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The Beginning of the End

“The greatest tragedy to your future is it running concurrent with your past.”

—Ivy

One year earlier

H ave you ever hated something and loved it at the same time? I have, specifically, the color red.

Statistically, red makes you look more powerful; at least, that’s what she says.

However, that’s not why I wear it , or maybe it is? Honestly at this point, I’m not sure.

Our personalities used to be so far apart, but now, defining our differences is almost non-existent.

Differentiating ourselves over the years has become harder and harder, but isn’t that how it is with most best friends who grew up together? Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past her; that’s exactly why her clothing selection consists of only red.

Sure, she’s my best friend, but that doesn’t mean I have to think she’s perfect.

In reality, she is a vain, manipulative, and calculated bitch.

So, if the shoe fits, and it certainly does, then wear it, and she wears it hastily.

I, on the other hand, well, I hate the color red for more reasons than one, and at times, my entire world revolves around her.

“Wearing red again, I see, shocker.”

I can’t help but laugh as the words leave my lips. Antagonizing her is truly a loved art of mine I have perfected over the years. Here comes the side eyes.

“Ha, jealous much?”

Her words laced with a grin that could solve world peace. “I can’t help that I make red look good off and on the floor.”

My eyes roll in disgust. As much as I love her, her immense confidence at times can be nauseating.

“Let’s try and keep it off the floor tonight, Red,”

I suggest.

Obviously, this is my sad attempt in trying to keep her in line, which I’m certain will be unattainable, but for my own self-righteous reasons, I like to believe my words carry weight when it comes to her and her behavior, knowing damn well I’ll be listening to her evening affairs detail for detail over coffee in the morning. Not that I’m complaining, though. I certainly live vicariously through her in many ways.

Leaning down off the edge of the bed, struggling like hell to lace my black heels as quickly as I can, my insecurities begin to seep through my confidence.

“God, I really hope my massive calves don’t bust out of these tonight,”

I joke as a gasp releases all the air left trapped inside of me that this dress has yet to expel from my chest.

“Ha, Ivy, and here I am hoping mine do, and not on their own accord.”

“I can’t even with you. I swear your mind is always in the gutter.”

I wish just one year we could do a pajama-themed event so I could actually be comfortable at it for once instead of fighting for my life through the entire night.

“Where else would it be? Think about it. Hot men, dressed in the finest suits, with big wallets and unfulfilling marriages. Events like these are the gutter, glazed over with fine dining, charity toppings, and egotistical conversations, but a cake is still a cake no matter how you slice it.”

She’s not wrong. No matter how many times I attend these events with her, it’s like a breeding ground for bad decisions, which is exactly why I am her plus one. Red can’t let go of situation-ships long enough to actually even attempt a real relationship. Well, that and I’m required to be there as the Co-CEO.I, on the other hand, have been in a meaningful relationship for almost six years now.

“You do realize everything tonight is about us? We are literally the reason for the event. That means every eye in that room will be on us, and hopefully, I will have a pair on just me later.”

“Redddd , seriously, don’t remind me. I’m going to throw up; you know I hate people staring at me.”

“Yes, I know, but it’s part of your world. Just remember who you are. Come here—stand in front of the mirror and repeat after me.”

Not again. Lord, if she drags me to this mirror for one more afforma—yup, here we go.

“I am successful, I am bold, I am beautiful, I am kind, I am unstoppable. Most of all, I am worthy. Oh, and a boss bitch, I might add, even if you do prefer the shadows.”

I really wish I could quit selling myself short. I wish sometimes I could see all my amazing qualities like she sees, but that’s me always second-guessing myself. Living in the shadows is not as bad as she thinks it is. It brings me peace and, most importantly, stability, especially here these last few years.

“Thanks Red. You always do have the right words at the right moment, yin to my yang.”

Her way with words is one of the things I love most about her, hell it’s brought us success this far, but I’m not going to tell her that. Her ego is the last thing that needs sprucing.

“For life, ever and ever, Amen,”

she replies, her words fluttering to my heart at the reminder of him.

“Don’t stress out, don’t think about tonight as a whole, just breathe and remember I’ll be right there with you.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me, always second fiddle.”

We both start laughing in unison. Enjoying the moment together, as we continue getting ready for the chaos of the evening.

Looking up at myself, I admire my beauty in this dress, and for the first time, I do not see her staring back at me, judging me, reminding me of that sad, broken girl I once was.

No, I see me, I see Ivy Sage Reed.

Heading into the bathroom, I open the drawer, pulling out my favorite shade of lipstick, refreshing it before it is time to go.

Catching a glance at the clock out of the corner of my eye, my heart begins to flutter.

Fantastic, it’s a quarter past seven, and once again, we are officially forty-five minutes late.

At this point, I’m sure you are already aware of her lipstick choice, as for mine, well, it’s not important, because when we are together, she always steals the show.

She is like a disco ball illuminating a dark room with the flip of a switch.

I am aware I sound salty and unsupportive right now, but the truth is I envy her at times.

She is probably the most striking woman one could have the pleasure to lay eyes on.

I am truly blessed to have her by my side as I navigate life.

She’s just a bit much at times, although I’m sure she feels the same about me, too. I am not a walk in the park myself. I think it’s why we get along so well.

“Ivy, phone.”

Honestly, if Iwasn’t late for the event, I normally wouldn’t race to it, but us being the CEOs and it being our event, not answering would be so unprofessional.

My phone has been going off non-stop. Picking it up, I look to see what’s wrong.

“Fuck, six missed messages from Antonio,” I shout.

I’m a little annoyed because he knows we are always late, but I do appreciate his punctuality and concern. That is certainly hard to come by in Boston.

“Alright, it’s time to go.”

“Phone?”

“Check”

“Bag?”

“Check”

“ Reeeed ?”

“Double check.”

“ Alright, let’s go schmooze our way to more donations, shall we? ”

Red, on behalf of our brokerage firm, hosts a Charity Gala every year to help underprivileged kids through various outreach programs to help them have a better sense of normalization in their lives.

We raise money for many different local charities.

Tonight is this year’s Gala, with a little twist.

She is also being honored with an award for giving back to our community throughout the years.

Foster Care is certainly something near and dear to both of our hearts, so to say tonight is a big night would be an understatement.

I’ve never been one for big spectacles or public speaking, but that is Red’s comfort zone, so I know her speech will be flawless.

Luckily, I get to sit back and watch her do what she does best and just smile.

It’s one of the many benefits of a co-partnership, especially since I am the silent partner as far as the world is concerned.

We produced this arrangement so I could help her but not have the spotlight she so graciously yearns for.

I get ill at the thought of standing in front of five people, let alone a few hundred; I can’t imagine it being my full-time job and lifestyle.

The event is certainly a spectacle every year, to say the least.

It’s one of the most looked forward to events by anyone who is someone.

We are talking about politicians, CEOs, celebrities, world-renowned architects, realtors, and obviously, Boston’s local elite.

People come from all over the country every year to attend our Gala, and it truly is something to be proud of.

Proud of it, we are.

Proud of us, I am.

Antonio rolls down the window that separates us. “Four minutes out, I can already see the lights in the sky.”

Ugh, if my stomach was not in my throat already, it certainly is now.

“Thanks so much, Antonio.”

“Is your speech solid?”

Not sure why I am asking this. Red could honestly write one while accepting our award on a whim at gunpoint. I’ve always said she sold herself short sticking with me in the realty world, not that we aren’t successful, because we are, but Red was definitely designed for a glamorous life in politics. Her gift of gab is unmatched. I guess she’s why we own Boston’s Top Broker Firm and are ranked top three in the United States.

Red pulls out her pocket mirror from her red sequined clutch, brushing her hair back from her face as she re-applies her lipstick completely unbothered.

“It’s as ready as it’s going to be. Are you ready is the real question?”

Here we go with the jokes again.

“ Not sure I have a choice now, do I ?”

“ No, you don’t, but I am proud of you, and if I haven’t told you that lately, now I have. ”

“ Thanks Red, you too. ”

“Now, let’s go get this party started. We have an entrance everyone has been waiting for.”

And they have been waiting for an hour and a half.

“ You lead, I’ll follow, ” I reply .

I hear Antonio’s door close, which means he’s only a few seconds from opening ours. The lights are so bright, and I can feel the panic running through my body like a river flowing through its banks on a crisp fall day. I had hoped, with being an hour late at this point, that the non-attenders standing outside would have thinned out and the paparazzi would have subsided a little, but as I look out waiting for Antonio, I find that it was just wishful thinking. A knock at the window frightens me.

God, I hate it every time he does it, but do appreciate him always checking to confirm we are ready before he opens the door. In our line of work, he has learned that as soon as the door is opened, the flashes from the cameras will start coming a mile a minute, and contrary to what people believe, bad press isn’t always good press.

“Just a moment, please,” I shout.

“What do you need a minute for? We are already late; pull it together.”

“I just need a moment Red, damn. Can’t a girl have a moment to get her thoughts straight—fuck.”

Sometimes, I just wish she would realize that just because she is the way she is doesn’t mean I have to be like that, too.

I have issues, more than I’d like to admit at times.

Obviously, I wish I had her confidence, but I don’t.

After all, I took the silent partnership.

Not everyone can love the spotlight, not everyone can command a room, and not everyone enjoys having hundreds of people staring at them.

I want to be her at times, but I’m not; God help us if she is what I ever become.

It works for her, not so much for me.

“Okay, okay, I’m ready,”

trails off my lips as I shake my hands vigorously, trying to shake the jitters.

Red knocks on the window, signaling to Antonio that he can open the door.

“Red,”

Antonio says with a smile as she exits from the back, reaching out his hand to assist her down the red carpet laid out in front of us.

Antonio doesn’t acknowledge me.

Honestly, I’m not offended.

I am used to going unnoticed, and I am quite sure he has a thing for Red, as most men do.

I am aware she is the beauty, and I am the brains.

It is 2022, and beauty is the world’s most captivating human interest.

Don’t believe me? Well, you must have never scrolled through TikTok or any social media platform, for that matter.

Sex sells, and Red, well, she gives that shit out like Mardi Gras beads in New Orleans.

I can barely see in front of me to walk straight.

Flashes are clicking from ever direction, a mile a minute.

My eyes squirm, trying to escape them.

It is like walking through a Nor’easter on a frigid New England day.

Visibility zero.

Luckily, I have her to follow.

We stop taking some photos for the important ones, you know, People, Life N’ Style, and Forbes, to name a few.

Red shakes a few hands while making sure to take a generous amount of selfies with young girls and women who look up to her and aspire to achieve the greatness she has.

Pose and smile, pose and smile.

I am genuinely impressed with how well I am handling this, considering how five minutes ago, I felt like my lungs were full of ice and my extremities were being boiled.

Thank you, Xanax.

The event is going smoothly, which I expected between Red and I.

Her speech was impeccable, and her ability to move through the room was flawless.

We raised more than our original goal, coming in at roughly one hundred twenty-three thousand, to put into the various charities we work with.

In the end doubling our total once we cut a check ourselves to match the donations raised here tonight, as we do every year.

All of the speeches and honors are over, and by the look of the intoxicated crowd, our open bar has served well, and we are entering the part of the event where food may be a necessity.

Thank God the servers are coming around with trays of sobriety because I am certain everyone in the room is about three drinks past their limits on empty stomachs.

I know I certainly am.

Reaching out to Red as I prepare a fresh Maine lobster piece on my fork.

“Red, you killed your speech.”

“Now you can breathe better, I take it?”

she utters while shoving the most beautiful lobster bite into her mouth before bringing her napkin up blotting her mouth, sure not to smear her perfectly painted lips.I mean, it’s New England. What else would we be serving?

“Yes, I absolutely can, thanks for asking,”

I sarcastically respond.

Taking a moment, I look around the room at all we have accomplished together.

My mind drifts off, remembering all the years it took us to get to this point from where we came from.

Pride written all over my face, I take in all the room has to offer.

We certainly can conquer the world as long as we continue to work together and not against one another.

We fail at it from time to time; however, for the most part, our partnership and friendship have had fewer waves and more sailing, thank God, cause the riptides can be disastrous.

The room truly is stunning.

Red did such an amazing job; although I did have some influence, she deserves all the credit.

I catch a glimpse of the children from various homes around the city all on the dance floor, living their best life, even if it is just for the night.

Their smiles are my entire world, and I can’t help but think back to my most special day as a kid, rubbing my finger.I’m aware most people come for the socialite atmosphere, open bar, and lobster meal over the true reason for the event.

However, whatever opens their wallets is my philosophy, and seeing these kids in their moment makes me believe it’s worth it with every fiber of my being tenfold.

Hell, it would all be worth it if it was just one child, safe, smiling, happy, and dancing for the night.

We are blessed to have created this night for the hundreds who attend and the thousands we help outside of the event every year.

Looking down, I place a piece of lobster on my fork, dipping it in the most perfectly melted and seasoned butter. Laughter fills our table as fishing stories unfold per the men. O’Connor begins telling his tale.

“There I was, a thousand miles off the coast of the Hawaiian archipelago, Kiritimati Island, with the sexiest woman alive on my boat. The sun in my eyes radiating off her long blonde hair; life could not have been better. The boat had just finished rocking, if you know what I mean, and the wind was singing when suddenly my rod took a dive further and deeper than I had ever seen it bend before. I raced to grab it, but I tripped over a fuhking rope. Fuck me and his Irish accent.

Tumbling forward, right before the rod snapped out of the holder, I glided across the boat floor and somehow managed to grab onto that fuhker.

No shit, I spent like an hour fighting that fuhking fish.

But when I finally got it up and on my boat, man, I had never seen a yellow-tailed tuna like that before.

It was huge.

It had to have been a world record for sure.

Something about their deep blue backs, silver bellies, and yellow fins sure makes a million-dollar boat that much prettier, although the view was worth even more before the fish joined us,”

he exclaims.

“Especially once it’s sliced perfectly on my plate,”

Olive interjects.

“I’m more certain you caught a world record fish than I am of you having the sexiest woman alive on your boat,”

Lucas teases.

Laughs fill the air around the table, doubt in their minds to the validity of O’Connor’s remembrance of events.

“Yeah, she sure was perfect, beautiful, still is,”

he mutters, his voice no longer being spoken from his diaphragm, now leaking from his throat, as if he is remembering a notable time, a moment, a scar. His body physically retreating from the conversation, tipping his head down towards the table, he reaches for his drink—his silence so fucking loud. Olive clears her throat aggressively into the void of the shift of emotions now gracing our table. I toss her a side eye before tracing my eyes around the table until they land on O’Connor as I begin to speak.

“I bet she—”

Suddenly, my words can’t form, my tongue feels like that of a cat, I am washed over by a cold sweat, and the room has begun spinning.

My eyes zero in on a man directly behind O’Connor off in the distance.

One hand tucked in his pocket, his back pressed against the dark red rose-covered trellis wall.

His other caressing a crystal glass I am certain holds nothing other than the finest scotch.

I close my eyes momentarily, hoping my vision is that of my imagination, before re-opening them only to find him still standing there, and it comes to fruition with full force right here in this moment.

Somehow, my past has landed in my present.

His chestnut-brown eyes glare at me as he raises his glass with the coldest of hands one could ever touch.

I am sure if anything has changed about him, that has not.

My stomach is officially in my throat again, and suddenly, food seems like the worst idea.

Immediately, I am alerted to the fact Red has zeroed in on him just as I, and I can feel the turmoil beginning to build between us.

I’m going to be sick .

“Why is he here? And most importantly, how did he get into the event?”

I whisper.

Red doesn’t say a word; in fact, she is so busy gazing off like the entire room and everyone in it has completely disappeared that I am not even sure she remembers I am here. All that exists is her and him. I feel ill. Nothing good is going to come from this and to be honest, this moment could not get any worse.

She whispers to me, her voice steady, her body still like a knight’s armor, “Like he needs to be on a list. We will get through this, just as we have done before.”

We both take a moment before giving him the acknowledgment he is craving in his random appearance from both of us. Red lifts her glass from the table, raising it up in his direction. His face is polished and endearing in form. Fuck-that chiseled jawline. At this moment, I know the subject of our conversation over coffee tomorrow morning. I will have to painfully sit through all the details while trying to disentangle years of my emotions.

This cannot be happening. I need another Xanax pronto.

His tongue glides across the bottom of his lip lightly as he lifts the rim to his mouth, his leg lunging him off the wall. I watch as his steps bring him closer to us with each stride, his body exuding command and control. I can feel myself slipping away as he closes in the distance. My chest begins growing heavier, my breaths escaping louder and louder, matching the rise and fall of my chest.

Lord are we in trouble. I can’t, I just fucking can’t, seeing him in the flesh after all this time.

“Good evening, Red.”

His sultry voice captivating her with only three words.

“Tayden Bergess, my love, how are you? To what do we owe this pleasure?”

Red draws out.

Seriously Red, pleasure? More like hell.

I am emotionally sinking in my seat right now.

Please do not acknowledge me. Please don’t.

He does not. I am certain he knows I have emotionally checked out. May seem odd to others, but since we were kids, his ability to read me has been nothing less than exquisite. No matter the time or distance, he is all-knowing when it comes to my emotions, his ability only growing throughout the years. He knows, and I know that I am shaking in my skin. I become aware that this is where I need to excuse myself completely, and that is precisely what I do. I have nothing to say to either of them.

This changes everything because nothing is ever as it seems…

Dear Diary,

Date: Sometime in the 90’s, does it matter?

Sup!!!!!! Sorry it’s been so long…..Today sucked balls, like big ones. Well, kinda, there was a little good, but let’s start with the bad first.

Honestly, I am convinced I will never truly have friends, nor will I understand the small minds within them. I really wish I had friends though.

I’m so lonely.

Mrs.

Davis was amazing as usual, grading her papers and smiling every chance she got.

I am convinced she is the mother to one of those families that sit around at the dinner table at night together, and everyone gathers at her home for the holidays, telling stories and catching up on their year’s accomplishments filled with light, love, and laughter.

God what I’d give to have a family like that.

I spent most of the day in Mrs.

K’s office again.

Fucking Jessica, I swear I’d love to kill her, knowing what today’s adventures will bring me once my father gets wind.

It’s only a matter of time before I’m sent away again, and honestly, I’m not sure I can take much more.

It truly wasn’t my fault this time, although is it really ever? lol, I know I play a role, but people need to learn to respect others, and when they don’t, I feel I do what’s necessary to defend myself and dish the lesson plan in their direction.

Maybe I am fucked up? It’s a possibility at this point, considering all I have been exposed to.

Some things way before my time, and others that no human should ever know exist here in reality and not just in the fictions.

Either way, it’s getting harder to believe I will ever find peace, much less happiness within myself.

Sitting in the office the rest of the day, I thought to myself while looking around at all the office ladies moving on with their day, laughing and wearing their masks so well, that I’m not sure I can wear mine much longer.

The thoughts started rolling in; maybe my only out is the gun cabinet my father keeps locked in his office.

Obviously, the key is in the drawer, dumbass.

Maybe I should end it all before there is more than I can endure.

At least I can die with a piece of me left.

Pathetic when you think about it since I’m only in elementary school, and I should have my whole life ahead of me.

Even more sad, I would choose to turn it on myself before my abuser, but that news line would just prove his narrative, the other way proving mine, although it probably wouldn’t.

It would just allow him the luxury of playing the saddened father who tried everything to help his poor, messed up daughter and failed while also allowing him to speak on my mental health, forgetting he is the devil pulling all the strings and I’m just his captive.

God, he’d fucking love that narrative so much it would be a gift to him.

One I’m not sure I’m willing to give.

I’m fucked living, and I’m fucked dead.

I thought school would have noticed by now, and questions would start arising from my behavior about my home life, but they never do because rich people can’t apparently have something wrong within their home.

How can a rich kid be abused? Fucking dumbasses.

As far as I’m concerned, they are all complacent in my downfall, as is my father and his fucking mask that I am sure will kill me way before my time and certainly before the world ever sees behind it.

I’d love nothing more than to reveal him to the world, but I am learning the more I try to do that, the harder my life becomes and the worse the picture is painted of me.

On another note, Dad’s newest wife, number four to be exact, (have to get my digs where I can) decided I didn’t need to attend cheer anymore and enrolled me in martial arts.

Imagine that, take away my one constant since I was two, that I am good at, and throw me into a man’s world like I haven’t been trapped in it my whole life.

She’s fun and young, but let’s be honest, with a 28 year age gap, I doubt it will last long.

Who knows, maybe she will be my savior; yeah right, nobody is saving me but me.

If anything, she will be a nice distraction for a while.

I give it a year tops; they never stick around once they learn who he really is.

That’s why I haven’t written to you in a while.

I’ve been doing karate every night after school, and I’m too tired when I get home.

Anywayz…… Let’s get to the good… Soooooooo there is this boy at the studio, there’s something about him my brain is drawn to.

He’s certainly not like other crushes I have had as far as looks, but there is something that’s been there between us.

I guess that’s what makes him different.

He likes me back, lol.

He looks at me, and I get butterflies in my stomach.

Anywhoooo, so I had to ride the bus for the first time today, and he was riding it, too.

He said hi to me for the first time, and his voice with my name was ekkkkk hot!!!

We sat next to each other on the bus, and honestly, I felt so awkward, like did my pits stink? Were my granny panties hanging out of my jeans when I stood up? Hahaha!! I know, so dumb, but it’s true.

The fact that Tayden was sitting so close to me, his leg literally touching me, was dreamy.

I won’t lie, I just listened to my headphones until he so rudely started talking music with me.

It’s funny how I’m more of an R my shit life is calling, as is my master.

I promise to write soon and give you all the deets best frrrrriiiiieeeeeend!! My only friend, 4EVA!!!

Sincerely,

IV’ zzzzzzz