after things ended badly.
        Contents: Chapter 1: The Invitation
    

    


  

  
  
    
    
  It all started when Powder put up a wedding invitation on the fridge.
 
  I have no idea if it was on purpose, and to this day I still haven’t fully been able to deduce if it was a wonderful coincidence or another one of my sister’s painfully articulate schemes she so often pulled on me. But whatever the reason, that morning I faintly recall Powder yelling that she was going to get the mail. I returned to the front room, a living room to the left, a kitchen to the right, and the front door right in front of me emerging from the hallway. There I saw Powder had returned and was digging for something in the cupboard under the sink, mumbling. However, I disregarded that and took another swig out of the milk carton I stole from inside the fridge only a few moments earlier.
 
  I was still sweaty from a morning workout in the basement, and planned on showering before starting my day. Powder made some sort of distasteful comment on my smell and I wiped my brow, flicking the sweat I collected at her in revenge. This resulted in a shrill scream of disgust and anger before she sprinted off to her room. 
 
  To that I only laughed.
 
  But it was when I turned to put the milk away, did I see it.
 
  The wedding invitation. 
 
  It was pretty and white, lined with what looked like real, small pearls on a border of delicate lace. Cursive adorned the front of it, two names big and prominent. And usually, such a thing wouldn’t make me think twice, as it wasn’t abnormal to leave mail on our fridge. Bills, appointment reminders, Powder’s school newsletter, bank info, a grocery list sometimes too. However, one of the names written there suddenly brought back a huge flood of emotion I hadn’t realized I was holding back for all those years. My face flushed red with bottled up fury, and I cannot recall what I did with the milk carton, as I didn’t return it to the fridge and instead ran back downstairs to let out my aggression on my punching bag for the second time that morning. 

  …
 
  
    Save the date!
  

  
    We happily invite you to celebrate the union of:
  
 
  
    Victoria Thomas
  

  
    &
  

  
    Caitlyn Kiramman
  
 
  
    Friday, April 12th, 20xx.
  

  
    146 Shimmering Blvd. 
    — 
    London, UK. 
    — 
    14:00.
  

  
    Reception to follow.
  
 
  
    RSVP at your earliest convenience. 
  
 
  …



  It was an utter disaster that day. I hate to relive it, the events just passing through my mind like a hurricane, threatening to pick me up only to slam me back down again.
 
  When the sun rose that morning, I had woken up to an empty bed. I felt the spot next to mine, it was still slightly warm, and I groaned as I turned over to find Caitlyn missing, along with her phone that usually stayed on her nightstand. I merely yawned, not alarmed, and my suspicions of where she disappeared to were confirmed a moment later. I heard the pop of our toaster, then the beep of our coffee maker, and finally I heard her voice. 
 
  As I swung my feet over the edge of my side, I scratched my bedhead, undoubtedly making it worse. But I didn’t care. I yawned again and stretched, making my way from the bedroom into our kitchen. As I had thought, there were already two plates set up on our small kitchen island, and an excitedly frantic woman (trying not to burn her fingers in trying to take the toast from the toaster) was talking on the phone. She succeeded as she noticed me and smiled, and when she paused in talking to listen to the other person, she leaned over to peck my cheek. Even in a rushed manner it made me feel warm, and I returned her smile, taking the toast from her to transfer it to a plate from a paper towel. 
 
  I sat, buttered my toast, eyed the fruit and scrambled eggs also there, and glanced back up at Caitlyn. It wasn’t uncommon for her to be on the phone often, as she got many calls throughout the day from a myriad of people. Some were her parents, others being colleagues, while the rest seemed to be a mixture of the random. But she took every one. I watched in silence as her phone was squished between her ear and shoulder. Caitlyn flawlessly poured two cups of coffee like this, having much practice from over the years. Just as she placed mine down in front of me and hers at her own plate, did her conversation end and she finally beeped the call to a finish. 
 
  “Sorry about that,” she smiled, once again leaning to kiss me, but on the lips this time. It was a ritual every morning I happily accepted. “Good morning, my dear,” she murmured, keeping close to me for a moment before taking a seat. 
 
  My eyes followed her. “Well, good morning to you too, cupcake.”
 
  She scoffed at the nickname, although one would think she’d be used to it by now. I had called her that before I even knew her name, when we met in college. It was my way of messing with her, while also testing the flirtatious waters. I could easily tell what kind of person she was just by her reaction to a complete stranger teasing her. She had responded how I expected, confused and with a furrowed brow. She called me an 
  
    imbecile 
  
  and called my jeer 
  
    uncreative and preposterous.  
  
 
  I hadn’t known she was English until she insulted me, but that only drew me in more, charmed by her odd choice of fancy words and disdain for me already. She was a high strung student, and the challenge of breaking that mold morbidly fascinated me. When she refused to give me her name, I concluded that I guess I’d have to keep calling her cupcake. To that, she hurriedly spat out her name, wanting to prevent that. But I evilly smiled, never actually letting it go. 
 
  Now she just accepted it, still playfully getting mad at me in certain situations.
 
  “What was that about?” I asked, taking a rather large sip of my morning coffee. I didn’t care that it burnt my tongue. 
 
  She looked ready to pounce at that question, happily speaking as soon as she could. 
 
  “It’s spectacular news, Violet, really,” she beamed. “That was Mel.”
 
  “Medarda?” Caitlyn nodded to my inquiry. “She’s the secretary at your alma mater right?”
 
  “Yes!” she almost cut me off, and I chuckled at her obvious child-like glee. 
 
  “Alright, crazy lady, calm down now before you fall off the stool.” My hand reached out to grab her forearm and give her a comforting squeeze. She let out a breath that looked like she was holding and she giggled at herself too. “Can’t have a cupcake fall on the floor– what a 
  
    mess 
  
  that’d be.”
 
  She swatted at me with a stink eye and bite of her eggs, her lovely lips still grinning around the fork. And once she swallowed, she continued.
 
  “She called to let me know that Headmaster Heimedinger is stepping down and won’t be returning in the fall.”
 
  “
  
    Finally
  
  ,” I snorted, looking down at my food as I continued to eat. “Guys like a million years old...”
 
  “Which means the position is open,” Caitlyn wasn’t even facing her food, instead looking at me. “And she offered me the job.”
 
  My head snapped up. “What?”
 
  “I know!” she squealed. “Isn’t it wonderful? To be the headmistress at my 
  
    very own university…”
  
 
  She had a wistful expression, looking off into the distance like she could see something else entirely. She mumbled a few other drabbles of memories from her uni days, watching as if she could see them replaying right in front of her eyes. And I was happy for her. I was. It was sudden, excellent, and very surprising news. She always considered it a pipe dream to actually be a headmistress, nevermind of her very own school. And here it was, happening. But despite that happiness I felt, panic swarmed my gut, immediately. Like, 
  
    immediately
  
  .
 
  “Caitlyn, that’s–” 
 
  I don’t think she intentionally meant to cut me off, caught up in her hysteria. She was a rather smart woman, and I was certain the same thoughts I was having would eventually cross her mind, but I needed to speak them 
  
    now
  
  , anxiety suddenly traveling to my chest. However Caitlyn was caught up in a daydream of childhood nostalgia and a feeling of accomplishment. 
 
  “She said I had until Monday to decide,” she blissfully sighed, but then suddenly caught my bewildered and anxious stare. “Violet? Darling, what’s wrong?”
 
  “You were offered a job..” I managed to choke out finally; there was a pause of silence between her words and mine. “...in London.”
 
  Her own eyes widened in realization and her face was soon to follow in a flush, making her pale.
 
  “
  
    London
  
  , Caitlyn,” I said again, and she quickly went and sn@tched my hand in hers. “I mean.. That’s.. That’s thousands of miles away…! Are you seriously considering taking it? I-I thought we were on track– I mean… We just signed the lease–”
 
  “Violet, Violet–” She gently tried to stop my yammering, also taking a hold of one side of my face. She knew all too well how quickly I could spiral out of control. “Please, it’s okay… try not to get all worked up…”
 
  “But– but–”
 
  “I know,” Caitlyn shushed me, and I couldn’t help but lean into her warm touch, entranced by the soft glow of her blue eyes. “I understand… I’m sorry for getting ahead of myself, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
 
  “No, no, I mean…” I sighed, sinking further into her touch when she started to rub her thumb back and forth across my cheek. “You 
  
    love
  
   your university…You still wear their sweatshirt for God’s sake.”
 
  Pitifully, she gave me a small grace of an upward turn on her lips. Caitlyn removed her hand from my face as I moved to straighten my posture, yet I didn’t let her take her other hand back, intertwining our fingers together. I closed my eyes, my eyebrows down in problem-solving mode and in somewhat irritation, but I attempted to prevent further outbursts. Taking a moment, I breathed, and when I opened my eyes again her beautiful face was once more before me. 
 
  “I just…” I started, weakly, but I tried again. “We did long distance before, and it killed me… Caitlyn, I can’t go more than a few days without you before I start going crazy. I-I don’t know what we’d do if you decided–” but I didn’t let myself finish, shaking my head. “But I don’t want you to say no just because of me.. I couldn’t possibly ask you to stay– choosing this before your career... It's selfish.”
 
  “
  
    No
  
  —
  
    !
  
   No, it’s not selfish,” Caitlyn corrected eagerly. “My love… I wish we didn’t have to face this… in a perfect world there wouldn’t be dilemmas such as this, don’t you think? It’s simply not fair… not fair to you.”
 
  “Caitlyn…”
 
  “Nothing is written in stone yet,” she said, voice suddenly strong. “I still haven’t the 
  
    faintest 
  
  idea what I’m going to do. If you could… allow me some time to think? I’ll call Mel again. Maybe an answer will appear clearer the more information we have.”
 
  I hesitated, but then I nodded, directing my gaze to the floor. 
 
  “Alright,” I softly said, almost in a whisper. “Yeah… please, think all you like, make a decision and leave me out of it— we can figure out where to go from there.”
 
  “But,” she sounded almost helpless. “I can’t possibly leave you out of it— Violet, I can’t live a day without you either.” 
 
  She somehow seemed nearer, and I was swarmed with an overwhelming urge to pull her close. So I did exactly that. I never minded the awkward position of us both being on stools and wrapped my arms around her back. Caitlyn immediately responded by throwing her arms over my shoulders and perching her chin there, clinging tight. I wanted to remain strong here, for her, and I always wanted all of her dreams to come true. But without her in my life, something about me would just be missing. Long distance is a killer of relationships, 
  
    or so they say
  
  , and it’s not like I didn’t have faith, but I was simply terrified. Terrified of losing her when I couldn’t do anything about it.
 
  We’d 
  
    both 
  
  be miserable, I know that much for certain. 
 
  “Try your best.. take your time…” I breathed. “We’ll figure this out. It’ll be 
  
    okay
  
  .”
 
  The shaking in my voice at the sudden news betrayed me. A swarm of horror at the potential distance mixed ugly with the proud feeling for Caitlyn, and the happiness I had in her getting this opportunity. 
 
  Keeping her in a tight embrace, I temporarily forgot an obvious solution.
 
  .
 
  
    “VIIIII–!”
  
 
  Powder snapped me from my thoughts, and I was in my basement again. I could hardly breathe, the feeling of sweat pouring down my spine making me squirm as I realized I had been going at the punching bag a little too hard. My gloves were askew on the floor, as it seemed I didn’t bother to put them back on in my sudden outburst. It explained the burning pain in my knuckles, despite them being carefully wrapped still. 
 
  I didn’t answer Powder, having been so deep in a memory that it took me more than just a moment to recuperate. She knew where I was anyways, being that if I wasn’t in my room, I was in the basement. More often than not the latter, and only seconds after she screamed my name did she appear on the steps, rushing down in agitation.
 
  “What did you do with the milk?” she accused, staring me down from a few steps up. “Come clean it up you feral animal.”
 
  She was ribbing me, but I had no capacity to respond.
 
  “What.. the f@ck.. Was that.. On the fridge?” Still panting heavily, I pushed out these words, eyebrows furrowed, and clearly not in the mood to volleyball back Powder’s swipe. 
 
  “What’s what?” She feigned innocence. 
 
  “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I mean,” I gulped down an extra breath of air, my heart rate finally coming down to a normal pace again.
 
  “
  
    Ooooh
  
  ,” Powder grinned at me, eyes lowering in an evil expression. “Do you mean the–”
 
  “
  
    Yes,
  
  ” I cut her off. “What the 
  
    f@ck
  
   is it?”
 
  “It’s an invitation to Caitlyn’s wedding, idiot,” she chuckled at me, uncaring of my enraged state. “Can you not read?”
 
  “
  
    Hey
  
  ,” I warned, finally closing the distance as I met her at the bottom of the stairs. I looked up to where she was, her cavalier attitude only making the war in my brain worse. “I don’t need any lip from you right now. C’mon, why on 
  
    Earth
  
   would you put that up?”
 
  “Oh my god, 
  
    Vi
  
  ,” Powder groaned loudly and threw her head back. 
 
  “No, tell me why you’d do that?”
 
  I was putting all of my energy into not raising my voice, though Powder expected it at this point. However it was a trait I always aimed to work on. It had been a long journey, and clearly it was long from over as my strained voice just further increased in bite. My tone was almost threatening and full of venomous sub context only revealed to the two of us at the time. But Powder’s expression quickly turned from amused to bored, and almost exasperated. She clearly felt it was obvious, yet at the time I was failing to understand anyways. Then, it was difficult for me to see things even if they were labeled and under my nose. That fact evident in this conversation alone. 
 
  I had begged her multiple times before not to bring up Caitlyn– the main source of my anger here. But ever since she was a child, she hardly listened to me. I told her not to touch the stove, and she burned her finger. I told her to use her blinkers, and instead she uses the opposite blinker from where she actually is going to turn. I said not to flip off her principal at her high school graduation, but I have a very colorful photo that in hindsight is hilarious. 
 
  I asked her not to mention Caitlyn, yet she openly talks about posts on her Instagram (which she follows, I do not). She recalls old stories and memories in a fond manner, a way to tease me. Every once in a while she’ll say that a top in the window of a boutique downtown reminds her of Caitlyn. 
 Each one is a stab to the heart, but over the years the pain numbed down to a dull, muted ache. Merely I got annoyed, and continued to ignore it and move on. However, that day something was different. Powder wasn’t just talking about how awkward I had been the first time I had Caitlyn over, or that she thinks Caitlyn owns that blue skirt. She had put up her wedding invitation.  
  Nevermind how shocking it felt to receive an invitation from someone I hadn’t even seen in years, the dull ache bloomed back out from deep within my chest like a sword in a rock. I felt made fun of, I felt demeaned, I felt looked down on. 
 
  “Answer me, Pow,” I demanded, watching Powder give me a look I couldn’t name instead of responding. 
 
  “
  
    Christ, Vi
  
  ,” she mumbled at her feet, but then made eye contact again. “Because you’ve been holding a torch for her for years, so I only just thought–”
 
  “I haven’t been holding a torch–!” I was offended. 
 
  “Are you even going to
  
     let 
  
  me answer your question?”
 
  My arms crossed, my sweaty skin now cold from the AC and making me shiver. It rubbed up against itself uncomfortably and I was reminded again that I was going to take a shower before my emotions got the better of me. 
 
  “That’s such a stupid claim, Pow. I haven’t even talked to her since… Forever.”
 
  I had spoken over her. Another groan from my younger sister. She was growing short with me and I could visibly see it. 
 
  “If you’re not in love with her Vi, then why do you still have the 
  
    thing?
  
  ”
 
  My stomach dropped at her evil grin, knowing exactly what she was insinuating.
 
  “
  
    Powder.
  
  ”
 
  I felt dumb for walking right into that trap, and as she turned to run up the stairs I regretted ever telling her about it in the first place all that time ago. My scream after her echoed in the stairwell and I stumbled after her, falling into the side of my bedroom door to see her rummaging in my closet. I scolded her and attempted to peel her away, but her intention was strong and she got a hold of it before I could stop her. 
 
  “Powder, put that back!”
 
  “Not until you explain yourself!” she yelled, cackling at my distress. She stood and backed away from me, holding the small box she had procured above her head like she was taller than me. “Be honest with yourself, Vi!”
 
  “I am!”
 
  “Liar!” Powder screamed. 
 
  I reached up to snatch the box, but she leapt onto my bed in the center of the small room. There was that evil grin again, laughing at my pain to distract herself from my irritable actions that undoubtedly made her want to clock me in the face. 
 
  I didn’t follow her, instead catching my breath that I had somehow lost again in the rush of anxiety. I stayed silent at her mockery as she waited for a satisfactory answer, looking up as she subtly bounced on the mattress. Powder continued to hold the box high, and my gaze locked on that rather than my sister's face. It was in the exact same condition it was in when I first put it away all those years ago. It was tiny, able to fit in your palm, and the lid still tightly secured. The black color wasn’t faded or stained, it looked exactly the same, as if frozen in time. The sight caused a clenching in my heart that made it hard to breathe, on top of the short breath from anxiety. 
 
  “It’s… that’s..” I started weakly. “That’s just a memory… I held onto it for the same reasons you keep photo albums… you know that Pow.”
 
  But she sputtered at me dismissively and finally hopped down, eyeing the box closer in her hands, turning it over and over.
 
  “
  
    Sure
  
  ,” she deadpanned. “And I’m a blonde, leggy cheerleader.”
 
  The sarcasm dripped off her tongue and only then she let me take the box from her grip. Seemingly satisfied with the pot she stirred up, she watched as I felt it in my own hands, staring at it for a moment. But I snapped myself out of a daydream, shaking my head, and returning it to where it's been kept safe for years upon years.
 
  “Did you see behind the invitation?”
 
  “What?”
 
  I was crouched down, but looked over my shoulder to regard Powder and see her sitting now on the edge of my bed. Again she was bouncing a bit, fidgeting with a loose thread on the comforter and not making eye contact as she spoke. Powder looked casual, like she wanted to seem cavalier– but she was also being sneaky. 
 
  “There’s a second invitation.”
 
  “They sent us a second wedding invitation?” I scoffed.
 “No, stupid,” my sister returned. “One to the wedding, another to Caitlyn’s bachelorette party.”  
  To this I screamed ‘
  
    what?
  
  ’ once more, getting a comment to shut up for the sake of her ears from Powder. I was in disbelief already at being invited to her wedding, but to the bachelorette party too? Didn’t you usually only bring along people you liked to those things? At that point in time, Caitlyn and I hadn’t spoken in several years, and I’d hardly call that a friendship strong enough to warrant an invite to that kind of party; I’d hardly call that a friendship at all. I had thought there was this unspoken agreement between us that we’d never contact one another again. I mean, isn’t that how things are supposed to go when you have an ugly break up with someone? 
 
  It was at times like these that I really wished there was a manual for these types of things. 
 
  Because
  
     f@ck all
  
   if I know 
  
    anything 
  
  about how to deal with this.'
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