MESSY
008, THE DRESS

CIVILITY LINGERS IN THE AIR. maybe it's Callum just trying to make this day easier for us to get through or maybe we're finally on the road from recovery. Although I still lack the knowledge of what exactly we're meant to be recovering from.

We stay in the water in a state of reminiscence, talking about stories of the past, and laughing whenever the New Year's party of 2018 is brought up. We stay until our skin begins to prune and the parts of our body that sit above the surface level begin to tint red. We talk like friends do and I don't hesitate to take the hand he offers to help me out or when he wraps my towel over my shoulders. It feels normal, not what our normal used to be but it's close enough.

The town is beautiful, and I fully enjoy it at the slow pace me and Callum walk after leaving the beach. It's not awkward when I make him take photos by little photo ops that I would have posted to my Instagram story in a heartbeat but now don't feel I can. Without drawing more attention to our wounds and without pissing off the boyfriend that I haven't spoken to in a few days.

" come on!" I say, moving to centre the man in my camera who I can tell is staring me down behind his sunglasses glasses "One more picture!"

He scoffs " Olly, you said that about thirty pictures ago!" he laughs that beautiful laugh of his. His lips spread so far apart I can see his toothy smile. The sweeping feeling of butterflies hits my stomach and it's a feeling that exits as swiftly as it arrived.

And I smile back, simultaneously lifting the phone to my eye line and snapping one more ( well ten) and then putting my phone away in my bag.

My now phone free hands lift in the air as some kind of mocking surrender as I shake my head

"I'm done now, pinky promise." I tell him and he makes this sound that shows me that he isn't fully convinced. Moving closer to me as we stand in the middle of the street — having to lift up my head to look at him, eyes squinting due to the velocity of the sun.

He exhales, a soft smile still curved into his lips "what do you want to do next?" he says and my eyebrows furrow and lips curve into a soft smile.

Head can't help but tilt slightly "are you telling me you're not bored of my company yet?" I ask and he exhales.

" what do you mean?" he asks, and I feel my shoulders lift into a shrug.

" we've definitely met the low expectations our managers held out for us, we could just go back to the house — you could go back to ignoring me and I'll go back to wondering what I've done." I tell him and watch the smile fall off of his face.

" olly-" he says and I exhale, turning my head. Looking at anywhere but him and this proximity that separates us. Both physically and mentally.

my heart hurts. But I can't pretend that it doesn't hurt, that he hasn't hurt me. But then again I'll prolong that feeling reaching the surface for as long as a humanly possible.

My eyes scan around the area, noticing one thing in particular that takes grasp of my attention.

" oh my god." I say, taking Callum's hand in mine and beginning to pull him to follow me. An action I do subconsciously but think I'd make this more difficult if I immediately dropped the hand after I realised what I'd done.

It's a small clothing shop, a piece of driftwood with the sign painted on in a light blue. But my eyes are immediately drawn to one thing, a dress stuck in amongst the others yet it's the only one I believe is worth noticing.

my fingers toy to find the correct hanger as I pull it off, my love for this single piece of material is growing stronger every second I let my eyes hold contact with it.

It's white, it's handmade you can tell by the intricate detail of the stitching when compared against the price tag that's held by a single piece of brown rope . Its tearing and the edges of the paper tag are curled inwards — leading me to wonder exactly how long this has been sat here and possibly even waiting for me to find it.

" it's a dress." Callum hums, following my lead slowly as I continue to stare at it.

" it's the dress." I tell him, taking the hanger off the line and lifting the material to drape over my clothes. Turning to Callum as he just looks at me wondering what has possessed me in the last minute or so.

" you look exquisite mi amore." one of the locals speaks to me, accent thick as she mingles her native language with mine. I hang the white dress over my body in the mirror,

" like an angelo." her phrasing makes me chuckle as I look at her with my little puppy eyes that twinkle in the sunlight.

" can I try it on?" I attempt to ask in some broken form of the Italian language , and she nods and begins to lead me to the changing room. I look at Callum and give him a big excited smile, like a child who's just discovered the tuck shop at age 10 ( possibly the last time I was this excited).

It's a small room, the divider between me and the others is chipping white saloon style doors. And I waste no time putting it on Smiling ear to ear as I run my hands over the material looking into this small mirror — the silk like white material that oddly is lightweight and breezy with a lace overtop that has embroidered shells and little ripples that represent waves.

I exit the room and then the shop which is a span of a metre and a half. Twirling as the old woman claps for me and I notice in the inverted gaze Callum look up from his phone still leant against that beam.

" whatcha think?" I ask her as she gives me a little thumbs up with a bright smile and I turn my attention to Callum who is still looking at me, his eyes wavering between me and the actual dress.

My head tilts slightly and eyes squint due to sunlight that shines in its whole magnificence behind him " Cal? thoughts?"

He shrugs " looks a bit loose at the top." he hums and I feel oddly deflated by his lack of enthusiasm unlike the complete stranger that stands beside me.

" oh yeah...it's cause I couldn't reach the top couple buttons." I explain like I care what he thinks ( I don't) .

Watching as he gets up and walks over, placing his phone in his shirt pocket and moving so he's stood behind me...what is he doing?

I feel my posture straighten as the skin of his fingers brush my back as he fumbles with the buttons the other hand having my shirt bunched up as he holds it out the way. I chew on my lip waiting for him to finish, I can feel his breath hit my skin and make the hairs to stand up.

I need to escape whatever this little thing between us is making my stomach do the loopdy loop right now. He's touched me before, held my hand, I've spent many a night cuddled into him when we've been on set together. But this. It's different. And I don't know why.

Finally " there." he says, pulling back and dropping my hair back on to the side of my face as I smile and turn my head. He's still close, and me looking at him only stops his way of moving backwards.

" better?" I ask and I see a hint of a smile.
He nods scanning his eyes up and down my body that makes me concious of my posture a I straighten my spine. " better."

There's a silence that befalls us, he doesn't say anything and I don't dare too either. It's the old Italian lady whose words force us apart.

" oh, I know true love when I see it." she says with a bright smile and hopeful and it makes both me and Callum recoil, we stare at each other and when he breaks eye contact first, I awkwardly gesture to the changing room.

" I'm gonna..just-" I don't even finish as I stumble back into the shop and change into my own clothes and look at the dress that feel like had been stained by what just happened — another thing I will look at and think of Callum.

Make me think of us,
Make me think of the distance that has grown between us, me wondering why and him not doing anything to bring us back together again.

The unanswered messages

The calls sent to voicemail

The abundance of things that I had littered around his house in years of friendship stuffed into a box and placed on my doorstep with no warning.

The ten months that I've picked apart everything I've done and wondered how I sent my best friend away.

The same Ten months that I blamed myself and haven't come back to the city that I love, a place that's my home all just because I might see him.

I exhale, bowing my head. The way sadness can flicker into anger so quickly is scary. All my longing gazes at his distant eyes now turn into hard glares.

Bringing out the dress and placing it back on the rack, earning confused looks both from Callum that I don't acknowledge because I'm angry.

Passing the old lady as I give her a smile "grazie." I say as I walk past Callum and back down to the normal street.

Taking a few seconds to catch me up as he walks beside me. My arms now folded against my chest, eyes feeling like they're about to twinkle with pent up tears that will soon reside in them again, anger simmering in my face.

Tension takes over the civility that sat in our silence — Callum looking at me, wondering what's going on inside my head. I don't even really know except knowing I'm sad and angry when I don't want to be either of those things anymore.

" hey," he pulls at my arms, leading us to some tree where shade cools the ache of the burning of my skin.

I look at him, " what's going on?"

Lying as I say " I don't feel well, I just want to go back to the house." Avoiding his eyes but still somehow giving the illusion I'm looking at them.

A lie he reads right through, it's transparent as day to any person never mind the person I think knows me better than anyone else.

His hand lifts to cup my cheek, as I look at him with storms in my eyes and push away his touch with a subtle turn of my head — " why are you lying?" he asks and I exhale.

I feel fed up with it all, " I'm sick of this Callum." I tell him, not permitting enough time him to reply

" how long is it until you hate me again? how long until you act like I've wronged you in some way? how long until you—" my heart aches as I feel tear dribble from my eyes, I turn away again. Unable to stop a small sniffle as I inhale through my nose.

And he watches, as I unravel in front of him. Almost a year of wondering what I had done fall to pieces as I have held it in. My head bows and I catch my face in my hands. My anger comes out in tears that soak into my skin as I look up at him.

" I'm so angry with you." I speak through quivering lips and watering eyes. This is my anger , I don't scream, I don't shout.

Instead stare my anger comes through a stare, the sadness clouds the hurt that I look at him with. And he registers it,

" and I'm sick of trying to make amends, when you were the one who fucked up in the first place." I point at him, the hurt in my eyes growing, " and-and I'm so tired of treading on egg shells around you, of leaving the country I grew up in, the house that I love, the people I adore-"

" nobody asked you to do that." he comments. And I feel that knife he currently has lodged in my chest twist just that little bit more.

The sadness is soon turning to rage, the cloudiness in my eyes turning to a red fog.

And I know he knows that he's just fucked up. His head turns as I reply " what other choice did I have? You left my life and took half of my friends with you!" I reply, " everywhere I went, everywhere I looked- I saw you and I fucking hated being there."

His eyes meet mine, squinted slightly as I watch sadness swarm the gentleness of them,

" because they reminded you of me?" he asks and I look at him dead in the eyes.

" because they reminded me of the person who broke my fucking heart." I feel the vibrations of my quivering bottom lip as I can't hold the gaze any longer.

Facing the calm sea yet my eyes are closed, my breath heavy as tears fall down my cheeks. Pressing a flat palm to my churning stomach.

I just want to go home.
I just want to be as far away from here, from him as possible.

I take in another breath when I hear his voice.

" Olls-" he says, my name so gentle on his tongue. Yet I hate it — it makes my eyes clench tighter a I turn my head.  Callum's face stoic as he gestures to a small group of teenage girls who whisper amongst one another who will approach us first.

Fuck. I look at Callum as his stature straighten as he becomes more aware of our situation, the fact we're out in public and the fact people are watching, phones in hand.

I turn my head back, " fuck." I begin to rub my eyes and sniffle, putting my drama experience to use as I begin to laugh through the ache that consumes me.

" bloody hayfever." I say to Callum a little louder than I need to, than I usually would, my smile to him fake yet I feel him try and think it's real, that whatever positive relationship that lingers between us is authentic.

His hand places on my shoulder, before sliding around to wrap around my shoulder, a feeling I have to fight not to wince at " I think we've got tablets at the house." he plays into it, as I nod and smile.

Walking past the array of cameras with a small wave of my hand. I hear the squeals when we begin to walk back to the car, Callum still keeping me close. Most likely because he knows it won't happen for a long time after we get into that car.

I turn my head, noticing the absence of people that linger behind us anymore. I lift my hand, picking Callum's arm off of my shoulder. I hear a strained exhale leave his lips as I cross my arms and pick up my pace to create distance between us.

Fuck Civility. I'm not the one who ruined it. I answered texts and calls. I was the one who was wronged and I'm sick of acting like I wasn't.

I approach the car, sliding into the passenger seat, the leather of the car interior burning my skin. When I hear the driver door open, I turn my head and stare out the window. I can feel him contemplating talking to me, yet I don't think he cares enough to say anything that will change us. And that hurts more, the fact that he just doesn't care anymore.

The car starts and I blankly stare at the scenery which is fuzzed from my still watering eyes. The Italian radio station is playing some slow song that I can only assume is a love song. My eyes squeeze shut as I feel my shoulders shake as the sobs come out. They're not quiet and well concealed, instead they come out as if I can't breathe ( which I can't) and I'm a blubbering mess.

I turn to look straightforward. My head bowed as my breathing becomes progressively more ragged; my sobs louder and my tears faster.

I go from feeling nothing to feeling everything in a moment. From Callum being so far away and the car still racing down these streets, to the stationary position and his arms wrapped around me. And despite my hatred that me and my broken have for him, I wrap my arms around him. My tears staining his shirt, the sound that comes from my sobs staining on his heart.

The closest we've been since we were normal last. And even then we weren't normal, Drew had come to London for the first time — and it was the first time Callum had met him. The one and only time that Callum had ever met him.

I hear his gentle voice tell me that " it's ok" , a voice I listen to. A person I trust. At least I did once. And I hold him tighter, inhale longer lengths of breath to smell the scent of his cologne which use to be so vivid to me but feels like a distant memory now. He, as a whole is just a distant memory now.

I eventually pull away, looking at him as he softly smiles in a silent attempt to make the pain go away.

" Why Cal?" I ask him, and he knows exactly what I'm asking. Why did he do it?

His head shakes " you don't want to know, but it was best for both of us." He tells me, and I look at him confused — which perfectly reflects the feeling on the inside.

I can't help but let out a small pitiful laugh, too tired to fight him on it anymore " always so cryptic." I hum, and he nods.

I feel him lean closer, his lips push against the top of my head, eyes squeezing shut. And when they open he looks at me with a soft yet saddened smile.

" but do you believe me when I say it was for the best?" he hums and I shake my head.

It's a honest reaction " I don't think I'll ever understand, even if you ever decide to tell me."

" but it wasn't about you, it was all me."

He tells me, and I just nod although this is too much information for me to take in my mental state.

We begin to drive again, my sobbing has dulled down to occasional slip of a tear. As Callum's most recent confessional lingers in my brain,

It wasn't about you, it was all me.

What had he done that badly? What had he done at all but be the most important person in my life for stemming on a decade? What had he done but to love me and support me unconditionally?

My head turns as I become familiar with the roads, meaning we're close now. I watch him and then I reach my hand to his that sits on the gearstick and let them intertwine slightly.

" I wish you would have just said something, whatever it was." I tell him, " we could have gotten through it together."

The car pulls up and he turns to me, letting out a small laugh. " no, no we couldn't have." He tells me, letting go of my hand and sliding out the car.

Another strained exhale leaves my lips as I too leave the car. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, as the words " hello stranger." enter my sound wave.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh god.

" suprised?" Drew stands in the doorway of the house as I look up at him with a smile, it's hesitant but it's still there. He approaches swiftly, my brain feels like it's been sat in a fryer all day. I need to lie down.

" what are you doing here?" I ask and his face falters and his hand moves to sit around my waist, pulling me in closer.

" I came to see my girlfriend, convinced Jonas to give me the weekend off." And I smile but I can feel the burning eyes of Callum from behind us that makes me stop slightly.

" hey," Drew recoils " you alright?" he asks and I smile and nod. He pulls me in, into an embrace as I look over his shoulder.

" yeah yeah, just a little shocked that's all." I say, my chin on his shoulder and my eyes falling to Callum as he walks into the house without even a second glance at me or at Drew.

AUTHORS NOTE.

the fact that last time I updated this book Callum turner was my niche celebrity crush and now he's the internet's boyfriend....