Don't Stand By Me (COMPLETE) - Chapter 2: Chapter 2

KIARA
July 25th 2022 - 17:22
Like every other bad idea, it started with Violet. She would get these ideas in her head that were impossible to shake, and I got dragged along for the ride. I knew when she got that look in her eye, that I was screwed because no one was capable of saying no to Violet for anything. What she wanted, she got. This particular idea though, I wasn't expecting and to be honest, I could have said no if I really wanted to, she wouldn't force me, but my guilt of lying to her forced me to say yes.
It was a random Monday in the weeks following graduation when she burst into our shared apartment, a wild look in her eyes and clutching sheets of paper.
"I have the best idea ever!" She squealed, kicking her shoes off haphazardly and literally skipping into the centre of the room.
Violet was practically bouncing on her toes, her blue eyes wide and shining as she had to physically contain herself from hopping around the room. There were times when her energy was infectious - this was not one of those times. In the four years we had known Violet, she had been multiple different people; the spoiled brat, the rebellious teenager - which in her case was refusing to spend her parent's money for a week before she had a meltdown in her part-time Sephora job - the vapid influencer, and then the somewhat regular girl. This most recent phase, which was somehow a combination of the lot, was still my favourite, despite how high energy she had become.
Violet was like a hyperactive pixie girl who was born and bred amongst New York's highest socialites. She was the kind of girl who wore Escada jeans and Gucci sunglasses yet lounged around the house in a gingerbread onesie screaming Britney Spears lyrics at the top of her lungs while Elvis and I, usually hungover, begged her to stop. She had come a long way in the last four years and - as much as I didn't care to admit it aloud - she had brought us along for the ride.
I was a self-assured person, I could admit that Elvis and I were raging assholes when we first met Violet, but she had been no piece of cake either - something she would never admit outloud.
Elvis and I shared a look over the kitchen table, one of his perfectly shaped eyebrows raised at me in concern. We knew her well enough to know this was something we would not enjoy. Elvis took a slow sip of his coffee and looked at her expectantly.
"Well?" He sighed, "What is it, Barbie?"
She glared at him, then shook her head, not letting his bitchy demeanour distract her from whatever she had in store for us. To be fair to her, it had been at least a few months since she had sprung something like this on us, but the last time...well, Elvis and I were pulling glitter out of uncomfortable spots for weeks. And the images burned into our minds were still fused there.
"We are going to the Grand Canyon!" She clapped her hands excitedly, throwing the papers onto the table.
Splayed across the table were dozens of pictures of the Grand Canyon, along with printouts full of words I couldn't even make out because there was too much to pinpoint. One of the sheets had a photo of the ugliest RV I had ever seen. I barked out a laugh, and Elvis joined suit, both of us bursting into a fit of laughter while Violet watched with her hands on her hips, glaring at us.
"The fuck we are," Elvis snorted once he caught his breath, "Not a chance."
"I'm with him. No way."
"Come on!" Violet pouted, "It would be so much fun and God knows we all need a distraction!"
"I am doing just fine, thank you very much." Elvis crossed his arms, "I am not spending a week in a sweaty RV with you two to go see a glorified cliff? No chance, princess."
I take a long sip of my juice and fix Violet with my sternest glare, "I agree. We'd kill each other after two days."
Violet's lower lip trembled. Elvis and I shared a firm look. We would not give in, not this time. We would stand firm and strong and not give Violet everything she wanted because she turned the puppy dog eyes on us.
"I just...I wanted us to spend some proper time together, because we won't be living together anymore in a few months. I'm gonna be in Queens, guys and while yes I'm only going to be a train ride away and we're gonna see each other every weekend, we won't be together. I'm going to miss you both so much." She sniffled, "I just want one last roommate's bestie trip."
It would be a big change for us all, who had been glued at the hip for the last four years. When Violet announced her father was moving her to Queens after graduation to focus on their family law firm - which sounded minimal despite Martin Hastings being one of the most influential lawyers in the state, if not the country - she was devastated. She spent three days crying herself to sleep on the couch hugging a pint of low-fat vegan ice cream - because it never went to my goddamn hips, Ki! - before we managed to peel her away. We told her a million times she didn't have to do it, but she refused to listen, stating her father would cut her off and tearfully demanded we drop the subject, and so we did.
My heart broke as tears welled up in her eyes. Elvis and I shared another look and I could see his resolve had shattered as much as mine and likely for the same reason. In my mind, I had to give Violet whatever she wanted, so she would hate me less when she found out what I was hiding from her, both things I was hiding from her, yet had told Elvis. God, I would hate me if I were her.
"Fine." Elvis held up a finger, "But I have conditions."
Violet nodded enthusiastically, "Anything."
"I don't want to hear anything about how much I drink or smoke. I will need it, as will you."
Violet nodded.
"You find us a decent RV, one with multiple bedrooms or even just separate beds."
She nodded again.
His eyes softened, "And we split the cost of everything. You are not paying for all of this, V."
She smiled, "You love me so much."
"Don't make me take it back. But I do."
I gagged.
"Oh we love you toooooo," Elvis smacked a kiss on my check, "Our little baby."
"I'm older than both of you, assholes." I snorted, "But okay, I'm in, with the exact same conditions."
Violet squealed with delight, pulling us both out of our seats and into a tight group hug.
"This is gonna be the best trip ever!" She clapped her hands, "I can't wait to tell Brent!"
My smile dropped at that, but I didn't say anything. Elvis caught it and shook his head. Neither of us commented, instead distracting Violet from our silence by looking through the things she had dropped on the counter.
"We definitely need a divider between us if he's coming." Elvis joked, "I am not witnessing you two getting it on."
"As if you're not gonna drag some guy back to the RV." Violet smirked, "And besides, I have class. I'll wait until you're asleep to ravish my loving boyfriend."
I stiffened but remained silent, looking anywhere but at Violet. Elvis shook his head at me inconspicuously and gave me a look that clearly read we'll talk later. I gave him a stiff smile and picked up the picture of the RV she had picked out.
"This is the ugliest fucking thing I've ever seen, sweetie." I blew a breath out through my nose, "We'll find a proper one."
"I was going for a cute picket fence family on a road trip vibe," Violet shrugged, reaching into her satchel.
"Dibs on being the grumpy alcoholic father." Elvis smirked.
"Damn it, that's my one!"
"You can be the angry lesbian daughter-"
"Shut the fuck up-"
"Guys!" Violet snapped her fingers, "Focus!" She held up a photo she had grabbed from her satchel, "I did find this one. It's a bit more expensive but I can cover it."
Looking at the photo I gasped aloud. This wasn't an RV; it was basically a house on wheels. It was nicer than our apartment for God's sake. It had bunk beds, a queen bed and a sofa bed, with a kitchen and a bathroom. There was enough open floor space where we could lounge and not be on top of each other for the duration of the trip. It was perfect.
"How much?" Elvis asked, gnawing on his lower lip.
"For the two weeks we'd need? Probably nearly three grand, the cheapest I could find on Airbnb.."
I gasped, "We can't afford that, Vi."
"To be fair, for two weeks, we'd spend more than that on a hotel suite in Buenos Aires or something like we were talking about," Elvis pondered, "I could empty my savings."
"Absolutely not!" Violet exclaimed, "You guys can help pay for everything else, gas, food, whatever. But this is on me."
"V, we can't ask you to-"
"I'm rich." She raised an eyebrow, "So shut up." She smiled again, "You guys this is going to be so much fun!"
"V," I tried, "We can't let you just drop that much cash on this."
"Ki, you should know by now that's pocket change to me. Besides," She shrugged, "My parents wanted to get me a trip as a graduation present, and this is certainly cheaper than if I went to Paris like they suggested." Her eyes sparkled, "Consider it my birthday present to you, El."
"You already got me a present." He shook the watch on his wrist lightly.
"But this is a better one!"
"Fine." Elvis' resolve crumbled, "But only because I'm broke. We're still helping with everything else."
"I wouldn't expect anything less." Violet beamed, "Ki?"
I couldn't help but smile at her megawatt grin, "I'm in, too." Then I paused, "Wait, this trip is two weeks?"
"Well the canyon is like two thousand miles away. I did my research!" She said proudly, "They're fairly slow to drive and we might stop and have a look at sights. It's a precaution really. And if we get sick of it, I'll book us some flights and get dad to hire someone to drive it home. But we won't because we are going to have so much fun and never ever want it to end!"
We couldn't help but smile fondly at her excitement, it was nice to see her like this again. The last year had been tough on all of us, with graduation looming and our futures uncertain and on the horizon. It had hit Violet especially hard, who had no clue what she wanted to do with her life. She wouldn't admit it out loud unless she was drunk but I knew how hard her parents' decision was affecting her. She didn't want to be a lawyer, stuck working with her father forever. Especially considering Martin Hastings was...not the most savoury of men. He was well known for his shadier practices, and his 'alleged' mafia ties. I had met the man numerous times...it wasn't that much of a stretch.
Ever since I had met Violet, she had slowly been trying to shed the mould her parents had poured her into since birth. They originally wanted her to become a trophy wife, ditzy and sweet with nothing going on in her brain. Luckily for Violet, she was fiercely intelligent and extremely loyal and loving, giving her the drive that got her through our years at college. Which her father did end up respecting, but it slightly backfired as now she was expected to join the family business come September.
If you had told me five years ago that I would be friends with someone like Violet I would have laughed, then probably punched you in the face - I was a lot more aggressive back then. And I would have laughed harder if you had told me Elvis developed a kinship with her. Even so, Violet had managed to break the hard shells we had crafted around ourselves, closed off to everyone except for each other. Now we were closed off to everyone except each other - and Violet.
Despite Violet's intelligence, drive and confidence, she really did not want to become a lawyer. She didn't actually know what she wanted to do at all, but certainly not that. The only thing she knew she actually wanted to do after graduation was...well, Brent. The waste of space of a future NFL linebacker that was her beloved boyfriend. I hated the man, had been since the day we met and he made a crude comment about me and my girlfriend at the time. Violet hadn't witnessed it and I didn't want to dampen her excitement; I figured he wouldn't be around long and we could laugh about it and make fun of him when they inevitably broke up. But eight months later, there he was, as much a part of our lives as ever.
I had tried to be his friend but there was something about him that made me want to drive his head into the nearest wall. The feeling seemed to be mutual so we silently decided to do what was best for Violet - avoid each other as much as humanly possible. He was exactly what you would expect. Six foot something, built like a linebacker and gorgeous to boot. Him and Violet together might as well be boxed up as Barbie and Ken.
"You guys really are the best friends ever!" Violet pulled out her phone and began recording, babbling into the camera.
I rolled my eyes, though not unkindly, as she pointed the camera at us, explaining to whoever that we were going on the best trip ever! It was oddly fascinating to watch her at work, giggling and answering her audience as if she were in conversation with an old friend. Violet had built up a small following during our years at school, thousands of people who enjoyed her babbling about anything and everything. I understood it honestly, I too could listen to her talk for hours, she just had that addictive energy that made you want to be around her. She could read a cookbook and make it seem interesting; it was the trait of hers I was the most jealous of. About ten minutes later she finished up, threw her phone into her purse and slipped on a different, more nearby pair of shoes.
"I'm gonna go tell Brent!" She smiled, "I'll bring home dinner!"
And off she went, with a skip in her step and a glow following her. Not literally, but there might as well have been.
"She's like the human personification of an angel." Elvis snorted, flopping down onto the couch and switching on the tv.
"El..." I began, sitting next to him and tucking my legs under myself, "What are we gonna do?"
"Well, about our more pressing issue. This week will be a great chance to tell her. She'll be happy, optimistic about the future and open to listen."
"You really think she's going to accept the fact that we're both moving to Europe?"
He sighed, "It's not like we have a choice, do we? Everything is set in stone and maybe we should have told her sooner but it's too late now. Merde." He pinched the bridge of his nose, "She's gonna hate us."
"She'd probably come with me to Italy," I snorted, "If Brent wasn't around. She'd love the fashion."
"Well if she wants the fashion, she'd join me in France."
"As if you could handle her. You'd kill her."
"Lovingly."
"And about our...other issue?" I pressed on.
"Well," Elvis bit his lip, "Two weeks is a long time. We just have to not kill him and I call that a victory."
"I hate him so much."
"I know. Me too."
"Maybe he'll surprise us." I sighed, "Surely Violet wouldn't be around someone so horrible."
"I dunno. She seems to love you."
"Hardee Har."
We moved out onto the balcony after that, chatting lightly and passing a smoke between us. I smiled at the fuzzy feeling spreading through my limbs. This was exactly what I needed right now. I pulled a face at a passerby on the road below, and he flipped me the bird. One thing I'd fondly miss about the states; being able to be rude to strangers with zero repercussions.
These times with Elvis were always the nearest and dearest to my heart. In the last fifteen years - and the last five since we had discovered alcohol and smoking - we escaped to any open space we could countless times. This included rooftops, balconies, gardens, even a broken trampoline once. It was those moments where I felt most myself, free and happy to sit in his company with nothing else bothering us.
Elvis was unlike anyone I had ever met; snarky, witty and biting yet with a big heart for those he held dearest. Everything he ever did was for someone else, especially me, which I realised when he dragged me to New York alongside him three years prior. He had an affinity for the twentieth century which came less from his namesake and more from his mother's borderline psychotic obsession with it. The time I had lived with their family I would wake up every morning to her crooning songs from the sixties and making her children join in like some kind of demented Von Trapp replica. Thankfully I was exempt.
Once we had moved to New York, the tradition stayed. Countless times I came home to find Elvis' crooning across the apartment coming from his dingy record player that he refused to replace because it was 'vintage'.
It was from 2009.
"I'm so hungry," I giggled, passing it back to Elvis.
"Are you two high again?" Violet's voice trilled out through the balcony doors.
"Maybeeee." Elvis snickered, "Did you bring dinner?"
"Of course, come in, druggies."
We sauntered in, locking the balcony doors behind us. My smile dropped at the sight of Brent gathering plates and putting them on the table. His head lifted when he saw us and gave us a stiff smile and a nod. It always made me chuckle at how massive he looked in our tiny apartment. He moved slowly, still managing to hit his shoulders off the cramped cabinets as he manoeuvred his way around the small space.
"Hey guys." He said awkwardly, hands full.
"Hey." Elvis and I muttered in unison, shuffling over and sitting down.
I stuffed my face without care of who was around me; I was absolutely starving. I could feel their gazes on me but I didn't care.
"Jesus, Kiara." Brent snorted, "Hungry much?"
I froze, wiping my mouth with a napkin on the table, "Didn't ask you, dipshit, did I?"
Elvis' booming laugh was drowned out by Violet's indigent shriek and Brent sat there with his mouth hanging open and fork hovering midair.
"Ki, be nice!" Violet's eyes were wide and pleading, "I really want us all to use this trip to really bond!"
"Can't wait." I muttered, spearing a piece of lettuce with my fork.
I could feel Violet staring at me disapprovingly; I ignored it. But I felt the guilt settling in my stomach like a rock; I knew I was being childish but I couldn't help it; I really fucking hated that guy. Violet excused herself to the bathroom, sniffling and I felt like bursting into tears. I stood to follow her but Brent stopped me with a hand over my arm.
"Wait, please." Brent sighed, "Look I know you hate me. And I'm not your biggest fan either, but we need to do this for her."
"Oh all of a sudden you care about her?" I snorted, "How about you should have thought about that before you cheated on her!"
Brent's eyes widened, glancing at Elvis, who knew well enough to pretend he wasn't listening, tapping away on his phone.
"He's too high to know what's going on." I lied, "But you really expect me to be friendly with you when you're blackmailing me!"
Brent smirked, crossing his arms, "Your lie is gonna hurt her as much as mine will, if not more. And I will tell her, probably on this trip." He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, "I'm not a monster, I really do care about her and it was a stupid mistake I've been trying to make up for."
I scowled at him, hands clenched into fists by my side. Stupid fucking Brent. He had found out our little secret after eavesdropping on Elvis and I like a typical asshole. He had stayed over one night a few weeks back, not leaving even when Violet went out for brunch with one of her 'girly' friends. Elvis and I were discussing how the fuck we were gonna tell Violet about our impending move, when he wandered in just his boxers and smirking at us. 'Gotcha' he'd said, winking at me. Since then, we had been at a stalemate, ignoring each other for Violet's sake but I knew he was plotting something against me.
"So tell her." I snapped.
"I will. I promise." He nodded, "You have to tell her you're leaving."
"I will."
"So can we pretend to get along? For her?"
"Fine."
Violet came back from the bathroom, a shaky smile on her lips as she sat. Brent gave her a light peck, causing her to flush and duck her head. It brought a small smile to my face. Maybe they really could be happy, as soon as he was honest with her - maybe.
"I'm sorry, Vi." I reached across the table and held her hand, "I was being a dick. I promise, we'll get along on this trip. Right, Brent?"
"Right." He gave me a brief nod.
Violet beamed, squeezing Brent's bicep tightly before scooping another forkful into her mouth, practically vibrating in her chair.
God, this was going to be the longest two weeks of my fucking life.
—--
That night I couldn't help but toss and turn, eyes glued to the open window beside me, the city lights blasting onto my face. I sighed, giving up on the idea of sleep and clambering out my window and onto the fire escape, gripping the steel ladder tightly. The cool night air blasted my bare legs and I shuddered, picking up the pace until I was firmly planted on the roof. We had set it up like a small living room, once we had gotten permission from the landlord, Mrs Resnick. She was an elderly woman who had taken on the role of landlord when her son had passed away, leaving her all his assets.
I often felt for the poor woman, inviting her to lunch a few times but she avoided our apartment like the plague, not a fan of Elvis or Violet for varying reasons. But with me, she always had a smile to spare and a moment to pinch my cheek as I passed her in the halls. I joined her for tea in her apartment at least every two weeks and listened as she regaled tales of her son's adventures around the globe before finally settling down and marrying his childhood sweetheart.
We felt like kindred spirits in a way, her without her son and me without my parents and so when I asked her could we use the rooftop - which was completely ignored by the other tenants - she clapped her hands with glee, insisting she had spare patio furniture out in a storage unit somewhere. And so Capri was born, as we so affectionately called the living space. Unsurprisingly, we had fought about it for days, until we realised Capri soothed Elvis' love of fashion, Violet's need to make it about herself - matching her star sign - and my need to get the two of them to shut up. Despite their squabbling and insistence of how important it was to them, it was mainly me who ventured up there, particularly on nights like these.
I lay back on the swinging bench Mrs Resnick had donated and stared up at the stars, barely visible over the blinding city lights but there all the same. It reminded me so clearly of my few lingering memories of childhood, lying by my mothers side out in the open as she pointed up at the stars and told me which constellation meant which. It never developed into a full-fledged passion for astronomy but it was knowledge that never managed to leave me, even if the image of my parents slowly did.
It was hard to admit when I was feeling lonely but the last few months had hit me hard, with graduation looming and feeling like I was being forced to grow up, to be an adult and join the real world. I had a job lined up, a place to live, but no one to share it with. My parents had been childhood sweethearts, as it seemed everyone was in the 90's, but that kind of love always felt unobtainable to me. And though I would never admit it aloud - especially to Elvis and Violet - I wanted to fall in love more than anything, to be able to lie beneath the stars with someone who would move heaven and earth to make me smile.
It was cheesy, I knew this, but God did I want it, even though I knew deep down that I would never have it.
—
To be fair to Violet, she had gotten everything set up for us within the next week, Elvis and I didn't need to lift a finger. We had tried to give our input, but Violet began snapping that we were ruining 'her mojo' so we simply left her to it. She always was a big planner. By Friday, we were all packed and waiting for Brent and Violet to pull up in the RV. I stood on the sidewalk, fanning my face with an ornamental fan Elvis of course had lying around his room. He stood next to me, sunglasses perched delicately on the bridge of his nose and scrolling idly to his phone.
"How are we feeling?"
I shrugged, "Whatever happens, happens. I wish we had some more people going with us, it would make it easier to ignore him."
"Well maybe if we were more likeable, we'd have more friends."
I snorted, "We? You're Mr Bitchy Gay over here."
"And you're Ms Uptight Lesbian."
"You got me there!" I joked, passing him the fan, "Did you stock up for the trip?"
"Enough to be charged with a felony." He smirked, fanning himself quickly.
"Just what I like to hear."
I zoned out at that point, my gaze fixed on a pigeon who was hopping around aimlessly. Before long, the RV pulled up and Violet bounded out, dressed in a large Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts, complete with a pair of thick brown sandals. I raised an eyebrow at her wide grin as she spun around, showing off her outfit.
"I'm just really excited!" She pulled us both into hugs as if she hadn't seen us an hour before, "Do you like my fit? It's vintage!"
Elvis barked out a laugh and ruffled her hair, "So vintage!"
We all clambered on, greeting Brent politely before gaping at the area we were standing in.
"This is nicer than our apartment!" I breathed, dropping my suitcase, "I can't believe this."
"Guy gave me a really good deal!" Violet cut in, "And started us with a full tank of gas. There are three sleeping areas, so we can have our space."
Elvis flopped down on the massive couch, gaping at the massive tv that came down from the ceiling. I sat beside him, reaching for Violet and we all fell into a fit of giggles as she tripped over her feet and landed directly on top of us. She nestled her way between the two of us and cuddled close.
"I love you dummies."
We smiled and shared the sentiment, feeling truly at peace with her for the first time in weeks.
"So let's get this show on the road!" Brent whooped from behind the wheel, shattering the moment.
I met his gaze in the rear view mirror and gave him a small nod. He smiled at me.
Maybe we could survive this trip unscathed.