Lovita Fawcett was the founder of Phoenix?! Maybe Loretta knew maybe she didn't including all the other people out there. But to me that's news.
At Anne's party I came to know about this name from Freya. She told me his mother died of a heart attack. She didn't spill extras like her being the founder of his father's company. Can't blame her though. There was drama in the entire air that evening. Every action has specific timing I guess.
"He came to her as a interviewee." He scoffs. "They...fell in love. Not that I believe such nonsense. A man like him and love?" His face contorts in rage wrapped in agony. He inclines on the couch, now facing me. "They got married. Mother...my mother," he looks up at the ceiling. "Gave most of it to him. He became the manager. Everything felt so surreal, so perfect of a family. Her love for him each day grew stronger but... I could still get a tiny peek of his inner world, his mind. After all, I'm his son."
"Levi please." I sit beside him on the couch sensing his need for me-more than ever. More than anything that matters to him now.
I squeeze his hand at which he flinches for a second then lets me take hold of his hand.
"You know mom used to tell me that I'd be the future pride of Phoenix-the only heir. She always insisted on that."
This time I reach out to stroke the darkest threads of exotic silk-his hair, slightly knotted at the edges.
He settles his head on my lap and I feel an irrepressible urge to soothe him.
"It belongs to me I knew. And now that's under my name. It was me who was never interested in business." He gives a wry smile. "From Phoenix he thrived. And now his idiot son is entitled to the very thing that began everything for him cause he's expanded his business over the years."
My hand in his hair gets stuck realising the strain in his voice.
"Loretta..."
His once silvery rouge tone has shattered now and the corners of his glassy crystalline eyes-red. But he clenches his jaw again in a stubborn manner covering his beautiful face with a facade of flawed serenity.
"A month. Just a month had elasped. He brought home his mistress who claimed to marry him-so that his empty burdened heart will be filled with happiness again."
Janet. That's the mistress. I clutch at the piece of cloth near my chest-to ease the unknown sudden ache I never had before.
"Am I so naive to think that he found Janet after mom..."
I lay one of my hands on his face and one single burdened tear glides down his right cheek. He blinks strenuously and I realise my own vision have grown hazy.
"No. He already fell for her while she was still with us. But she never knew that. She died as a beloved wife, a happy mother."
The drops begin rolling down my face seamlessly and I make no attempt to wipe them off. Instead my grasp onto him tightens as I close my eyes. I've never had such a terrible ache swelling up in my bosom.
"No! Why you..?" He lays a palm on my face with a pained gasp. Loretta please... you can't. I won't let you."
Every family has ghosts locked up in their cupboards and at times they tug on our souls our existence to make their way back in our present in the purpose of forever fastening the sturdy rope of future hauntings and melancholic horrors.
For now I'm not able to feel pathetic for my past cause I know I was never the only one suffering.
Time walks on a chiffon thread as two souls bearing tragic sentiments sing on the frail tunes of woes.
Forgiving Norman Fawcett will be harder-even for me. I wonder what my father thought of me when he left me outside the orphanage- I can't seem to remember a lot of things now including his face.
"I guess we'll be fine here," he mutters. "If you don't want to go back."
When I pull myself away from his warmth realising my cheeks have long dried I say, "To say the truth... yes. But that won't be right. Everyone's waiting for us Levi. We can't run away from certain things."
"Then let's go back." He agrees almost immediately.
"Not now. I need some alone time."
"I came here that day to reassemble my thoughts which remained scattered for a long time." He gives me a lavish grin. "For so many years I hated this house. He didn't deserve this or her. But that evening I recalled her smile-the priceless little thing which adorned her small face... I knew she would've wanted me to keep it-in its proper semblance-her last memories."
"Yes. And I'm glad that you brought it back to its glory." I return him an approved grin.
"You can come here whenever you want. Stay here as many days as you like. From this day," he takes a step towards me, his gaze intense. "This place will be a part of your memories too."
"I... This means the world to me Levi."
••••
An hour passes and I still am unable to arrange my feelings. What will happen when I get home? How should I start the conversation with Nero? What would've happened that night if I didn't go back? Will he ever open up to me? What if he shuts himself off after seeing me? Out of them three Nero is the most... different and difficult to grip. Ugh!
If only I could write down my thoughts on a diary. I used to have one. Diarizing was what I started when I turned 19. I'm not sure why I stopped at 21. Maybe it's time that I hardly had for myself or my mind refused internally to write more about my pathetic life. After that job I had little time for story writing. I lost my youth to misery. Just thinking about it makes my mind terribly blank-devoid of emotions. If Levi met me before he'd have hated me. Hell I hated my ownself.
Jotting down my thoughts is like writing stories, right? This debate, this angst war between my subconscious mind and my memories-back and forth— snatching my spirit away... I'm losing it.
As the nib of my pen touches the surface of a small pocket diary, I shudder. Other than books there are several backdated diaries on this shelf in this house.
I have only written three lines and my current state of mind but on the fourth line that ever familiar ache penetrate my heart and I Iose all my strength to even sit straight in a spilt second.
The curse of waking up in another body only was in my mind and I didn't even write it yet. But I wanted to. And I want to... badly. That's what triggered it. I clutch at my chest groaning.
The doorbell rings. Is he back? He didn't literally have to leave the entire house to me— to have my alone time.
Gah! Why did I have to lock the front door. The knocking turns to banging this time.
"Open the door Loretta. Are you okay?"
The ache sharpen piercing my heart viciously. "Levi..." I wail out to him dizzily before everything goes blurry.
••••
"Loretta! Loretta?" The deliberate pleading of a voice carrying my name with it echoes in the foggy dimness of my mind.
My eyelids flutter open feeling a faint tightness still there but the pain is gone. How did have I stayed like that? I get up clumsily finding the pen still in my clenched fist.
A tremor overtakes my senses and I throw it with all my strength.
"Woah easy there... what did that thing do?"
He caresses my face with a sceptical look in his eyes. Then the flipped diary near the bed catches his attention.
"What were you doing exactly?"
"Uh... Nothing."
"You were unconscious for 15 minutes Loretta! That isn't nothing." He reaches for the diary.
"Levi don't!"
Despite my protest he turns it over, holds it before his face for a few seconds before closing it back.
"I can't really demand an explanation from you but it's the least you can do Loretta."
I lower my head, against my own hands. I can't Levi. As long as I live I can't. Unless someone else does which is impossible and it'll never happen.
This is a curse. A repentance. A punishment I have to live with. But if the situation ever comes to where he learns the truth-will he ever acknowledge me? Even as a friend?
Loretta Knight stopped existing since the 9th day of July. This is me. Will he ever...in his right mind, accept me?
"Loretta??? You're sweating-is everything okay?" He checks my forehead.
I grasp his hand-his eyes lower to my mouth.
"The temperature seems normal to me. Hm...are you worried about something?"
He gives me a melancholic smile when I don't reply. "It's okay. Now's probably not the time. Whenever you feel ready-I'll be there."
••••
Everyone welcomes us when we get home. Except Nero.
"Where's he?" I ask Myria. I find her expression gloomy.
Levi plops down on the sofa. "Where's our artist?"
"On vacation," Sofia replies.
I open my mouth to speak but then close it again afraid of saying something weird.
"For how long?" Levi asks realising my concern.
"That he didn't mention... And to be honest we didn't dare ask him that," says Myria.
"After everything that... A break is well deserved for everyone."
"But surely he told you where he's went..?"
I fiddle with my hair in anxiety. Both Myria and Sofia shake their heads and by judging Jeremy and Roland's face I realise they are clueless as well.
I've still eight days left for the concert. I never attended any kind of concert before let alone performing by myself in front of all the people... I haven't got enough time to practice in the last few days and now this new dilemma-I don't know if I will be able to concentrate on piano until I get Nero back.
If I can't have my friends beside me- rooting for me-on my special day, how will I be able to shine?
Right now I want to drown myself in a bucket full of water. Ughh..!
"Lori darling, why are you walking in a sluggish way? It's like the previous stage of apes before they became human."
That's her way of lightening the mood.
I pout. "Myria, even a blind person can understand how exhausted I feel... and I am. I spent all noon thinking and rethinking. Now that I'm home... he's gone."
"Levi pulls out his phone. "I'm calling Aiden. I'm sure we'll do something Loretta. This time... together we'll bring him back."
"How? When we don't even know of his whereabouts!"
I throw both of my hands in frustration when something knocks in my head. Grandpa! He's the one Nero's close to. If anyone has the slightest chance of knowing where he could be-it's him.
"Where are you going?"
I ignore Myria's call and run away to his room.
As usual he's half sitting with a rather slim short book in his hands.
"No Longer Human? Grandpa, since when did you become a fan of Dazai?"
He folds the corner of the page before closing the book.
"This one?" He smiles. "My second time reading only because I forgot a lot of parts in it. I never read a book twice but this one is my favourite."
I twiddle with the button on my sleeve.
"Looks like my little grasshopper has a lot on her mind." He lifts his glasses a bit scrutinizing my face.
Nowadays I don't feel like calling him Mr. Morgasson in my head.