Post by Boardwalk Angels on Feb 24, 2018 23:38:08 GMT -5
“No one makes it out of life alive. No matter how healthy you live, the end is eventually going to come and, for a large percentage of us, it’s going to come without warning. Living clean isn’t going to slow things down much. You can be a 60-year-old with the body of a 35-year-old but that won’t stop a speeding bus roaring down the street if you step off the curb without watching where you’re going. And sometimes people who suck down junk food for three meals a day make it to 80 before drifting away in their sleep. I apologize for how morbid all this sounds but death is the foremost thing on my mind these days… and has been for over a week. Losing someone important to you will do that. It makes you wonder why you try and whether it’s worth it to sacrifice so much when, in the end, none of it matters. You don’t get to take anything with you and you leave behind everything that you are.
Except… I know no other way. There’s no such thing as backpedaling in my mind. If you aren’t moving forward, you’re doing something wrong. But I’m neither progressing nor regressing. I’m… stagnating. Again, that happens when you lose someone special… especially when they’re such an inspiration in the first place.”
* February 21st, 2018, early-evening *
* Holderman Cemetary *
* North Manchester, IN *
Except… I know no other way. There’s no such thing as backpedaling in my mind. If you aren’t moving forward, you’re doing something wrong. But I’m neither progressing nor regressing. I’m… stagnating. Again, that happens when you lose someone special… especially when they’re such an inspiration in the first place.”
* February 21st, 2018, early-evening *
* Holderman Cemetary *
* North Manchester, IN *
Funerals are not a pleasant place to be, whether one is linked deeply to the deceased or simply there for support of another who is. For those who are avid people-watchers, though, the positive that can usually be gleaned from the experience is seeing people take off the masks and break down their walls, showing what’s truly within. It is a shame that it often takes such an experience to bring this out of them, but such is life. Zoey Madigan-Star is not one of those sorts. She is a woman who wears her heart on her sleeve even when being more guarded would serve her needs far more effectively. And, as was likely expected of most present, the Magical Maiden spent most of the day pre- and post-service consoling others and doing her best to live up to her old Sisterhood of Light nickname: the Bringer of Smiles. If she was not seeing to the younger members of the Cornett family and lifting their spirits, she was instead visiting with people she had not seen in some time or helping out with the refreshments alongside a few others.
Typical Zoey: taking care of everyone but herself. Pain and grief are dangerous things, and those she tended to were too deep in theirs to realize the truth of what she was doing. Except, that is, for Farrah Cornett. The Crimson Angel might have done something about her friend and partner’s actions sooner but she, too, was trying to accomplish the goal of brightening the proceedings though in her own way. This was not to be a full-on mourning for the departed, but also a celebration of their life, short though it may have been. She did notice, however; while Zoey watched over everyone else, Farrah watched over her. When true smiles came to the faces of those touched by the Sorcerous Angel, Farrah noted how tenuous the smile on Zoey’s own face was. When it looked like Zoey would crumble, she would instead find someone else in need and put her energy into them instead of taking a moment of her own. Though it took until the end of the event, when most of the guests were starting to make their way from the cemetery to the Main View Inn for dinner or toward home to continue their mourning in private, Farrah did finally corner Zoey…
”How long are you going to try and keep this up?”
Dressed entirely in black, from the dress to the boots to the hooded leather jacket she was in the process of putting back on, Zoey looked toward Farrah for a moment before finishing cleaning off the last of the refreshment tables. Speaking calmly and quietly, she replies to her friend.
”As long as I can.”
Farrah rolls her eyes slightly, similarly dressed with but with a style that was more conservative.
”Running yourself into the dirt isn’t going to accomplish anything.”
”Does it have to?”
Shooting her partner a stern look, Farrah begins to approach before Zoey holds up a hand and shakes her head. Her fingers curl into a fist which trembles before she lowers it. Taking a deep breath, she zips up the jacket and responds with the same forced calm as before.
”I’m doing the only thing I can do, Farrah… the only thing that makes sense to me right now: and that’s helping others handle this loss.”
”At the expense of not dealing with your own feelings and getting a goddamn ulcer in ten years from stress? Look, Zoey, no one is going to try and tell you not to do you, least of all me. If it weren’t for people like you this would have been far sadder of a day than it needed to be. But…”
The Jersey Hellcat fumbles about mentally, trying to come up with the right words, to be supportive to her best friend in the world. She finds it a lot harder than it should have been for some reason. Zoey turns her mismatched golden eyes on her partner and Farrah, exhaling heavily, just says what’s on her mind.
”Look, the bottom line is that I haven’t seen you like this since Drake.”
Noticeably tensing up at the sound of his name, Zoey has a shadow pass over her face briefly in response.
”And that isn’t good. Where you are in your life, where WE are in our careers? The last thing you need is to fall back into those habits.”
”So… what?”
Whispers the magician-turned-wrestler, turning to face her friend with her eyes already glistening. Willpower alone is all that keeps those tears from dropping.
”I’m just supposed to act like everything is super fine and keep forging ahead? I’m dealing, Farrah. I’m doing it the only way I know how, and that’s by being there for others who need someone to be their shoulders and catch their tears. That’s who I am.”
”And how long are going to do that before you break down? They aren’t the only ones who need support. You need it, too, so stop being so goddamn stubborn.”
Scoffing slightly, Zoey shakes her head.
”I’ll deal.”
”Yeah, heard THAT one before.”
”Excuse me?”
Stopping mid-stride, Zoey turns and looks over her shoulder at Farrah who stares after her defiantly.
”As I remember it, the last time you ‘dealt’ with something like this, you ended up in the hospital because you thought you were having a fucking heart attack. And who was the first person by your side?”
”Do not start that here, Farrah!”
”It was Jami herself, as I recall. And after that, when you were laid up for a week trying to get yourself right, you made a promise not only to Katalina but to so many others that you wouldn’t let yourself get that way again. And here we are.”
”I said don’t start!”
Turning and approaching, Zoey gets within a few inches of Farrah, who does not recoil from her friend.
”You’re one bad turn away from being right back in that spot, Zee. Then you’ll have broken more promises than you could ever fix because you always have to be so damn emotionally masochistic! What in the hell does forcing yourself to suffer in silence for the sake of others help?! All these fake smiles and practiced reassurances…”
Appearing as though she wants to take a swing at Farrah, Zoey tenses up all over. Her partner, on the other hand, remains resolute.
”...do you really think they don’t know?! Do you think they don’t care?! You don’t get to bottle shit up like that because all you’re doing is setting up for a bigger self-destruction than the world has ever seen. Every feeling, every ounce of pain you force down is just another barrel full of wildfire waiting for a spark. Doesn’t matter if we’re talking about Jami passing or Pet attacking Katalina or whatever else! And I don’t want to be the one who has to pick up the pieces when you go off!”
”Then don’t!”
The response catches Farrah off-guard. She has little time to contemplate the true meaning of it, however.
”Maybe you should practice what you preach for once, Farrah, and stop making people drag out of you what the problems are. You’re not an island either, you know. You need support and hope and consolation just like the rest. Stop me if I lie.”
There is a tense, uncomfortable series of moments before Zoey steps in and embraces her friend. There is little hesitation in Farrah, who hugs right back with undisguised relief on her face.
”You need to stop destroying yourself by denying what you think and feel for the sake of the only people who will truly understand. And, yes, I need to stop destroying myself by giving all that I have and leaving nothing within me to accomplish my own needs and wants. We’re both… guilty.”
”For a moment there I thought you were going to hit me.”
”That can wait till Sunday night.”
Chuckling softly at that one, Farrah disengages from Zoey and offers her a slight smile… a genuine one. Just like the brief smile that Zoey returns to her.
”Just don’t cry when I hit you back.”
”You wish.”
Zoey looks over her shoulder, toward the car where Katalina now awaits her. A bit further down the lot, James, Sonia and the twins await Farrah. The Angels return their attention to one another and nod.
”See you at dinner?”
”Yes.”
Going off to meet her husband and children, Farrah gives a last look over her shoulder at Zoey before the magician heads off to her wife. Though she was not privy to the conversation, she read enough through body language to know that things got salty. Katalina is uncharacteristically gentle when Zoey arrives before her.
”Is everything alright, sweetheart?”
”It will be. Would you mind driving tonight?”
”Not at all. Do you still wish to head home in the morning instead of lingering?”
”I think that would be best, yes…”
Walking around and getting into the passenger seat, Zoey takes a slow breath and buckles her seat belt as Katalina gets in as well, starting the car and pulling them out of the lot. The view switches to James and Farrah a moment later, the two getting into their car with James in the driver’s seat. There’s silence as he starts it up and pulls away from the lot until he finally poses the question.
”Everything alright with you two? It looked like things were going to get violent there for a moment.”
”Truth is, I really don’t know. I’ve only seen her like this once before and it didn’t end well. Still not sure how she survived that period in her life. But I meant what I said: she needs to cool it and not try to be everyone’s heroine.”
”So do you. You two are more alike than unlike, Spice.”
Sighing, Farrah looks back to the kids. Brenden and Brenna look content enough, not quite being to that age where death is such a heavy thing to them though they do miss Aunt Jami. Sonia, on the other hand, looks rather broken up. When Farrah takes her hand, though, she manages a small smile.
”Maybe.”
”Screw maybe. It’s the truth.”
Turning back around, Farrah looks upon her husband with a resigned smile, shrugging and letting it pass without further argument, something that James takes serious note of.
”Are you two still planning to the handle the match in tribute fashion?”
”Certainly are. It’s the best way to honor her for now. But… no more shop talk tonight. Let’s just get to dinner and then back home. I don’t have the energy to think or fake smiles anymore.”
Nodding, James turns fully to the road as the smaller-by-one family heads into town.
Fade to black.