This entire work is dedicated to Bianca. Without her, and Will Young, this would not have happened.
When you read this, I entirely suggest you listen to Jealousy (Acoustic) by Will Young. That's what this is based on.
These aren't separate chapters as such, I just wanted to break it up in case it got really long.
And be nice, this was written at 2-3 in the morning.
Karen woke in a fluster.
She was late. Again.
It took her three minutes to throw on something from her wardrobe. Bypassing the bathroom, she continued in her rush.
She ghosted through her apartment, dodging the clutter that had come to nestle in every available space. Her eyes stung from the bright light that poured in through an open curtain. Nothing was straight in her head, the thoughts were incoherent. As they were every morning, it seemed.
"Oh god." She groaned, catching sight of her unruly hair in the mirror as her fingers brushed over the table for her car keys. Not bothering with a usual swipe of mascara, she coaxed her hair into a messy ponytail. Random strands flew out, creating a slightly insane look. Karen felt insane right about now, the look was fitting.
Where's my phone?
What's the time? Oh god, is it really? Steven will murder me.
What am I doing?
An exasperated sigh escaped her, echoing around her apartment. The way the sound bounced off the white-washed walls shocked her a little. Did she really sound that fed up all the time?
"Pull yourself together Karen." She ordered her reflection. The girl that stared back, she didn't recognise. In the mirror she could see the coffee table, sitting awkwardly in the middle of a cluttered room. She preferred to keep the table clear, far preferring to leave things on the floor. A single photo frame, deep red, leather, rectangular, was all that sat on the table. Fingerprints adorned the edges of the table, but none came within half a foot of the frame.
Admire from afar. It's the best way. The only way.
In the temporary distraction, she hadn't noticed the small white rectangle vibrating furiously inches from her left hand. The glare of the screen didn't help with the sudden headache she'd developed. It was a text. Karen probably had several, but she couldn't say she'd paid them any attention.
Text from: Matt
Sent at: 9:23 am
Where are you Kaz?x
Feeling a not unwelcome buzz, Karen reached for her scarf, slipping on her shoes. Her phone and car keys in her right hand, house key in the other, hair pulled back, woolly scarf wrapped firmly around her neck, Karen was ready –well, as ready as she could be. Without a fleeting glance back, she strode out of the apartment. The door, covered in green, peeling paint, slammed behind her.
From the frame on the table, a picture of Matt and her on their first day together – her favourite picture of them - stared out at the empty apartment.
The cold Cardiff air bit at her cheeks as Karen made her way to her car. It was 9:36 now. An hour late. Karen supposed it was better than yesterday, when she'd been nearly three hours late. Nobody had particularly expected her to be late; nobody had cared to ask why. Apart from Matt.
She'd shrugged it off as a late night. That bit was true. What she didn't allow him to know was she'd spent the night battling her emotions. At roughly three am that morning, the picture frame's place had been threatened. Karen found it impossible to look into Matt's eyes for more than five seconds without the feelings creeping up on her. They made her spine tingle with electricity, billions of volts through her every second.
Her heartbeat was manic in her chest, pushing out against her ribs. Karen shook her head, stuffing her longs legs into her car that only seemed to get smaller by the day.
It was a twenty minute drive to location. Twenty minutes Karen. Hold yourself together for twenty minutes.
The engine purred into life after she'd turned the key in the ignition. Everything sparked into existence, including the radio. A far too happy voice for a Tuesday (was it Tuesday?) morning filled her ears.
"Will Young now with his new single 'Jealousy'"
Karen wanted to slam her head against the steering wheel. Today, she'd decided, was going to be one of those days.
She tried her best to ignore the melody that resonated from the speakers embedded in the car door, whilst manoeuvring out of the car park. Trust her to choose the apartment building with the ridiculously awkward car park. The radio seemed to blare louder, even if she turned the volume down, interrupting whatever thoughts she'd had. Her car had been the only one left, sitting in one of the central spaces. Everyone else, she presumed, had managed to wake up on time.
That's probably because they weren't up all night worrying about a certain Northamptonian and his girlfriend.
What did you think?