Page 89 of Marked By Shadows
“I’ve already made it clear I have no intention of returning as an influencer. And the fact that you two show up wearing these super polished costumes while everyone else wears things they scraped together in a couple of hours, what the fuck are you trying to do? Damage everyone’s reputation?”
“That’s not the intent at all,” Freya said. “The company just wanted to show some pictures of their stuff. We’ve been working with their line for a while. Having the variety will show people how versatile their fabric is, for pros and for those in a hurry.”
“Except my costume. Mine wasn’t good enough to be in public?” And that made me even angrier. I’d worked hard on that, finished seams with perfect top stitch and created a realistic costume that could have been judged top of the line. My only gripe had been some of the fabrics, which had been thinner than I’d have liked, and the drape hadn’t lain right. Had I more time I would have chosen other fabrics, but that was part of the process. The idea that they decided my hard work wasn’t good enough? I wanted to break something.
“Your costume was great,” Freya said. “We just thought this would create more buzz. You’ll look absolutely stunning in it. I’m sure Alex will agree.” She looked at him for some sort of approval.
“I have no intention of ever wearing the costume you made me. I’m not that person anymore. And I’m really beginning to think my place isn’t in this group now. I’m not a sex doll, and Alex doesn’t want me to be either. I’m sorry if that’s all you ever want to be, but you don’t get to force me into that role.”
Freya looked like I’d slapped her. She sucked in a deep breath, turned and stalked away.
“Freya worked really hard on that,” MaryAnn said. “She wanted it to be perfect for you.”
“Maybe she should have picked something that better fits my personality now instead of who I was five years ago? Proves how little any of you know me or obviously care to know me. I’m done with all of this.” I was so mad I wanted to chase after her and demand my costume back. I had worked hard on that. But in reality, it didn’t matter. It was just some fabric. I could make another if I wanted. Instead, I left the dressing area and went in search of the manager of the booth, planning to explain the mishap and offer repayment for the donated sewing machine if they were upset about me not appearing in their event today. And I would not be appearing. In fact, this whole convention was over for me.
I hadn’t realized Alex had followed me until he touched my back lightly, as I was explaining to the guy in charge what had happened. “We can pay for the machine,” I added at the end. “Since we donated it to the non-profit. It would be unfair to ask for it back.”
It would hurt. I would never have spent eight grand on an embroidery machine. Neither Alex nor I would ever use it. I vaguely wondered what finances I could move around to free up enough cash for that. We’d both been spending a little recklessly.
“It’s fine,” the manager said. “We’ll use the non-profit as promo. I would have liked to see the outfits you created. Do you have pictures you can send?”
I didn’t. And that made me angrier. Something else Freya had taken.
“Not yet. But we can take a few over the next few days. Once we get Micah’s costume back,” Alex said. “Can we email them to you? We feel really bad. I know that machine was expensive. We have some other prizes too. Freya said you guys donated most of it. I can return the computer and software.”
“We only donated the sewing machine and some fabric,” the manager corrected him. “Anything else was donated by the group. And helping the non-profit will be good press. We’ve already talked to the co-founder quite a bit today and are donating more fabric and a few more simplistic machines.”
“There’s Chad,” Alex said, waving to Chad as he was entering the booth area, obviously looking for the changing booths. He headed our way.
I didn’t realize how upset I really was until Alex hugged me, and Chad was walking away toward the dressing area. I had completely missed their conversation, too tuned into all the noise in my head. The manager was back to chatting with customers and directing people. Alex steered me out of the booth and toward the exit.
“If we return our machine we could pay back half of the cost of that machine,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry. I know how much you want that machine.”
“A quarter of it, and no. We won’t be returning our machine. Chad is trading the fancy one in for a few smaller ones. So the company will do another giveaway for it. Make a big to-do about the non-profit and get good press. We don’t need to do anything,” Alex said. He led me out of the convention to the area to wait for the bus and I realized his hands were full with our purchases and his garment bag.
“Sorry. Let me help with some of that.”
“I’m fine. It’s just stuff. All in bags.”
“We’ll have to give back the computer.”
“How about you not worry about that right now?” Alex said. The bus arrived, and I picked up two bags despite his protests. We rode the entire way back to the car lot in silence. The noise in my head deafening. I stared out the window, working hard to count my breathing, and keep from dissolving. Wasn’t I better than this? Wasn’t two years long enough to heal? Perhaps it wasn’t all related to my disappearance at all. It was me being broken again.
We made our way to the car and loaded up the back. I stared at the driver’s seat, knowing I should take it, but not at all in a clear head space to do so. Dammit.
Alex hugged me hard, pressing my face into his shoulder and squeezing me until it was difficult to breathe. “We’re fine. I promise. Fuck, I can almost see the noise in your head. I hate seeing your eyes so dark. Lost.”
“I thought she was my friend,” I whispered. And that was the bombshell. Despite keeping her at a distance, I had believed Freya was a friend. Even confided stuff to her I rarely shared with anyone. No, she wasn’t as close as Alex or Sky, but I’d trusted her, looked up to her.
“Even friends make mistakes. Let’s go get a late lunch. You think your favorite Asian place is open? That was pretty good.”
“Not hungry,” I muttered.
“You haven’t eaten anything today.”
“Fruit,” I said.
“Two strawberries is not enough to sustain anyone.” He led me to the passenger seat of the car.