25. Elyssa
ELYSSA
“ I read it a little since I’ve had it,” Konstantin said, taking a seat on the chair next to mine.
We found a little alcove on the fourth floor where we sat to talk a little more about the journal. My legs still felt like jelly but I was okay with that. I felt blissfully disconnected from reality, my mind still fuzzy from the aftershocks of an amazing orgasm.
His eagerness had surprised me, but I couldn’t complain. He drank from me like he had been waiting for that his whole life.
Feeling the blood rush to my cheeks I forced myself to stop thinking about what happened earlier, taking a deep breath and opening the journal instead.
“He talks a lot about his childhood, how ashamed he is about what he’s done, which, from what I understood, was murder someone, but I didn’t get to the part where he said who exactly. I also think your theory was right.”
“The one about the sacrifice?” I looked up at him and he nodded.
“Yes. He said something along the lines of ‘her life wasn’t worth the success and recognition I wanted’.”
“He still didn’t name names?”
“No, but he did call the girl who I assumed was his sacrifice ‘B’.”
“Did you get anything else from it?”
“They did weird shit with the blood.”
I felt bile rise in my throat. “How weird are we talking?”
“Weird like douse themselves in it.”
I winced at the mental image his words brought.
“He writes that The Brotherhood always opens the year with three sacrifices to Tyche. They Empty them of their blood and bathe in it. He recalls an incident where one of their blood basins was connected to the piping but they didn't know. It ended up spraying blood in the locker room showers.”
“Oh, my God! Do you think that's what happened that night in the kitchens?”
“Seems like it,” he shrugged.
Just as I was about to ask him about where he’d stopped, my phone, along with his and everyone else’s in the library, judging from the sounds coming from a little bit everywhere around us and on the floors below, vibrated.
We shared a glance before unlocking our respective phones. A video had been sent to seemingly everyone at school, the quality was mediocre but I could make out a brown girl wearing a leotard, twirling on the tip of her toes. It took me a second to recognize Briar.
She danced beautifully, like she was born for it. I couldn’t help but smile as pride welled in my chest. For as long as I had known her, Briar had dreamed of being Black Swan; to see her make her dream come true was simply beautiful.
But then…
Then something horrible happened. A single board from the scene gave out, trapping her feet inside up to her ankle. She lost her balance and fell, her knee bending at a weird angle. I didn’t have the sound on, but Konstantin did and the deafening pop that echoed around us made me flinch. I gasped, my hand coming up to cover my mouth in shock. Tears welled in my eyes to see my best friend, basically a sister, howl out in pain.
Briar screamed, agony written all over her face, as other dancers, including Katarina Korolova, and their teacher rushed to the stage to help her.
The video stopped there, and I found myself staring at the black screen for a few seconds longer before realizing what just happened.
Briar had broken her knee.
She would most likely be unable to dance again.
“Oh my God, I got to go,” I breathed heavily, gathering my things, ready to run off to the theater to help my friend.
Just as I turned around, heading for the staircase, Konstantin grabbed my elbow.
“Go help your friend, but meet me in the secret room tonight.”
I frowned, “She’ll need me, Konstantin. I don’t know if or when I’ll be able to come down there.”
“I’ll wait. All night if need be. Just… please, meet me there tonight.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but ultimately snapped it shut, giving him a simple nod before he let go of me and I hightailed it out of there.
Today was a sad day. We were all gathered in Briar’s room, as she lay on her bed with her leg propped up and bandaged. Dry tears on her cheeks, eyes red from crying, she stared into nothingness, not even acknowledging our presence.
Mia and I shared a worried look as Sinem silently dried her tears. She hadn’t been able to stop crying since we joined Briar at the infirmary. She had such a pure soul… she felt Briar’s pain like her own.
And so did I. I would never forget the pure suffering on her face when the nurse told her her leg was broken and the scream she let out still replayed in my mind. I couldn’t understand her, I had never been in her shoes. Sure, I had violin and was pretty good at it, but I didn’t love it like she loved dancing. I had taken it on because I’d been forced to, as a good mafia daughter.
But Briar loved dancing, it was the one thing in life that had gotten her through the death of her parents. The one thing in life that still connected her to her mom, who had been a ballet teacher. The fact that nobody could answer her on whether or not she would be able to dance again, even after the inevitable operation she’d have to go through, was the last nail in the coffin.
Her grandfather had been alerted and he was coming tomorrow via helicopter to take her back to the mainland. We had no idea of when she’d be able to come back.
“I danced so many times on that stage. The planks were always sturdy. None of them moved or wobbled,” she whispered to herself more than to us, closing her eyes and letting silent tears fall down her cheeks.
I gulped, then climbed into bed right behind her and wrapped my arms around her for comfort. She had always been the one person I could rely and count on, ever since we met. I had Mia too but she had her own things to deal with and got easily overwhelmed. Mia was fragile and not someone I felt comfortable crying in front of, but Briar?
Briar was there on the nights when my mom had tried killing herself. She was there when we were roommates the first year and I’d wake up crying after a bad dream. She was there when I needed to vent about my family.
She was a sister to me, and it hurt knowing there wasn’t anything I could do to fix this for her.
Using the light on my phone, I walked slowly down the stairs leading to the secret room, the wall shutting down behind me with a quiet thud. I was bone tired, it was well past midnight but I had promised Konstantin that I’d show up, so I would.
Light shone from down the stairs, making me frown. It wasn’t as cold either, and I only discovered why when I stepped into the main room.
“You made a fire?”
Konstantin turned around from where he’d been feeding small pieces of wood into the fireplace. He straightened up and dusted his pants off. He was only wearing black joggers and a matching long-sleeved thermal shirt.
He looked good enough to eat, but my mood was down from everything that happened earlier.
“Yeah, I have no idea where the fumes escape to, but it’s working.”
The sofa was covered by a black sheet, which gave it a cleaner look. I was glad we wouldn’t have to worry about the deeply incrusted dust giving us a rash or something.
I stared at the fire for a few seconds, lost in thought until Konstantin’s voice broke the silence.
“Come here.” He nodded to the spot next to him and I obeyed, too tired to think anything through.
I let myself fall on the couch next to him, and he brought me against his chest. I felt my whole body relax as I let out a deep sigh.
“I have to be up early tomorrow so I can say goodbye before she leaves,” I warned, like a way to say I wasn’t in the mood for anything other than sleep and possibly a few cuddles.
“I’ll make sure to wake you up. Is she… okay?”
It would never not feel weird hearing Konstantin inquire about someone’s well-being, especially someone who wasn’t from his family.
“No, she’s not,” I sniffled, feeling tears of sadness and exhaustion streaming down my face, “her leg is broken in two places and they’re supposed to operate tomorrow. We don’t know if she’ll ever be able to dance again. She’s inconsolable.”
He said nothing and just held me tight. It was crazy how natural it felt to be held by him in this way. I loved it and hated it at the same time. It would be too fucking easy to get used to it, and I just couldn’t afford that. Sex was one thing, but this… this could lead to something far more dangerous.
Still, when Konstantin grabbed my hand and squeezed, I felt more tears well up in my eyes. The gesture brought back memories from a happier time in my life, when my mother was still, well, my mother.
“Do it again, please,” I whispered, closing my eyes and inhaling his citrusy scent.
“What?”
“Squeezing my hand. My… My mom used to do it when I was little. She used to say it was to send me some of her strength whenever I needed it.”
Konstantin stayed silent but he did it again, a little longer this time, and I squeezed back.
“Are you… close to her? Your mom.”
“I used to be. Not anymore.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him why. I felt vulnerable, I needed someone to talk to.
“Are you close to yours?”
He thought about it for a few seconds. “Yes. She understands me in ways most people don’t.”
I hated how envious I felt of him at that moment. To have parents he could rely on, siblings that had his back… to have a family that loved him, as fucked up as they all were. I wanted that.
“Why aren’t you close to your mom anymore?”
Fatigue and sadness made my tongue loosen that night. “She tried killing herself. Three times.”
He stopped moving at my confession and I felt the need to explain.
“I don’t resent her because she has mental issues. It’s just… sometimes it feels like she gave up on me.”
Konstantin squeezed my hand.
“I’m sure you know about my mother’s story. How she fled home to be with a poor taxi driver from Tunisia. Slumming it in Italy for years before she was found again.”
He didn’t say anything but I knew he knew. Everybody did.
“When I was twelve, my father died in a car crash back in Italy. Mom’s family found us and took us back to the US. Mom was… she was devastated by my father’s death. It felt like she lost her will to live after that.”
“But… you were still there. You should’ve been reason enough.”
I gulped, closing my eyes. “I should have been, yes. But I wasn’t.”
“Was she a good mother before that?”
I thought about it deeply. I had always been a daddy’s girl. I loved my mom, but my father… I was his little princess. He worked hard to put food on the table and get me everything I needed. Then there was also Jedde. I spent more time with her than Mom, but Mom was very much present in my life. She’d sew me the cutest outfit and do my hair all pretty.
“She was. We were happy together. But then Baba died for real and mamma died inside.”