Imperfectly Beautiful

The cold air conditioning rushed out through the open doors as I walked through the entrance of Rupture. After all of these years of coming here, it still managed to look exactly the same. I trudged my way down the room until I came to the podium where customers usually waited to be seated. I thought that I would see the same employee that had worked here since my brothers and I first found this place. She would know exactly where to place me, even if there was only a party of one this afternoon, and I would order off of the same laminated menu that I had for years.

I glanced up at the podium and saw a hand written sign taped up to the front of it.

Please don’t wait to be seated, read the sign. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion before walking to the back of the restaurant and taking my seat in my usual corner. It wasn’t long before I saw a black book being slammed down on the table next to me.

“Can I start you off with something to drink?” The waitress asked quietly. I looked up from the table, expecting to see Peyton. My face dropped when I saw an unfamiliar red head glancing down at me impatiently.

“Coffee, please.” I murmured, watching as she placed a menu down before me and nodded her head. Without another word she walked away from the table.

I buried my face in my hands and took a slow, deep, breath. Even the place where I came to get away from everything had changed.

The woman came back with my coffee rather quickly and once again pulled out her black book.

“Have you decided on anything or do you need some more time?” She asked, focusing her attention on the blank sheet of paper that was in front of her. I pressed my hands flat on the table and looked up at her.

“Where’s the lady that usually seats people?” I asked suddenly, “Why isn’t she there anymore?”

The waitress looked away from her notebook and then glanced over her shoulder.

“She’s filling in for a waitress,” she told me, “someone quit this morning, so we’re a little short handed. I usually work in the kitchen, but they needed someone to take the girl’s tables until they can find another person to come in and take her hours.”

My stomach rolled around restlessly. “Peyton?” I heard myself ask the girl standing in front of me, “Is it Peyton who quit?”

She looked at me questionably and nodded her head slowly, finally closing the book that still lay open in her hands. “Yeah, how do you-”

“How much does this coffee cost?” I asked quickly, pulling my wallet out of my back pocket. “Five dollars? Keep the change.”

I stood up from the table and politely maneuvered my way through the maze of chairs and tables that led back outside.

Running a hand through my untidy hair, I began making my way down the boardwalk, knowing exactly where it would take me. One thing I didn’t know, though, was why I was choosing to go in this direction.



I hadn’t looked up from the planks of wood since I left town, so the sudden sound of waves crashing against the shore startled me. I glimpsed up at the rolling water and scanned the horizon, almost instantly spotting the blonde haired girl that I had grown to know very well over the past few months sitting on a bench alone.

She struggled to focus her camera on whatever it was in front of her before sighing and letting the camera slide down onto the seat next to her. My stomach rolled around nervously as I began to walk her way.

I dragged my feet across the sandy wood before looking up into Peyton’s eyes.

“Hi,” I murmured softly, watching as a soft breeze flowed through her long, blonde, hair. Strangely, she didn’t tell me to walk away. Or ignore me. Or say something that would make me regret coming out here in the first place. She smiled back at me weakly and nodded toward the empty spot on the bench next to her.

“Hi,” she replied, watching as I sat down next to her. We both sat in silence and studied the way the waves brushed up against the shore repeatedly.

“Have you-”

“How are-”

We both glanced at each other sheepishly. I nodded toward her and smirked gently. “Ladies first.”

“I was just going to say,” Peyton cleared her throat awkwardly, “How are you doing?”

I nodded my head and considered her question. How was I doing? I had broken up with my fiancée only hours before walking down to the beach, where I saw the girl who I have been in love with for months, and I am now sitting on a bench awkwardly answering her question, which is obviously just an attempt at small talk.

“I’m doing pretty good,” I lied, dropping my eyes onto the beach before us. “What about you?”

“Great,” Peyton answered quickly, nodding her head as if she were also convincing herself. “I’m doing really great.”

I nodded my head, “That’s good to hear.”

The corner of Peyton’s mouth twitched as I looked back up at her. I knew she felt my eyes
on her, but she continued to look out into the water.

“So, you quit your job.” I said awkwardly, watching as Peyton continued to look into the
water, unfazed by my statement.

“I’m leaving, Joe.” Peyton whispered after a few moments. I was almost too caught up in the way the sun had
shined brightly onto her sun-kissed skin to catch what she had just said. “Tomorrow, for
Pennsylvania.”

“W-what…” I felt my heart begin to accelerate under my skin. “…why? What’s in
Pennsylvania?”

“My family.” Peyton answered serenely, stuffing her hands into lap. She dropped her
head now and glanced down at her balled up fists. “I need to see my parents. I need to work things
out with my life, and staying here isn’t going to do that.”

“But what about photography?” I bit my lower lip to keep myself from saying what I was
really thinking. What about me?

“An opportunity will be here when I come back,” Peyton concluded. By the way she
sounded so sure of herself, I could tell that she had thought all of this through. “and maybe an
opportunity will be out in Pennsylvania. I’ll never know until I try.”

“But Harmony-”

“Harmony will be fine,” Peyton snapped, running a shaking hand through her silky hair.
“Harmony is going out to Los Angeles. She got a job offer from a photographer at the last art
show. He loved our work, and offered her a position at his studio.”

I glanced at Peyton unsurely. “ ‘Our work’? Why was she the only one who got offered a
job if he liked your photography, too?”

“He did offer me a job,” Peyton impatiently said. “But I turned it down.”

“Why?” I pushed, watching as Peyton squeezed her eyes shut. “This is what you
have wanted for so long, Pey. And I know that. Photography is your calling.”

She silently forced her eyes back open and then glanced down at her camera that was set
on the space between us.

“Yeah well,” She swallowed and shook her head, “things change, Joe.”

I shook my head and gripped onto her hands without thinking. “You can’t do this to
yourself, Peyton. Photography is your passion. It’s so much more than your job. And what is
giving up on that going to do to you? You may feel like you’re a mess now, but if you give up on
the one true thing that makes you happy in life, you’re going to feel a lot worse. If you give
up on this, Pey, years from now…you’ll regret it. And if you should listen to anyone, it’s me. I
would know.”

“Joe, please don’t do this.” Peyton pleaded, but I shook my head and continued.

“You can’t leave, Peyton. You have everything here. Why are you letting go of all of
that?”

“Because…” a troubled look flooded across her face. “because I have to.”

“No you don’t,” I argued, falling back into the bench. I stared into the waves quietly as
Peyton sat broken next to me. “Nothing is holding you back. If you want your dream, you have
to fight for it.”

Peyton turned rigidly toward me and took a deep breath before speaking. “Everything is hold me back now, Joe." She said, her voice suddenly wavering. "I have more
important things to worry about right now than my stupid dreams.” She bit her lower lip to supress a sob.

"What are you talking about?" I question in frustration. She laughed sourly before shaking her head and letting her sight fall down onto the surface in front of her.

“I’m…I’m pregnant.”

My stomach dropped down to my knees as Peyton glanced up at me with tears threatening
to pour down her cheeks.

“I didn’t want to have to tell you like this,” she whispered, “I was going to find some
other way to let you know. I just…I can’t stick around here and be reminded of what we used to
have. I need a new start in a new town, or something. I just…I need to get away.” Peyton
explained, reaching out for the camera between us.

“But Peyton-”

“Joe, please.” Peyton sighed and glanced up at the water.

I let my hand fall down onto hers and I squeezed it tightly, urging her to let go of the
camera strap.

“It’s…It’ll be alright, Peyton.” I said quietly, not sure of what else I could say. A sob
escaped Peyton’s lips before she shook her head and stood up.

“I have to go.” She mumbled, struggling to even drape the camera strap around her
shoulder. I stood up from the bench and tried to reach out to her, but she had walked away too
fast.

“Peyton, please don’t leave.” I pleaded weakly. She continued to stumble her way down
the boardwalk. “What’s walking away from me going to do?”

I sighed and ran a shaking hand through my knotted hair when Peyton didn’t even
acknowledge me. It seemed to me that nothing I told Peyton could change her mind. And
maybe, unfortunately, I would have to live with that.



I slammed the apartment door open and stared into the empty room. No one was there to
greet me. Not Camilla, not Peyton, not my family, or my few friends. No one.

I kicked my shoes off and sloppily threw my room keys onto the counter, watching as they
slid their way off onto the floor. I didn’t care. What was the point in picking them up, anyways? I
didn’t need them.

I didn’t plan on leaving the apartment ever again unless I physically had to. I clenched my
hands into fists, trying to suppress all of my anger, all of my disappointment, all of my lost hope, into
the balls of my hands, but it was useless. Nothing could work as therapy for what I was feeling.

I fell onto the couch and punched in the button on the answering machine, listening to my
new messages.

“Joe,” Kevin’s voice sounded strained and worried, “it’s Kevin. I heard about what
happened last night…call me back when you get this. Bye.”

I pressed delete and cautiously listened to Nick’s message, which sounded strangely alike.

As Nick continued to go on about how sorry he was for having any influence on my
decision, I stood up from the couch and walked into the kitchen, opening my refrigerator just to
slam the door shut a few moments later.

The sound of paper hitting the floor forced me to look to my left, where I saw a folded
note float its way down onto the wood floor.

Joe the note read on the very front. The handwriting was obvious. The way the end
of the letter J morphed its way into an O showed me that Camilla had written this note. Which
meant that she had already been by to pick up her things.

After picking the note up off of the floor, I looked around me, just now noticing that the
apartment did seem a little bit emptier than usual. I began making my way out of the kitchen,
but just as my finger lingered on top of the light switch, something shiny on the kitchen counter
caught my eye.

The ring I had given Camilla, the one I bought the night after dropping Peyton off at her
house, sat on the counter, looking as cold and as lonely as ever.

I flicked the light switch off and stumbled my way into my bedroom, closing the door shut
behind me. Without bothering to turn off the light, I slid into the pile of sheets that were tossed
around my mattress and squeezed my eyes shut.

Noticing that the note Camilla had left me was still clenched in my palm, I sighed and held
my hand out over the bed, letting the wadded up piece of paper fall into the darkness.