The Consolation Prize

Chapter Five

“I am sure,” Monique said, raising the mug of brown coffee to her lips and pouring the warm liquid inside her mouth. Oliver clasped his hands together, his green eyes dull of any emotions. “I have never been so sure in my life,” she added, placing the porcelain mug on the table, creating a crisp sound. Her brown eyes looked determined.

“Monica,” Oliver called Monique in a whisper. Monique recoiled when Oliver called her the wrong name. She had gone quiet and immediately looked away, a bitter feeling nestling on her gut. The air that surrounded them had gone heavier, and she felt Oliver’s fingers graze underneath her chin, pulling her to his pool of green eyes. There was remorse and recognition, and he parted his lips. “I’m sorry, I never intended to call you Monica.” He immediately removed his fingers from her skin gently. “It’s just, I see her in you so much.”

It was like a punch in the gut. A punch that obliterated her existence but she swallowed the feeling and pushed it away, determined that she was doing the right thing. She wanted Oliver to keep him off the press and she wanted to prove to her mother she was capable of being independent without Monica around. “I should get used to it, then,” she replied, suddenly conscious of the stray tendrils that fell across her face. “So, I scheduled an interview with Candy Miller, and our interview will be tomorrow,” she added.

Oliver had a surprised look on his features. He arched his brows, and there was guilt shimmering in his eyes. “You don’t have to do this Monica, I mean, Monique. We don’t need this.”

Monique stubbornly shook her head. She pressed her lips into a thin line. “We both need this, to make the press quiet. They’re bloody trailing in every move we make now.”

“f**k them,” she heard Oliver curse under his breath.

She kept quiet as a response. She weaved her fingers into his, the warmth seeping into her skin. She thought holding Oliver’s hand would be cold but it was the total opposite. “That’s why we need to do this,” she said softly, her eyes convincing Oliver so hard. Only her twin sister could convince him. Only her. And all these things that she was doing needed a lot of effort. She could feel the bitterness plunging inside her again. “We need this interview to keep them quiet, Ollie,” she said and she heard Oliver’s sharp intake of breath.

He recoiled his hand away from her as if it burned him. His eyes dimmed. “Don’t call me that.”

“I’m sorry,” she immediately apologised, the words slipping to her tongue fluidly. Oliver stood up, his broad back about to face her but he opened his mouth, his voice the coldest sound she ever heard, “We’ll only do this for Monica, nothing else.”

He walked away, keeping Monique tensed on her seat. A tear had already settled on her cheek. She hastily wiped it away and in that same day, she cried the second time around. “Big girls don’t cry,” she chanted but it wasn’t convincing her to stop the tears from falling. She stood up, the legs of the chairs creating a squeaky sound against the floor. She stalked her way out of the coffee shop, the rain already drizzling. Her coat dripped in rainwater but she couldn’t care less.

She kept walking, uncaring for what might happen to her until she felt something bump on her, like in those cliché novels she read, like in those cliché movies she saw. The impact rang in every part of her body, vibrating and pulsating against her skin. Her eyes connected to those two blue eyes she would dream on some nights.

She felt her breath tighten against her lungs.

“Nathaniel,” she said in a breathy tone, her heart fluttering. The blonde boy gave her a smile. “Are you stalking me?” she said in a haughty tone, taking a step back from him, crossing her arms in front of her chest. A smirk flitted on her lips.

She had no idea where this cockiness brewed in her. All she could feel was butterflies swarming against her stomach and at the sight of Nathaniel soaked in the rain, it didn’t help to keep those butterflies from flapping. Nathaniel game a smirk of his own and rolled his crystal blue eyes. “Oliver just called me an hour ago, said he wanted to play video games with me,” he answered.

Monique tilted her head sideways. “So that’s why you’re here.”

“Yup.”

“In front of me.”

“Uhuh.”

“Purposefully bumping into me.”

Nathaniel winked. “I guess I just wanted to catch up on how you’re doing with my cousin,” he said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders. “I got to go though, Oliver becomes a possessive girlfriend when it comes to me.”

She let out a hearty laugh, and she hadn’t heard that sound from her for a very long time. She missed those times when her mind was simple, clouded with nothing but innocence. And she wanted to be taken back to those days. But the human mind was never contented on anything. They kept seeking until they found what they saw but in the end, they would still want more.

“Nat, wait!” she shouted, her feet scrambling towards him. Nathaniel stopped, and he turned his head. “Uh, are you available this Saturday?” she stuttered, wringing her hands whilst her fingers were trembling.

“Yeah, kind of, why?”

“I-I, I want to invite you over for d-dinner in m-my apartment, where I’ll c-cook—,”

“Sure, as long as there’s food I’ll go, but just kidding. Dinner sounds nice,” he answered, giving her his sweet smile. Her cheeks went fiery and she immediately hid her cheeks using her hair. It was embarrassing. And she didn’t look as cute as any kitten who could’ve smitten any cat-lover. She was a grumbling mess.

“So I’ll p-pick you up?” she offered and Nathaniel chuckled.

“Yeah, you can,” he answered, “I’ll text you my address.”

“Okay, bye,” she said and Nathaniel gave her a salute. “I’ll be looking forward to it!” he yelled, as he jogged towards where Oliver stood, his eyes busy on his iPad, a stoic look on his face. She sighed in heaviness but at least Nathaniel was able to lighten her mood up. Why couldn’t Oliver try to understand that she was also having a hard time like him? It was unfair for her part but her head rationalised that she should be the bigger person between the two of them.

The rain stopped without her notice.