A story inspired by my own castle ❤
A Night Out
The night sky seemed clear but it was pissing rain. The street lights reflected on the ground as the ‘don’t’ walk blinked red on the zebra crossing. The girls sprinted across the street, covering themselves with their jackets so their hair that took ages to get right and the tan that took effort to put on wouldn’t be ruined.
Eleanor and Neve just laughed as they made it to the other side, barely.
It was a Saturday night and Washington street was brighter than ever. It could have been mistaken for New York, if you didn’t know any better, for the girls were just in Cork, Ireland. To Eleanor it was her city of lights. Eleanor was young, about 22 years old, she was raised in England but recently moved to Ireland. She left her family, that was splitting into two, for Dublin, but she hated it there. She was a forgotten girl in such a big city, which just wasn’t Eleanor. So, she headed to Cork, where she met Neve.
The girls headed over to Reardens, no better place to be on a night out. You could hear the music playing and the people from the street. To Eleanor Reardens was her castle and she was the queen. It was the place she and Neve met; they had a mutual friend and hit they it off right away, which was new to Eleanor; she wasn’t use to having a lot of girl friends or friends for that matter. Eleanor was pretty, but she quickly learned the cost of beauty. She started modeling at the age of 12. With the uniqueness of her bright blue eyes and deep red hair she got a lot of attention. But, she had never wanted that attention.
“ID’s” the bouncer said.
Neve dug for her’s while Eleanor swiftly handed her ID to him. The man looked at the ID then at her, eyeing her up and down; not in a creepy way but in a confused way. A girl like Eleanor should be sweet talking her way in, she didn’t need an ID.
“There you go,” he said nodding them in.
Eleanor reached out for Neve’s hand as she was known to get a little lost sometime. Eleanor walked past everyone like she was squishing a bug, eyes glared at her, looking her up and down. Eleanor took no notice; she was used to eyes looking at her that way. It was her job that made her this way.
“What you want to drink?” Neve asked, yelling over the music.
“I’ll get it,” Eleanor said, pushing her way to the bar for the people had their drinks and needed to move, “Four Vodkas.”
“Four?!” Neve questioned, “who else is drinking?”
“We are going to double fist them so we don’t have to come up here again!”
“Good idea.” Neve said, pulling out her phone.
Neve was real, she was down for anything. She wasn’t afraid to do things, she had no worries. Her fucks were at the door.
Eleanor got the drinks, handed two to Neve, and her eyes wandered around the bar. That’s where she saw him passing her. Black jacket, brown hair boy with a look about him that showed he was trying to be tough; yet, he wasn’t tough at all. “Him,” Eleanor said to Neve.
“Him?” she question.
He walked right by taking no notice of them, which was fine with Eleanor; she liked a challenge.
“Yes him, let’s have some fun.” Eleanor said. Eleanor had confidence; it’s something she always had, even before modeling.
Eleanor grew up with her father always taking pictures of her and her siblings, he was a photographer, one of the best in the business. He did everything from print, to high fashion, to travel. He met the queen once to give her a picture he took while on a shoot on a Safari in South Africa. And after doing so many low key shoots at age 15 she got her first real break in Cosmo. She walked in and they destroyed her; telling her she wasn’t thin enough, her hair was all wrong, her face was uneven, and the criticized the way she stood. And what did she do, she looked right at them and said; “There is nothing I can’t do.” and walked away. That walk got her that job. After that no one seemed to find anything wrong.
Eleanor was a wanted girl by everyone that by 20 years old she was lost in a world she never wanted to be in. Her mother was the big push behind everything she did. And soon that was what broke her family. However, before it broke Eleanor loved modeling. She loved the clothes, the places she got to go, the people she met and worked with, she loved the opportunity she got. But it wasn’t all glamorous. She, unfortunately, got caught up in it, just like her mother had.
No one knew she left London. Her mom thought she was working somewhere in Germany or the Netherlands. Her father wasn’t even in London; he left to his family village with her siblings after she told him about her mother. He was upset with Eleanor for telling him.
The girls walked over to a free spot near a mirror; they stood there for a while talking until they heard the song and the girls looked wide eyed at each other and with no words they headed straight to the dance floor, placing their now empty drinks on the table, as they moved their way through.
Eleanor turned her head, the rebel without a cause boy was right behind her. He was with a group of lads; he wasn’t out for the shift or a score, which intriqued Eleanor. Eleanor turned around grabbing Neve from behind, pulled herself through the lads saying, “Sorry boys,” looking at the boy. He had dark mixed coloured eyes. He moved to the side, staring at her. She smirked back, moving Neve and her right next to the lads to dance and waited; it was his turn.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Eleanor,” she said smiling, putting out her hand to shake his, still dancing with Neve who was not paying any attention, she had a boyfriend.
“I’m Ronon,” he said.
“Hi,” she smiled. The boy looked down and then right at her, he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t seem awkward at all, he seemed confident, sure of himself, but there he was not looking Eleanor in the eye. “Are you out for the night Ronon?” Eleanor asked.
“Yeah, nothing special just the lads out.” He took her hand and pulled her away from the dance floor to sit on the back seats of the dance floor. When Eleanor saw something she liked she went for it. And the boy couldn’t say no. She looked back to see if Neve was alright she put her thumb up. She was dancin’ away with those lads now.
People would always tell Eleanor how lucky she was; they’d tell her she was so pretty over and over again. It felt like a blessing at the same time a curse. While growing up her family was pretty close. She and her siblings never wanted to leave the house without each other. They went on family road trips to the countryside after they moved to London. Weekend trips away as a family were the best part. Laughing and smiling, her parents looking at each other like lovers do in movies. Having her family, her parents, that love made all the hardships of her life worth it. However, things began to break. First it was her relationship with her siblings, because she hardly ever saw them. She didn’t go to school with them, she had no clue what was going on in their lives–she couldn’t bother either if they asked. For Eleanor had her pictures on billboards across the world. Then the weekend get aways stopped, her father even talked about selling the house in the countryside. And then her parent’s relationship began to ruffle. Her father would kiss her mother on the cheek while she didn’t even look at him. And Eleanor didn’t even notice because, like her mother, she was lost in her own world to see what really was happening.
Ronon sat down on the coaches on the side of the dance floor, holding Eleanor’s fingers.
“I don’t dance,” he said pulling Eleanor in between his legs.
“That’s a shame,” she said, smirking at him. He, of course, didn’t look like a guy that did dance; he had two left feet Eleanor guessed. That was fine with Eleanor because she would rather dance on her own. And she did. She just danced with Neve and his friends as he watched.
One night, four years into her modeling career, she was out at a dinner party, celebrating her probably biggest break ever, walking in both London and Paris fashion shows. Eleanor was sitting at a table next to a boy, they’ve been flirting a lot, sending text messages back and forth. It all was harmless fun, but they never got to actually be in the same room with each other until now. His hand was on her bare leg moving up and down getting closer and closer under her dress each time.
He leaned in whispering some sweet words into her ears, kissing her neck. Eleanor laughed looking over to her mom. Her mother was getting felt up by her manager across the table. Her ring still on her finger, right in front of everyone Eleanor called friends, people she worked with. She thought about her father, and the look her parents once had for each other. She thought about when she was younger and how happy she had been. She thought about the words people used to describe her. Then her thoughts went to the guy, who wasn’t even her boyfriend, as he slipped his hand up her dress. Eleanor pulled away from the guy; he looked confused, as she got up.
“Where you going, babe?” he asked. She looked down at the boy with his perfect jawline and silver blue eyes and knew, she was nothing to him. He desired her; he did not want her.
She said, “Don’t call me babe.” And the next morning she was on a flight to Dublin.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Eleanor said to Neve grabbing her hand, pushing herself through people to the bathroom.
“This guy is 50 shades Greg,” Eleanor said closing the stole door behind her
“Greg? You mean Grey?” Neve said.
“Yeah that, did you see him?”
“Yeah, and when you pulled me away he turned to the girl next to him.” Eleanor rolled her eyes, “He’s drunk Ele, and so are you. Are you expecting to find your prince charming here?”
“Nooo,” she said thinking back to her model, not boy friend. “But he is cute and I don’t know, there’s something.”
“That he’s cute!”
“Yes and I kind of just want him, like not only for the night. And if that’s what he wants well, he can have it with someone else.”
They both laughed.
Eleanor walked out of the bathroom and sure enough Ronon was talking to the girl next to him. But, as she walked over to the group of lads Neve was talking to she felt someone hit her legs. She turned her head slightly; it was Ronon trying to get her attention. “Yes?” she asked him.
“Where were you?” he asked.
“Sit,” he said, drunk. He couldn’t keep his squinting drunk eyes off her.
“What you want Ronon, you’re friend is getting jealous.”
“The girl,” she said leaning over the girl, “is he your friend?” she asked.
The girl didn’t say anything. Eleanor felt like a bitch, but the drunk mind was taking her own.
“She’s not my friend.” he said.
“You can’t just pull me in after talking to her like that’s not nice.”
“I want you,” he said.
“Oh really?” How?” she asked.
“You’re interesting girl Eleanor,” he said.
“You haven’t even heard my story.”
He didn’t say anything he just pulled at her and kissed her. She kissed him back, even though his hand slide up and down her leg, even though they were drunk and he was just talking to another girl. Eleanor didn’t care he wanted her for not because she was some thing on a billboard, or labeled as this beautiful thing. He wanted her for he was interested in her.
All night they were chatting and shifting in the corner. It wasn’t love; it was far from it, but it was the first time in a long time Eleanor was finally happy and she finally felt like she was wanted for herself.
“This is nice, you should hold onto this,” referring to her necklace. It was a little leaf feather gold chain she had gotten at TopShop one day.
“WHAT?” she said, not understanding what he was on about.
“I…I like this, it’s cool.”
“Yeah, I like feathers,” she said.
“You should hold on to this it could be–”
“You’re not good at this are you?” she interrupted him.
He rolled his head back knowing that she called him out on it, but instead of answering he kissed her and it was a good kiss at that. She wanted to keep kissing him and he wanted to keep kissing her.
“You’re interesting, Eleanor,” he said pulling away.
“Am I so?” she asked right back, looking into his ocean blue eyes.
There was a smile on Eleanor’s face. It was getting later in the night and Eleanor wasn’t going to let herself fall, not this way. She pulled Ronan away and looked down at her phone it was ten minutes to midnight. “Do you have somewhere to be?”
“Yeah,” she said looking at him.
“Okay fine,” he said, looking somewhere else as he digged in his pocket, “before you run off, give me your number okay?”
She typed in the numbers and handed it back, kissing him one last time before letting herself go. Because at the end of the night she was going to be the girl that was going to leave, and if they wanted her they would have to come find her.
“See you girls,” the bouncer said as they left.
“Bye captain,” Eleanor said.
“Next time lads,” Neve said.
Eleanor walked besides Neve down Washington street, drunk, laughing about the night. She looked down at her phone; there were five missed calls from her mother, one even from her father. There was a text, too. Her dad apologizing hoping she was alright. And one from her mother asking where she was and why she wasn’t at the shoot two weeks ago.
Eleanor sent a mass message back, “I left London. I’m not coming back. I’m finally me.” She had finally found who she really was. She discovered what was real through Neve. And, here on Washington Street was her place, this was her night, this is where she belonged.
Thank you for reading x
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