"Persist in Delusion."
Feb 10, 2018 20:11:05 GMT -5
Wayne Richards, Finn Whelan, and 1 more like this
Post by Maggie Chamberlain on Feb 10, 2018 20:11:05 GMT -5
PERSIST IN DELUSION //
– ℳ𝑪
_______________________
The vibes in Maggie Chamberlain's Manchester town home were tense and for no real good reason. Maggie is usually the one who feels as though she has to apologize first, even when she hasn't technically done anything wrong. Their Saturday afternoon thus far has consisted of preparing breakfast in silence, eating breakfast in silence, preparing lunch in silence, eating lunch in silence, and Maggie timidly encroaching in the living space while Carter attempts to watch a Netflix documentary entitled "Inside the Mind of a Serial Killer". They haven't spoken much to each other, but Carter naturally is the strong silent type until he's ready to talk about it, which usually means by that point he's only calmed down enough not to break a vase or two off of the marble countertops.
On one hand, Maggie was overcome with guilt. She wasn't sure whether Carter's silent treatment was in fact his own coping mechanism, or if it was just a tactic he used to make her feel guilty and wear down her mental resources until she eventually caves, cries, apologizes, and they carry on in perfect harmony until the next debacle. On the other hand, though, Maggie could feel herself going through spurts of anger; she wanted to stand up to him and let him know that she truthfully felt as though she did no wrong. But alas, she knew that would only anger him even moreso, which would inevitably lead to another argument – she usually tries to avoid those at all costs. Maggie can be incredibly passionate, yet so incredibly passive when it comes to Carter. She couldn't tell if she was putting their differences aside to save their relationship, or if she was submitting to him out of fear. She hated that she could never tell.
Don't let Carter's controlling and, well, somewhat unhealthy behaviour dictate how you feel about him, though – Carter Bexley was inherently a good man. He has had his own fair share of heartbreak, his fair share of failed relationships and his own fears and anxieties to conquer when you share a life with another person. They've been together for a little over five years now, and he was Maggie's first everything. There's a lot of stock put into this relationship; the two of them are so tightly intertwined with each other's families, they live together, everything they have was built together. That's usually Maggie's pinnacle answer when she's facing the age-old "Why don't you just leave?" question . . .
Not that anyone asks. It's just hard to explain to people why something works when it seems on the outside like it doesn't.
Not that she feels like she has to justify it.
Not that she feels there's anything to justify because everything is fine.
Right?
SATURDAY FEBRUARY 10 2018 | MANCHESTER, UK 5:45 P.M.
"You're on your own for dinner tonight," Carter yells out from the living room as he could hear Maggie shuffling around in the kitchen, trying to scramble up something to eat for the two of them.
"What do you mean?"
"I've made plans," He says, shutting the television off and walking towards the staircase, "Mate from my childhood is in town."
She sighs in disappointment, considering she had just thrown a couple of marinated and perfectly seasoned ribs in the oven and made enough for the both of them and then some.
"Which one?" She turns her head, a knife poised at the tip of a head of lettuce as she was in the midst of preparing a side salad.
"You know Colin," He yells from the stair case, his voice trailing further and further off as he ascended the steps, "Colin Lambert."
She raises an eyebrow suspiciously. In all of the years her and Carter had been together, she had never heard of a childhood friend named Colin Lambert. She heard footsteps upstairs towards the ensuite bathroom and the shower water running. She continued chopping up a couple carrots, an uneasy feeling beginning to build in her gut. She mostly felt that way because they hadn't had a chance to settle their issues or talk to each other since last night, and she hated being apart from him when there was trouble brewing between them. Nonetheless, she shrugs it off and throws the vegetables into the bowl, mixing the salad up and setting it off to the side. Before long, Maggie's obsessive-compulsive tendencies were urging her to wash the dishes that she'd already used to save herself the after dinner chores, and she couldn't help but sigh in frustration knowing that Carter ate his lunch in front of the television and without a doubt left his dishes there out of spite.
When she walked into the living room, though, she couldn't help but notice his cell phone sitting on the edge of the couch.
She gave into temptation. She tip-toed over to the stairs to see if she could still hear the water running. Maggie would never on any other occasion "snoop" through Carter's things, but the way things have been going for the last twenty-four hours or so had her feeling investigative. She walked back over to the couch and sat down, the anxiety and worry piling up in her gut was making her weak in the knees and queasy in the stomach. She felt a wave of relief, though, seeing the exchange of text messages from earlier today . . .
4:03 PM
You free tonight? Looking to get out of the house. Maybe dinner?
Read 4:06 PM
On one hand, Maggie was overcome with guilt. She wasn't sure whether Carter's silent treatment was in fact his own coping mechanism, or if it was just a tactic he used to make her feel guilty and wear down her mental resources until she eventually caves, cries, apologizes, and they carry on in perfect harmony until the next debacle. On the other hand, though, Maggie could feel herself going through spurts of anger; she wanted to stand up to him and let him know that she truthfully felt as though she did no wrong. But alas, she knew that would only anger him even moreso, which would inevitably lead to another argument – she usually tries to avoid those at all costs. Maggie can be incredibly passionate, yet so incredibly passive when it comes to Carter. She couldn't tell if she was putting their differences aside to save their relationship, or if she was submitting to him out of fear. She hated that she could never tell.
Don't let Carter's controlling and, well, somewhat unhealthy behaviour dictate how you feel about him, though – Carter Bexley was inherently a good man. He has had his own fair share of heartbreak, his fair share of failed relationships and his own fears and anxieties to conquer when you share a life with another person. They've been together for a little over five years now, and he was Maggie's first everything. There's a lot of stock put into this relationship; the two of them are so tightly intertwined with each other's families, they live together, everything they have was built together. That's usually Maggie's pinnacle answer when she's facing the age-old "Why don't you just leave?" question . . .
Not that anyone asks. It's just hard to explain to people why something works when it seems on the outside like it doesn't.
Not that she feels like she has to justify it.
Not that she feels there's anything to justify because everything is fine.
Right?
SATURDAY FEBRUARY 10 2018 | MANCHESTER, UK 5:45 P.M.
"You're on your own for dinner tonight," Carter yells out from the living room as he could hear Maggie shuffling around in the kitchen, trying to scramble up something to eat for the two of them.
"What do you mean?"
"I've made plans," He says, shutting the television off and walking towards the staircase, "Mate from my childhood is in town."
She sighs in disappointment, considering she had just thrown a couple of marinated and perfectly seasoned ribs in the oven and made enough for the both of them and then some.
"Which one?" She turns her head, a knife poised at the tip of a head of lettuce as she was in the midst of preparing a side salad.
"You know Colin," He yells from the stair case, his voice trailing further and further off as he ascended the steps, "Colin Lambert."
She raises an eyebrow suspiciously. In all of the years her and Carter had been together, she had never heard of a childhood friend named Colin Lambert. She heard footsteps upstairs towards the ensuite bathroom and the shower water running. She continued chopping up a couple carrots, an uneasy feeling beginning to build in her gut. She mostly felt that way because they hadn't had a chance to settle their issues or talk to each other since last night, and she hated being apart from him when there was trouble brewing between them. Nonetheless, she shrugs it off and throws the vegetables into the bowl, mixing the salad up and setting it off to the side. Before long, Maggie's obsessive-compulsive tendencies were urging her to wash the dishes that she'd already used to save herself the after dinner chores, and she couldn't help but sigh in frustration knowing that Carter ate his lunch in front of the television and without a doubt left his dishes there out of spite.
When she walked into the living room, though, she couldn't help but notice his cell phone sitting on the edge of the couch.
She gave into temptation. She tip-toed over to the stairs to see if she could still hear the water running. Maggie would never on any other occasion "snoop" through Carter's things, but the way things have been going for the last twenty-four hours or so had her feeling investigative. She walked back over to the couch and sat down, the anxiety and worry piling up in her gut was making her weak in the knees and queasy in the stomach. She felt a wave of relief, though, seeing the exchange of text messages from earlier today . . .
4:03 PM
You free tonight? Looking to get out of the house. Maybe dinner?
Read 4:06 PM
4:08 PM
I would love that. Where have you been?...
Read 4:10 PM
I would love that. Where have you been?...
Read 4:10 PM
4:14 PM
Around... Rosso's okay? About 7 pm?
Read 4:21 PM
Around... Rosso's okay? About 7 pm?
Read 4:21 PM
4:25 PM
Sounds lovely. What would you like me to wear?
Read 4:27 PM
Sounds lovely. What would you like me to wear?
Read 4:27 PM
4:30 PM
Whatever you want. I'm sure you'd look great in anything.
Read 4:33 PM
Whatever you want. I'm sure you'd look great in anything.
Read 4:33 PM
4:37 PM
Right back at you. Will you be picking me up or would you like me to meet you?
Read 4:42 PM
Right back at you. Will you be picking me up or would you like me to meet you?
Read 4:42 PM
4:47 PM
It would probably be safer if we met there.
Read 4:50 PM
It would probably be safer if we met there.
Read 4:50 PM
4:55 PM
Oh. I see. Not a problem.
Read 5:01 PM
Oh. I see. Not a problem.
Read 5:01 PM
5:03 PM
Sorry. I'll explain at dinner.
Read 5:07 PM
Sorry. I'll explain at dinner.
Read 5:07 PM
5:10 PM
Looking forward to it.
Read 5:13 PM
Well, all Maggie has decidedly mustered up from the messages that she read was that Carter was being truthful about meeting a childhood friend for dinner, and clearly the two hadn't seen each other in a very long time. That's probably why she's never heard about Colin before. She put the phone down back on the ledge of the couch where she found it, having been satisfied by what she found. She heard the oven "Ding!", signalling that the chicken was ready. She pulls it out of the oven and sets it on top to let it cool down a bit before she ate, albeit she didn't have much of an appetite in the first place. She would force herself to eat, though, knowing that the chicken would provide some much needed protein to aid her recovery from her match at last night's Lights Out! She could hear Carter coming down the steps and into the kitchen.
"That's a lot of chicken to feed just yourself, ain't it?" He asks, nodding over to the oven.
"Well it was for the both of us, but by the time you told me about your dinner plans I had already started cooking."
"Oh, well fuck me I guess, right?" He snaps, his tone was unapologetic.
"I–" Maggie throws her arms down to her side in defeat, "I just mean that, like, I just assumed I was going to make dinner for us and didn't think you were going out."
"Right then," Carter grabs his keys off of the island and waves his finger back and forth between the chicken and the salad, "I guess with all this left over you can invite that frosted tip fuckwit for dinner."
"Jesus, Carter . . . "
By the time she turned to face him he had already started walking towards the front hallway. She followed him like a lost puppy and stopped when he sat down to put a pair of dress shoes on.
"I didn't mean anything by it, I was just showing him some support. We're on the same roster, we're on the same show, we share a locker room, we have to be civil to one another – all of us do," She exclaims tirelessly in defence. "Like, I haven't really had the chance to prove myself there and even you said last week that 'only losers get the non-televised matches', so I just thought that you would be proud of me for networking and making friends and trying to put myself out there a little more."
"Right, so how would you explain him going back a week into your twitter feed and liking your picture? Of you half fucking naked no doubt," Carter smirks, almost implying that he knows something she doesn't.
"Who cares? He was probably just trying to be nice. Maybe he was just showing me the same support I was showing hi–"
"Kincaid?" He cuts her off with a sly grin, "The same support you were showing Alex Kincaid on Twitter?"
"Carter, he's married–"
"That's fuckin' bollocks and you know it," He stands up, towering a good foot over her. "You seem to be showing a lot of guys some 'support', and they seem pretty eager to 'support' you, too. Who else are you supporting in that locker room?"
She stood there, shocked. A part of her was in complete disbelief that her boyfriend of five years would accuse or even imply that she did anything behind his back. She didn't respond. She could feel her eyes welling up and her skin turning hot and pink. A few long, agonizing seconds of silence fell between them before Carter nodded and slung his suit jacket over his shoulder.
"Right, then. Don't wait up, yeah?"
And just like that, Carter slammed the front door of the house. All she could do was stand there, mouth still slightly ajar as she heard the engine start and watched the car rev off down the road.
SATURDAY FEBRUARY 10 2018 | ROSSO'S BAR AND GRILL 7:12 P.M.
Carter walked in and immediately stepped off to the side of the hostess' table, looking from side to side scouting for his dinner date. He leaned against the wall, checking his phone to see if he had any missed messages. Within seconds, he hears his childhood friend call to him from the opposite side of the bar . . .
"Over here, handsome."
Carter looks up to find one stunning Breona Van De Caarde. He grins, watching her muted rose heels clicking over to him one in front of the other. She was ever so slightly taller than Maggie, making it easier for her to lean up and plant a peck on Carter's cheek.
"Fuck me, look at ya'," Carter steps back, scanning her up and down, barely noticing the hostess urging them to their table.
"Well, it's not like you make time for me that often," She blushes up at him, turning seductively as she follows the hostess. She looks back to find his eyes trailing up and down her backside.
They get seated. Carter orders a domestic beer for himself and orders an Old Fashioned for Breona.
"You remembered my drink?"
"Jesus darlin' there's not a thing I can forget about you if I tried," His voice was low and raspy and he stares her directly in her bright blue eyes.
"Let me make it through my drink first?" She winks.
"Last time that proved to be an issue for you, if I recall . . . "
"Oh?" She leans back, giving Carter a full view of her perky chest. "What else can you recall?"
She bites down on her lip, watching him intently. Carter chuckles to himself, a boyish smile from ear to ear.
"I can recall what your screams sound like when you're face down in a pillow."
She adjusts uncomfortably in her seat, her face flushing red. The waitress comes by and sets Carter's beer and Breona's Old Fashioned down, but the two of them are staring at each other with such intensity that they barely notice. Carter motions to her drink.
"Down that and let's get out of here, yeah?"
Looking forward to it.
Read 5:13 PM
Well, all Maggie has decidedly mustered up from the messages that she read was that Carter was being truthful about meeting a childhood friend for dinner, and clearly the two hadn't seen each other in a very long time. That's probably why she's never heard about Colin before. She put the phone down back on the ledge of the couch where she found it, having been satisfied by what she found. She heard the oven "Ding!", signalling that the chicken was ready. She pulls it out of the oven and sets it on top to let it cool down a bit before she ate, albeit she didn't have much of an appetite in the first place. She would force herself to eat, though, knowing that the chicken would provide some much needed protein to aid her recovery from her match at last night's Lights Out! She could hear Carter coming down the steps and into the kitchen.
"That's a lot of chicken to feed just yourself, ain't it?" He asks, nodding over to the oven.
"Well it was for the both of us, but by the time you told me about your dinner plans I had already started cooking."
"Oh, well fuck me I guess, right?" He snaps, his tone was unapologetic.
"I–" Maggie throws her arms down to her side in defeat, "I just mean that, like, I just assumed I was going to make dinner for us and didn't think you were going out."
"Right then," Carter grabs his keys off of the island and waves his finger back and forth between the chicken and the salad, "I guess with all this left over you can invite that frosted tip fuckwit for dinner."
"Jesus, Carter . . . "
By the time she turned to face him he had already started walking towards the front hallway. She followed him like a lost puppy and stopped when he sat down to put a pair of dress shoes on.
"I didn't mean anything by it, I was just showing him some support. We're on the same roster, we're on the same show, we share a locker room, we have to be civil to one another – all of us do," She exclaims tirelessly in defence. "Like, I haven't really had the chance to prove myself there and even you said last week that 'only losers get the non-televised matches', so I just thought that you would be proud of me for networking and making friends and trying to put myself out there a little more."
"Right, so how would you explain him going back a week into your twitter feed and liking your picture? Of you half fucking naked no doubt," Carter smirks, almost implying that he knows something she doesn't.
"Who cares? He was probably just trying to be nice. Maybe he was just showing me the same support I was showing hi–"
"Kincaid?" He cuts her off with a sly grin, "The same support you were showing Alex Kincaid on Twitter?"
"Carter, he's married–"
"That's fuckin' bollocks and you know it," He stands up, towering a good foot over her. "You seem to be showing a lot of guys some 'support', and they seem pretty eager to 'support' you, too. Who else are you supporting in that locker room?"
She stood there, shocked. A part of her was in complete disbelief that her boyfriend of five years would accuse or even imply that she did anything behind his back. She didn't respond. She could feel her eyes welling up and her skin turning hot and pink. A few long, agonizing seconds of silence fell between them before Carter nodded and slung his suit jacket over his shoulder.
"Right, then. Don't wait up, yeah?"
And just like that, Carter slammed the front door of the house. All she could do was stand there, mouth still slightly ajar as she heard the engine start and watched the car rev off down the road.
SATURDAY FEBRUARY 10 2018 | ROSSO'S BAR AND GRILL 7:12 P.M.
Carter walked in and immediately stepped off to the side of the hostess' table, looking from side to side scouting for his dinner date. He leaned against the wall, checking his phone to see if he had any missed messages. Within seconds, he hears his childhood friend call to him from the opposite side of the bar . . .
"Over here, handsome."
Carter looks up to find one stunning Breona Van De Caarde. He grins, watching her muted rose heels clicking over to him one in front of the other. She was ever so slightly taller than Maggie, making it easier for her to lean up and plant a peck on Carter's cheek.
"Fuck me, look at ya'," Carter steps back, scanning her up and down, barely noticing the hostess urging them to their table.
"Well, it's not like you make time for me that often," She blushes up at him, turning seductively as she follows the hostess. She looks back to find his eyes trailing up and down her backside.
They get seated. Carter orders a domestic beer for himself and orders an Old Fashioned for Breona.
"You remembered my drink?"
"Jesus darlin' there's not a thing I can forget about you if I tried," His voice was low and raspy and he stares her directly in her bright blue eyes.
"Let me make it through my drink first?" She winks.
"Last time that proved to be an issue for you, if I recall . . . "
"Oh?" She leans back, giving Carter a full view of her perky chest. "What else can you recall?"
She bites down on her lip, watching him intently. Carter chuckles to himself, a boyish smile from ear to ear.
"I can recall what your screams sound like when you're face down in a pillow."
She adjusts uncomfortably in her seat, her face flushing red. The waitress comes by and sets Carter's beer and Breona's Old Fashioned down, but the two of them are staring at each other with such intensity that they barely notice. Carter motions to her drink.
"Down that and let's get out of here, yeah?"
