11. Fae
FAE
The vibrations pull me out of my dream. I groan as I stretch for my phone on the bedside cabinet.
After I finished baring my soul to Roman yesterday, he went weird.
I can’t work out how he went from finding any excuse to touch me to pulling back the second he brushed against me.
I’ve had people use me, want me, reduce me to something they could take.
I’ve never had someone reject me like Roman did.
I should be grateful. It takes away the confusion of whatever this is between us, but I can’t ignore the disappointment sitting heavy in my chest. We didn’t really talk after that and he drove me straight home.
My room had been completely fixed. I can only assume Felix saw me crawling out of Roman’s bed, had a heart attack, and decided to sort my destroyed bedroom out himself.
My room is washed in pale, calming tones that make it feel deliberately restrained.
Robyn was the colour in this home and I liked it that way.
Without her, everything feels bland. I love my room just as much as I love hers.
She is chaos and colour; I am deliberate and restrained.
Soft white walls catch the daylight spilling through the curtains I forgot to close last night as the light settles across the space and makes everything feel clean and airy without turning it cold.
The wood floor beneath is natural oak, smooth and lightly grained, adding warmth, and a large rug sits beneath the bed, somewhere between sand and stone, softening the room and dulling any sound.
The king-size bed dominates the space, framed in solid wood to match the flooring.
The bedding is layered but understated. Unlike Robyn, making my bed every day is non-negotiable.
Crisp white sheets, plush earthy pillows stacked neatly, and a cream throw drapes across the edge.
Even the sparse furniture follows the same quiet order.
It is calm and everything I want in life.
I once heard the phrase a messy room is a messy mind and it stuck with me. Since then, everything is orderly. Minus the few personal touches I recently destroyed, it looks more like a showroom than a bedroom.
I open my phone and check the time, a slew of messages are waiting from Victor, Atlas, Riggs, and Felix.
My stomach sinks when I see Roman hasn’t reached out, even though I knew better.
No matter how hard it was to tell my story yesterday, I knew I had to keep going.
I think, in a way, it was a test. I needed to see whether he would side with the founders or whether he would understand and stand with me.
Not just me, but Felix too.
I was eighteen when I finally told Felix everything.
For a long time, he did everything he could to stay out of the house.
When we finally opened up about what happened, it was easy to forgive him for leaving.
He was just as abused as I was. The only difference is, he realised it for what it was and I didn’t.
He used to ask me all the time to tell him what was going on, but I always insisted everything was fine.
I think that broke him. He saw it as betrayal, as me not trusting him.
What he didn’t realise is that I had been groomed to believe everything was fine.
It wasn’t a reflection of how much I loved or trusted my brother, it was how warped my understanding of normal had become.
How can someone tell you something is wrong when you have no idea what normal is?
It’s not like I went to friends’ houses or saw other fathers with their children.
I was isolated by design, kept exactly where I was meant to be.
The only person I ever saw being parented was Felix and he wasn’t a stranger to Father’s punishments either.
It was Robyn who made me realise that what I went through wasn’t normal, but in fact very, very wrong.
We were sitting in the kitchen of our old dorm, sipping wine, when she started to open up about her upbringing.
At first, I didn’t understand the emotion behind it.
Most of what she said was what I went through too.
So when I saw her crying, I was shocked.
This loud, confident, happy girl, was worked up and twisted over something I thought was normal.
When I tried to support her, when I told her I’d been through similar things and that it was okay, she just stared at me.
I will never forget the look she gave me that night.
Pure, unfiltered pain. Not for herself, but for me.
“It’s not normal, girly pop,” she said, squeezing my hand over the counter. “Adults aren’t meant to hurt children. You know that, don’t you?”
I didn’t respond. How could I? I had no idea what to say, but Robyn did. She always did.
“It’s illegal, what they did to me, Fae. It’s illegal what they did to you too. It’s called child abuse…”
After that, I started researching what child abuse actually looked like.
The different types, the patterns, the language around it and then finally told Felix everything.
For the first time in my life, I understood what he’d been asking from me all those years.
We cried together, then made our own plan.
Of course, it will be easier for him. He’ll live relatively free outside of the compound, shadow Father, then step into his role at the company.
Felix will only ever be called in when needed.
Me on the other hand?
I’ll be watched and controlled by them for the rest of my life. If what Dr Fisher said is true…then it’s even more than I’m already bracing for.
I groan. I need to tell Felix what Dr Fisher said. We may need to shorten our timeline to nine months so I can help him as much as possible. The thing is, Father thought he broke us, but all he did was create survivors. I am not dead yet. And I will not stop until I am.
Picking up my phone, I scroll until I open our chat.
Felix:
are you going to try and go into uni today?
Fae:
I probably should. Father will have a fit. It’s been too long. I’m sure I’ll get called in if I don’t.
Felix:
shall I pick you up?
Fae:
go on then, if that’s okay? I need to talk to you anyway.
Felix:
yeah, I’ll be 30 mins. get the coffee on
Putting my phone down, I make my bed just how I like it before I jump in the shower.
Once I’m done, I brush my teeth and throw my hair up into a messy bun.
Going to a university like mine means you can’t ever turn up half-hearted.
The vultures will eat you alive, so I go through the motions of doing my makeup.
I’ve perfected the routine to the point it takes no time at all. Primer, foundation, concealer, blusher, highlighter. I finish with a subtle pair of false lashes, dab Dior Addict lip oil over my lips, and get dressed.
It’s October, and autumn has finally settled in.
Of course, living in England, that doesn’t really mean much.
One year it’s mild, the next we’re hit with cold snaps out of nowhere.
Essex is the driest county in England though, so I settle on boyfriend jeans, chestnut low-rise Ugg boots, a fitted white tank top, and a knitted chestnut cardigan.
Pulling out one of my many brown designer bags, I add my MacBook, charger, house keys, and travel perfume.
I’m just about ready when my door bangs shut.
“Do you ever think to knock?” I shout into the hallway.
“What would be the reason for that? I’m saving you a job,” Felix calls back.
“I could have been naked.” I start walking towards him, feeling mischievous. “Or masturbating, or fucking, or—”
“Okayyy.” He covers my mouth with his hand, pulling me into a hug. “I get the picture. I’ll knock next time.”
I chuckle as I pull away, making my way to the open-plan kitchen and pressing the kettle on.
“Thanks for sorting my room out, by the way.” I spin and give him a smile.
He looks less stressed today. His beard is freshly shaved, his green eyes are brighter, and his vanilla and tobacco scent is stronger than it has been the last few days.
I’m not sure why we both gravitate towards vanilla. It wasn’t something I even noticed until Robyn pointed it out. He buys Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille like it’s going out of fashion. I can’t talk though; I wear a mix of Tom Ford Vanilla Sex and Dolce & Gabbana Honey Oud like it solves world hunger.
I secretly love it. I don’t know if Felix feels the same, but somewhere along the way, vanilla became comfort for us. We just made it our own.
“I didn’t sort your room out.” He bristles as I frown, then storms through the flat and pushes my bedroom door open.
One day, I’m going to purposely tie a man up and leave him naked on my bed just to give Felix the shock of his life. He genuinely doesn’t understand boundaries when it comes to me.
“What do you mean you didn’t sort my room out? Who did?”
Felix sniffs, then turns back to me. “Well, it certainly wasn’t Father. Who else has a key, Fae?”
“Nobody,” I exclaim.
“Well, somebody fucking does,” he jerks his thumb over his shoulder towards the now spotless bedroom.
My mind spins as I try to piece it together. I was sure Felix had done it. Like he said, it definitely wasn’t Father. I can’t picture him suddenly turning into some doting, concerned role model.
My next guess would have been Robyn, but for obvious reasons, it can’t be her.
Maybe Atlas? Did he come round while I was out with Roman yesterday, looking through Robyn’s things?
Although, the idea of him even noticing my room was a mess feels unlikely.
Every room he steps into ends up looking like a bomb’s gone off.
“What about Roman?” Felix asks and I groan at his name.
“No fucking way was this Roman.”
“Why not? You are sleeping with each other,’ he points at me, and I can already feel my anger starting to rise. I wish I wasn’t so quick to snap. It’s like everything sitting under my skin is always right there, ready to boil over at the worst times.