Station De Coeur

After I had gotten changed into my dress and made up my face as best as I could, I walked back into my bedroom and saw that Elliot had curled up into a ball on the bed. I laughed quietly as I crept over to him, my heels in one hand, and leaned over him. He was like a sleeping baby that I couldn’t help letting out a ‘Nawwww’. Even after that he was still fast asleep so I leaned over him and kissed him on the cheek.

His eyes opened slightly and then blinked open as he twisted on to back beneath me, my legs and hands of either side of him. I stared at him with a little shock and Elliot smile.

“Well,” he began.

“No, you muppet,” I laughed, sitting down on his legs as she sat up.

“Not saying I’m offended, but why wouldn’t you have sex with me?”

My eyes opened wider. I didn’t even think he would ask me so I struggled for words. The truth was that despite this over compelling urge to rip his clothes off and show him a bit of Maxxi-Mae style, I still thought it was wrong for friends to do it. I was confused on what to do with myself.

“I dunno…” I admitted.

I got off his lap and began to put on my heels whilst standing up, and crouched to tie up the ribbon. Elliot picked up his keys from the bed side table and yawned as he walked towards the hall, pulling on his shoes as he walked. I grabbed my cardigan on my way out and followed him out the apartment.

“What time do you want me show up?” He asked, rubbing the back of his head.

“Twelve, why?”

He opened up the door and I walked through, turning to watch him close it on his way out.

“I just got a few things to do this morning.” He said with a smiled.

“Like what?”

This time he didn’t say anything and I felt a little odd- there couldn’t be anything he’s keeping secret that was that bad… was there?



Things were running smoothly after I had turned up but as the time got closer and closer to twelve, things began to fall apart. The dresses had developed tears that were too fiddly to mend and the head ache was increasing in pain.

Only fifteen minutes until my models were to walk on the cat walk and my dilemma was still not fixed. I crouched in the corner of the room, my head rested in my palm. Christa, one of the models, stood in front of me and I could sense she was staring right into my head.

“Stop thinking it’s the end of the world, Max,” she said. I slowly looked up at her. “You have a few minutes and you can simply pin fabric over the tears. No one will notice.”

I leaned my head into my hand once again. “That could work,”

I jumped up and ran as fast as I could to the textiles room. On my way, I took off my shoes and sprinted until my toes were nearly bleeding. I crashed into the open Textiles room and grabbed the remaining silk and chiffon I had left and sprinted all the way back.

Once back at the back stage, I wasted no time trying to pin up and cover the tears. On the last dress, I was fixing it as she was walking towards the stage. I was so quick at putting in the last pin that I managed to prick my finger and draw blood. I was on an exhaustion melt down and once the models were on the walk way, I resorted to the corner once again, my finger still in my mouth and I lost control of the consciousness and was stuck in a strange trance, staring into the distance. I had achieved what I wanted and yet I wasn’t happy about it.

Did I fail?

An a hour after the catwalk had finished and the after party had begun, I was still crouched in the corner with my head still stuck in a trance and my finger, which had stopped bleeding, was still in my mouth; the skin on my feet had stretch as I crouched on the balls of my feet and blood had began to seep into a hidden pool beneath.

There was a brisk shake to my body and I blinked vigorously until my dark eyes fixed on a familiar face.

“Elliot.” I smiled brightly, standing up.

“What’s wrong with you?” He laughed. “Your feet are bleeding and the girls say you’ve been staring into the distance for ages.”

I lost my smile and slowly looked at my feet. “Oh, they really are.”

I began to walk towards the bath rooms which were inside the main building but behind me I had left blood foot prints.

“Jesus, Max,” Rhea gasped, walking in front of me.

“Rhea, would you take her to get her feet cleaned?” Asked Elliot.

“Yeah,” Said Rhea as she took hold of my arm. “You shouldn’t walk bare footed. Here, take my shoes.”

She slipped out of her ballerina shoes and nudged them towards me.

“I’ll ruin them,” I sobbed, a few tears falling down my face.

“It’s fine.”

I cringed as I put my bloody, dirty feet into her shoes and couldn’t help apologizing to her repeatedly. She took me to the Aid box in the Textiles room and she cleaned my feet as I lay motionless of the table. She asked me a load of questions, trying to make the situation less awkward but I couldn’t even think of words. It was like as if someone had stolen my Dictionary and burned it.

“Is it strange… that I don’t feel any pain?” I asked eventually.

I would have felt tingling pain in my feet but there wasn’t a single thing there; if she had stuck a pin in as well, I don’t think I would have felt anything. The flu doesn’t do this to you as well, does it?

I sat up and Rhea stared at me. “What?”

“Maybe you should go to the doctors some time.” She said with concern.

“Maybe.” I said simply before standing on my bandaged feet. “You’re… good at this. Did you do… first aid?”

“Yeah,” she nodded her head vigorously. “Let’s go.”