carry on. [gia]

[Louise Edna Van Alen]

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One smooth leg.

Then the other.

After the sound of heels softly clicking on the pavement, a leggy female stepped out, skin pale as if it hadn't seen the sun in a good year or two, but nonetheless smooth and blemish free. The twenty two year old female was clad in a form fitting navy dress and patent leather Louboutin pumps. Lace tights seemed to add a nice touch to the look but it wasn't as if she chose this outfit. That was why she had a stylist who helped her choose her outfits every single morning so she wouldn't embarrass the Van Alen family with her lack of fashion know how. She was used to just grabbing anything and just wearing it but now it was different. Times changed and she had to change with them. So out with the old 'Louie' and in with Mrs. Van Alen, the woman fashion magazines now praised for being so savvy and ever so elegant despite it really just being the mastermind genius of her over paid stylist and team of beauticians who always made sure not a single hair was out of place, that her makeup was always refreshing and neat. It was, truly, her husband's idea. Theodore was ever the man into appearances.

Looking down at her phone as she stepped out of the sleek town car, she made a frown, slipping off her discreet Prada sunglasses and handing them absently to the chauffer closing the door behind her, "I'm going for a walk, Angelo," no longer did she have her lazy drawl of a typical surfer. Now her Dutch accent stood out more which came with a few good months in rehab taking speech lessons to prepare herself for the onslaught of the life in the lime light...the realy lime light. With her husband as a senator, it was important to be perfect. Therefore, none of the papers could know about her three still borns over the past two years. They couldn't know about her cervical cancer. They couldn't know about her drug induced, womanizing past. It could tarnish his impeccable reputation and though she wasn't in love with Theodore, she didn't hate him either.

The man in his late forties nodded at her, "What should I tell Senor Van Alen, Senora," she loved his Spanish accent. It reminded her of when she was fifteen and went to Peru for three weeks because she wanted to see Machu Pichu because it was on her bucket list. Louie shrugged her thin shoulders. She knew she looked almost skeletal lately and she also knew there were already rumors circulating that she was anorexic in the gossip papers but there were no confirms. She ate...on rare occasion. But she did eat in public just to put those to rumors at ease, "Don't tell him I'm skipping the doctor's appointment," she stated simply, rubbing her full lips together so her rose lipstick felt more colorful, "I'll be back soon. It's nice out today," she gave him a soft smile and he nodded, returning her smile and then slipping back into the car. She made him stop at a local cafe, loving the tiny place because no one ever really went there unless they knew the old couple who owned it well enough. After all, you had to be patient when you ordered and it was the only place she could find that was close that had French pastries. Not that she ever ate them anymore.

Slipping inside the warmth that immediately surrounded her along with the sweet smells of coffee beans and delicacies, she ordered a simple small coffee, black, and then took a seat in front of the window, gripping the table tightly to steady herself. She knew she was risking everything by keeping the baby growing inside of her stomach but what could she do? She couldn't just kill it...her family-his family-they needed this. They needed this kid or she would have failed both of them...again. She did it with every overdose, with every plane ticket she purchased to run away from her responsibilities, and she wasn't going to run anymore. She was going to stay and work through this. Like a big girl. But the pain in her pelvis certainly wasn't helping at all. Blowing a strand of dirty blond hair out of her face, she glanced down at her coffee and took a sip, glad it was empty. All she had was the simplistic view of cars zooming by, pigeons flying, and a few pedestrians scattered about. She just had to relax, keep calm, and everything would work out just fine.

[gia brigitte carangi]

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She chuckled briefly, put her palm against his lips as he began to sing the lyrics to her current favorite song, as always, by Elton John. Since that brief meeting in Greece, she’d changed drastically. Her hair, once a dark shade of almond, was currently lighter, and her eyes brighter and less exhausted by the attempts to run away; she didn’t feel the urge to abandon things now because a genuine happiness had settled over her in the brief period she’d been married. He licked her hand, and she pulled it away with a shriek and a bout of hysterical laughter. They were walking down the street like any other couple, except of course Gia was supermodel tall and slender, with the exception of a slight, round, protruding belly between her hips - but not enough to be noticeable unless she pointed it out. He was exceptionally gorgeous as well, looking particularly scruffy and dangerous in the messy leather jacket he’d bought from goodwill and she’d fixed up on one of her various stints on the home front. For some reason, he seemed to have a fascination with cheap things, even if he could have the world in the palm of his hand and thoroughly enjoyed spoiling her; she didn’t say much on the subject because she figured he’d just do what he wanted anyway, and she should have no say in what her husband wanted as an adult male. If he wanted a three dollar jacket, for everything he’d done for her, he should have it. Her cheeks had the healthy glow of a baby growing inside of her and a love keeping her warm at night; they slept with him cuddled up to her spine, since she frequently had to pee and any other way would just wake him up. Things seemed almost too perfect, and underneath the extreme happiness was a layer of worry and preoccupation. What would it be this time? Maybe one of them would die. She just hoped, if one of them had to die, it would be her; she couldn’t handle the pain of losing a loved one and she was more then selfish in that way. She always had been. So, Gia cuddled closer into his side and smiled delicately as he wrapped his corded arm around her waist, the leather of her vest making strange sounds as they walked down the streets. With no destination in mind, she didn’t find it peculiar that he dragged her into a furniture store and made her glance at numerous selections of cribs, “But baby, we don’t know what gender yet.” she stated, elbowing him gently; she didn’t intend on telling him when she found out, either. But she had to know at least by the baby shower, so all of his mother’s friends could stop nagging her. “Yeah, I know. I’m just getting ideas.” he replied aimlessly, glancing over another Mahogany crib of hundreds they’d already seen, just before kissing her forehead and leading her out of the store, back onto the street.

And then, she saw it.

The bakery was almost the exact same one, the decorations extremely similar and the menu, from what she could see with her nose pressed against the glass, was nearly the same too. Nervously, she twisted the ring around her finger and glanced anxiously at her husband; he knew she’d met the only other person she ever loved in a café, but he’d never been there because she vehemently refused to return to Geneva, ever. Even if he blindfolded her and took her there she wouldn’t get off the plane and he knew it, so he didn’t bother on that front, but generally he did have control in the relationship and when he say the look on her face, he must have known. She was white and pale and wan looking, all of a sudden, instead of the bronzed, exotic looking cheery girl she’d been not five minutes ago. He must have noticed a change, and if he didn’t there was clearly something lacking in his brain. But he did, thankfully, and she hardly felt the squeeze on her hand before she stumbled into the café, one hand guarding her stomach like the baby would just fall out if she put too much stress on herself. The bar was a couple of people away and she walked in front of all of them, not even paying attention to their disgruntled remarks as she simply motioned for the rolled pastry thing with cinnamon, and if they made it, she had no idea what she would do. But she distinctly remembered the taste of the other girl’s fingers in her mouth as she licked them clean of cinnamon and how it was the only thing she would eat and her head was spinning, and her husband was just there, just outside the door, probably watching her fall all over the place.

She came to her senses some as they handed her the delicacy and she simply stared down at it, before someone behind her firmly reminded her to pay and she remembered that she was supposed to do that before she walked off with it. Shoving a handful of dollar bills, way too much, from the recesses of her pocket, she made her way to the tables to the side and sat down in a sort of default manner, her well-heeled spine slumping like it always did and she couldn’t find it within herself to look around because she knew what she would see and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to see her.

[Louise Edna Van Alen]

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The large diamond felt heavy on her slender fingers as she simply looked down at her phone, shifting through emails and other important business matters. Honestly, they weren't important. All she ever really had to do was maybe visit a third world country or two, sign a few big checks, take pictures with some poverty stricken people, and then be back in her plush bed with her husband constantly reminding her to take it easy. It was why Theodore always had Angelo go everywhere with her so if anything happened to her, the buff Hispanic could protect her from all harm and take her straight to their private doctor who lived only five minutes from their mansion on Dartmouth Avenue off Commonwealth Avenue; the wealthiest part of Boston. It was exactly where a senator should live...a senator who came from a line of dukes and lords, ladies and duchesses, Dutch royalty.

Not like she cared about any of that. She couldn't help but be upset with him...after all he was the one who got her sick in the first place and got it in her head that having kids was the best thing that could happen to her-if she could even have them. At this point she somewhat wanted to give up.

Taking another sip, she toyed with the ring on her finger like she always did, crossing one smooth leg over the other and yawning a bit. She was ridiculously tired despite spending all of yesterday sleeping because that was what the cancer did. It made her exhausted, dizzy, sleepy...and just as she glanced up slightly through thick, mascara covered eyelashes, her eyes landed on a familiar figure but she simply looked back down at her phone, only to have them shoot back up again at the realization of who it was. It had been a while, what felt like an eternity, since she locked up all those memories and refused to revisit them at any given moment. What would be the point? She couldn't have her even if she wanted to. It wasn't like they could run from their families and responsibilities forever. Those were childish games...She couldn't be childish, at least not in public, anymore.

Before she could tell her body no, it was moving. It was almost as if her legs weren't connected to her brain because her brain was screaming at her to stop, to turn around and walk out of the cafe and continue with her life because that was what she had been doing all along. There was her life with her and her life without her. Chapter one and Chapter two. Chapter one was over and she was officially in Chapter two. There was no point in revisiting past parts of the book. It would only cause confusion instead of clarity. But her legs were moving, heels she once would never be caught dead wearing because she used to be so horrible walking in them, now she would practically glide in them, as if born on the cat walk. Then she was slipping into the seat across from her and simply looking her dead in the face with wavering eyes. She was even more beautiful than when she last saw her. She looked healthier, had a glow to her...and she had a feeling she knew where that glow was coming from. It was the same glow she had three times in a row. A glow she no longer had because it was her body's warning sign that the two month old baby growing inside her shouldn't be there, "Congratulations," she let a soft smile fall on her face, the type most socialites used only to be polite because that was basically what she was now: the one thing she never wanted and tried her entire life not to be. Rich. Stuck up. Her parents.

"On getting married," she continued, her surfer drawl all gone and replaced with clear, spoken words, "and also on the baby," she let the smile grow a bit wider, partially being genuine and part of it being completely fake because she didn't want to be congratulating her for being with someone else. Of course she knew who she was married to just like everyone and their mother knew Louise was married to Theodore Van Alen. But Louie knew the real reason she was saying congratulations was on finally being happy...because she did look really happy in her pictures on magazines. Louie knew for a fact that they practically had to photo shop her own smiles in. She was always dead serious in her pictures. What was the point of smiling?

Oh yeah. To be polite.

[gia brigitte carangi]

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She really had no clue why, exactly, she even bothered going in. She had a perfect husband, a perfect, growing family and a life anyone could lust after; but she would rather have the steamy summer evenings in New Zealand for just a weekend, she’d toss it all away for a dangerous whim, for living on the edge, and it had never been a good idea for the extremely cautious girl to fall on the genuinely spontaneous side of life. It just didn’t fare well for anyone who bohered to interact; the last time she’d ended up in China and hurting everyone around her without even thinking twice. Did she want to go back to running from things like a scared child, her tail between her legs? No. Of course not. She’d much rather face them head on with the help of Meta, should she need it, to keep her from impairing herself by a false move. But she did so enjoy the curve of light on the breast, the rise of their chest as they slept and the curious beauty mark directly next to Louie’s navel, the tattoo on her rear end and it’s laughable quote. Every time she saw her getting up in the morning, it had been her rock. The staples holding her together. Unfortunately, these trysts never did last for long and she found herself wondering why that was, but perhaps the intensity had burned out. Her stomach twisted slightly and she took a dainty bite of the cinnamon raisin, buttered bread concoction she’d first had in Geneva so long ago, the familiar taste swarming her senses. Chewing, she swallowed, her sunglasses still concealing her features as she rested her wrist on the table. It was wrought iron, an adorable little piece of work and she tried to focus on that instead of the whirlpool that was her brain at the moment. Unfortunately, it wasn’t having any such thing.

She knew she was there. She could feel her presence like it was a force field, hindering her from the world apart from what she wanted her to see. Louie was in her mind all the time, every second of every day, and she couldn’t stand it sometimes because she was sharing the space with someone who Gia genuinely had a future with. Possibilities stemmed from her and Meta’s relationship, but her first love bull shit would always reside right there with the particularly wan looking female. She was pale, sickly looking and bone thin. Too skinny. But regardless of how she truly felt, she smiled and lifted her sunglasses to her forehead, revealing a pair of eyes that looked nothing short of healthy and alert. She was no longer infamous for those deep circles; she’d eliminated those with the last round of facials she’d received, about a month ago or so. The dermatologist could do wonders. “It’s lovely to see you, Louie. You look great,” She wanted to ask her why she was so sleepless, why she hadn’t been eating or laughing like she used to, because the laugh lines around her lips - thinner then before - were less pronounced; she wanted to know why she wasn’t as happy as she was in her own little bubble with only the best of things while life turned round and round around her. She wanted to know why a goodwill ambassador wasn’t looking like she helped hundreds of people a year, but rather she’d come straight from the funeral of her best and favorite child. She didn’t know about the miscarriages, but she’d want to know about those too. Everything. Everything she’d missed while she was busy living life and Louie, obviously, was doing the same. But instead of saying anything on those topics, she simply kept the smile in place and acknowledged her congratulations with an elegant dip of her head. She didn’t let herself be confused over the change in phrasing, “Let me buy you a cup of coffee, please?”

She was torn between wishing she’d say yes and no, but the smile on her face never faltered, and she ate a piece of her biscuit through it.

[Louise Edna Van Alen]

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She had to remain calm and secure. She couldn't be emotional as she used to be. This wasn't highschool. This wasn't right out of highschool. This was real life. She was an adult and she had to act civilized. She had a reputation to uphold, her husband's reputation to think about, and a million other factors in that equation. So when Gia said she looked great, Louie had to hold back a snort of disbelief. Louie knew damn well what she looked like and it was far from 'great'. Magazines could praise her for being model-thin and for always wearing the top designer outfits in photographs that added a pound or two to her skeletal shape but in person, she knew she looked so far from 'great'. She should know...she had to look at herself every day in the mirror, wasting away and just waiting for the day she simply became nothing more than dust. Sometimes it was unnerving, as if looking into the mirror at someone else. She felt like that on her wedding day two and a half years ago...like she was looking in on someone else's life that wasn't her own.

For a brief second, she felt that out of body experience as Gia spoke and then she came back down to earth, reminding herself to say something polite even if the opposite wanted to come out, "Thank you," another forced grin crawled onto her face, "You look beautiful as always," but it wasn't there. It was the truth, but the sentiments that once used to cling to Gia's nickname, the love that seemed to ooze every time from its pores, seemed clogged and foggy, as if she put up a large parental block to keep herself from feeling anything for her other than something superficial. It wasn't right for her to love anyone. She was Louise Van Alen. Love was nowhere in the equation. She stated it matter of factly because it was obvious. Gia was Beautiful. She always had been and always would be.

"If you wish," she shrugged at the offer of the coffee. An olive branch maybe? It was only then that she noticed what Gia was eating. She hadn't had one of those in ages...not since Geneva at least. She couldn't bring herself to eat it without Gia being present after that. Not like she ate much as of late anyway. Watching one of the clerks come by after hearing Gia's statement, he glanced at Louie expectantly to take her order, "Large coffee, black. As strong as you can make it," she stated simply, the male nodding before turning to Gia if she wanted anything and slipping away to the back after taking their orders. It was then that her phone rang and she quickly answered it out of instinct, "Hello...No, I didn't go to the doctor's appointment," she let a heavy sigh escape her by mistake as she glanced out the window while listening to Teddy go on about how she should have gone, "I went for a walk. I went to the doctor's yesterday. I didn't think it was necessary to go today...I had coffee...I'm not hungry," she rolled her eyes and a faint smile fell on her face at his last words, "I know. I'll reschedule." and with that she hung up, turning her full attention back to Gia.

"My apologies. Teddy always gets worried when I'm not where I say I'm going to be," which was probably the weirdest thing that could ever come out of Louie's mouth. Since when did she ever tell anyone where she was going or what she was doing? She'd spent her whole life claiming she was a free bird and no one could tie her down, though at one point she thought Gia could. Apparently her family eventually chained her down with a husband, dead children, and cancer so she was no longer a free bird. Just a tamed one, "So how have you been?" she locked her eyes onto her's for only a few seconds before taking a sip from the coffee placed in front of her, "It has been a while."

More than a while. More like an eternity.