Score: End Credits - Chase and Status

Lydia

I walk into the examination room as if in a dream. My feet are dragging me across the carpeted floor on a will of their own. My vision is blurred and my eyelids feel heavy.

The room is quickly filling up with students. I look around, scanning for familiar faces. I can see Gloria, Alex, and Nate, already in their seats, looking all nervous and shaken up. Alex waves an enthusiastic hand at me, but I can only give her a weary smile in response.

Today is our Chemistry A-Level. The day I've been dreading the whole year.

But I don't feel anything, as I approach my desk. I don't feel nervous, excited, or even interested in what's happening around me. I just can't be bothered.

My life has been taken away from me. I realize now, that, through all these years I thought I've been working towards my independence and freedom, it has been completely in vain. Nothing in my life is within my powers.

It has never been.

God knows for how long Colin has been planning on trading me off to the Casterlys for their money and power. God knows what he's done with the compensation payment from Bellanger Skin&Beauty and where his royalties have gone.

It doesn't matter, really. There's nothing I can do about it.

I plop myself on my chair and let my bag slide off my shoulder and fall to the floor. My body is in full automatic mode, as my hands reach into my bag. Retrieve my pencil case. Fumble around for my water bottle. Fish my calculator out.

My mind is in a completely different place, far away from the examination room. It is back in my room, revisiting the events of the past weekend over and over again.

Like a broken record.

It has been like that for four days.

It would be my fault if mother isn't able to stay in the clinic...

My tuition fees don't matter that much. If I had known earlier, I could have probably applied for a student loan, but I'm quite sure I've missed all the deadlines already, so that's that. And there's also John's school fees, and...

I watch myself from afar, as I pick up my phone from my bed, and, with a shaking hand, pull Patrick's name on the screen. I try to collect myself enough so that I don't sound whiny and pathetic, as I wait for him to pick up.

I am surprised he even does, after what happened earlier, but, eventually, he picks up.

"What?" He whips out, angry and annoyed. I don't blame him. It's not his fault. Nothing in this situation is his fault. If anything, I was a total bitch to him earlier, and he didn't deserve that. He's in the same fucked up boat, as I am.

"Hey, babe. I just wanted to... apologize for what I said earlier. I freaked out. I just...I didn't expect that. It was too big of a surprise. And I am sorry. Of course, I am happy about it."

"Really? Because you sounded quite adamant about what you were saying."

"I know. But, yes, really, I mean it. I'm sorry. Do you want to come over and we can talk about it?"

"No." He snaps, way too harshly, and then adds, in a softer tone. "I'm tired. I've spent the whole day traveling. I just want to go to bed. We can talk again tomorrow. Consider your apology accepted, though."

"Really?" I say, my heart twisting in my chest. Instead of relief, I feel only more desperation. "Thank you, babe! I really can't wait to talk to you again and show you how happy I am."

"Fine. I'll come by tomorrow. My exam's on Tuesday, though, so it will be quick."

"Thank you! Yeah, my Chem's on Wednesday, so I need to be revising, too."

"Good. Well, if that's all, good night."

"Good night, babe." I swallow, hard. "I...I love you."

"Love you, too." He says, and his tone has become a lot warmer and softer.

I hang up and curl up on my bed with my clothes on. My body shakes with quiet sobs. The room goes all blurry before my eyes. Heavy tears mixed with complete and utter exhaustion are pushing me further down into the comforter. I feel heavy, so heavy that I can't even lift my hand off the bed to check why the screen of my phone has lit up again.

When I wake up the next morning, I realize I cried myself to sleep the previous night, for the first time in two years.

I check my phone and I see a message from Mark, and it wrenches my heart.

We have a deal! We agreed to stay away from each other! Why is he making it more difficult, when my life is enough of a mess?

My heart shakes, as I delete the message, without even reading it.

Spare yourself the heartache, Lydia, you fucking masochist!

I walk to my mother's old room and stop in front of her chest of drawers. I take a deep breath, before pulling the top drawer open.

I haven't done this in two years.

I fumble in the half-empty medication bottles until I find what I am looking for. A nearly expired bottle of her anxiety relief medication. The one she had taken, when she tried to end her life.

I unscrew the lid open and take one pill into my hand. It is perfectly oval, pinkish, and has a dividing dent in the middle.

I stare at it in my palm for a minute. Something so small, yet so powerful. It is fascinating. It can end all of my misery. Then I put it in my mouth and swallow it.

The invigilator says something, but I can't make her words out. My ears are ringing. I notice that the room is nearly full now. A person is standing at the front, explaining something about the paper, while another invigilator walks around the room, handing the exam booklets out.

I flinch as the paper lands on my desk with a loud slap. It all feels like a dream...

The conversation with Patrick puts us in a very... fragile place. When he does come by on Sunday, he looks so hurt...so cold. Like he doesn't want to be there, like he isn't sure why he is even giving me a chance.

I don't say as much as I had planned and rehearsed in my head. The words feel stuck in my throat. Like someone shoved them down there and forcefully closed my mouth, so that I swallow them, but I can't.

We talk about what had happened the previous day and decided to put it behind us. Patrick says he still cares about me and wants to try and work things out. We agree not to rush things, and not push the engagement any further for now. We agree to take every day as it comes. Patrick suggests we go away, after our exams, only the two of us, so that we can spend some time together. Work on our relationship. I agree.

Though I feel like it isn't my decision.

I don't tell him about Mark. Somehow, our moments with Mark seem a long, long time ago now, even though it has been only five days since the greenhouse.

I can still feel his touch burning my skin, I can still taste his mouth and see his eyes, burning like embers, every time I close mine. I can hear our soft joint moans and stolen kisses in the dark. But it all feels like it happened to someone else. Like I was just watching it from aside, like a creep. Like it was part of a different life.

And I know it can never happen again.

I must not think about him. I must not let him slip into my mind again.

It's for the better. We could have never worked out, anyway. At least now I know that.

The invigilator announces the start of the exam. I open my exam booklet and stare at the first problem.

15.0cm3 of C6H12 is shaken with 20.0cm3 of an aqueous solution containing I2 until no further change is seen.
It is found that 0.390 g of I2 is extracted into the C6H12.
The partition coefficient of I2 between C6H12 and water, Kpc, is 93.8.
Calculate the mass of I2 that remains in the aqueous layer. Show your working.

mass of I2 in aqueous layer = .............................. g.

Nothing. Flashes of panic slice through the thick haze in my mind at the realization that I can't do this. I can't work out the answer. It is like I have never seen a chemistry problem before, even though I have spent the past year preparing for this exam.

So much has happened in the span of five days, that I can't even remember the past year. I know this is a very important exam, but I don't know why anymore.

Whether I fulfill the conditions and go to Edinburgh or not doesn't matter anymore. I'll have to become Patrick's wife one day. It won't matter if I become a psychologist, or want to leave England. I'll just be Patrick's wife, the same way Theodora has always been Simon's. Lady Casterly. Such an honour.

I will never be free. I will never be able to live the life I've imagined for myself. All I know is that I must be a responsible adult and do what's right. But why does it feel so wrong?

I know it is wrong for Patrick and me to be engaged. I wonder if he thinks the same. If he's being pushed by his parents to propose, as well.

"I told Patrick that he should just get it over with." Simon had said at the leaving school dinner at Colin's. I know that Patrick wants this and that he's eager for us to be engaged, but I can't rule out the possibility that he's also being pushed into this.

Why, though? Of what use would it be for the future Lord Casterly to marry into the family of a drunken, broke, ex-cosmetics superstar? What can they possibly want from me? Why don't they steer Patrick towards some issue-free countess, or someone else of their sorts?

I stare at my paper. Then I look at the giant clock on the opposite wall. An hour has passed and I haven't answered a single question.

I gather all of my willpower and try as hard as I can to focus. I flick through the pages of my exam booklet, staring at the questions that I have become very much acquainted with over the past year. All in vain.

My mind watches from the corner of the room, as I gather my stuff, lift off my seat and walk to the invigilator at the front. She lifts a brow at me and says something, but I cannot hear her.

Without a word, I hand my paper over and make my way toward the entrance. The lump stuck in my throat is blocking the flow of oxygen to my body and brain. I see red spots floating before my eyes, as I leave the examination room. Once in the hallway, I lean on the wall and let myself slump onto the floor. Tears start chasing down my face as I slowly realize what has just happened.

I failed. I failed my Chem A-level. This means I must wave my dream of going to Edinburgh a premature goodbye. Even if I get As on my other two exams, which is not a given, I'd need at least a passing mark to get into any university.

My Psychology A-Level is next week and I don't even know if I should go anymore at all. I will not get in, no matter the outcome of that one.

I sit there, for I don't know how long before the door next to me opens and Alex walks out of the examination room. She looks at me, all slumped up on the floor, and drops her bag to the ground, before kneeling next to me and taking my face in her hands. She wipes the tears away from my face.

"What's wrong, babe?" She coos. I sob, wrapping my arms around her neck.

'Shh, it's okay. Let's get out of here, OK?'

I nod and Alex lifts me off the floor.

"I want to go somewhere we can be alone," I say, wiping away the snot from my face with my sleeve.

"OK, wanna come to my house? I can make you cookies and you can stay over. We can have a home spa, or order some food and watch a movie, or do whatever you want, OK?"

I nod and Alex takes my hand, leading me down the dimly lit corridor.

I take a deep breath, thanking whatever force it is that sent Alex, and Gloria, and Nate, and...and Mark, and even Patrick in my life. No matter what fucked up shit my actual family pulls, my friends are the ones I can always count on, always lean on. They are my safe place. They are the people, who raised me to be the person I am.

They are the closest to family I've ever had.

And for that, I will be forever grateful.