Stealing Hearts

The room smelt of cheap and stale perfume. Its old scent was overpowering and stuck to the inside of every nose that dared breath in. The tiny and invisible particles of the nasty scent embedded themselves into every fibre of every fabric that was in the room, even her clothes smelt like stale and long forgotten roses that had begun rotting.

A young girl with short white blonde was sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor of her tiny bedroom. In front her was a large shoebox that had once held the glorious treasure of a pair of limited edition Kurt Geiger shoes. However what filled it now were not shoes.

She pulled the lid off the box gently and this time it revealed a different treasure. Inside the box there were pieces of expensive jewellery, tiny sparkly scarves, paper clips, small toys, designer make up, sachets of sugar, fountain pens, hair bands, belts, small trinkets, little packets of honey and slat, watches, golden chains and various high street sunglasses.

These were the things that when taken caused her whole body to relax and for her mind to return to a stable state where she could function normally and interact with the people she cared about most.

People had often told Chloe that there was something not right with her, that she had problems with her head. But they were wrong Chloe's mother adamantly insisted, not wanting the reckless suspicions of other teenagers to bring down Chloe's self esteem even more. It took years and years for Chloe to convince herself that she was not a freak or something abnormal; she was just different. But she kept this fact close to her; she did not desire the excess and unwanted attention that came with the territory.

The door to Chloe's room suddenly sprung up and a girl of her age with dark brown hair and dressed in a bright blue trench coat, flooded into the room, bringing with her the fresh scent of the cold outdoors. The new girl's cheeks were a flushed pink, indicating the difference in temperature outside.

Chloe slammed the lid back onto her shoe carton, shoved this with force under her bed, and noted with relief that the brunette had not noticed anything.

Eleanor Rose Adams was the perfect contrast to Chloe Andrea Rider, and to some people to was a mystery why these two girls would go so far as the share a tiny and pathetic excuse for an apartment, which was over priced and had almost no kitchen to speak of.

But as they say opposites attract.

Eleanor was short but had hips and curves in the right places, her pride and joy was her luscious dark brown hair which she spent almost as much time styling as her boyfriend. She was outspoken and was a girl that everybody simply adored. She was studying child psychology at the university of York and everybody was of the same opinion that in her group of friends she was defiantly the mother.

Chloe on the other hand was tall and stick thin, something Eleanor had always been jealous of. Her white blonde hair spoke of generations born in far colder places than England. She was a shy girl, who when confronted with strangers could hardly bring herself to utter a word and so it was generally thought that Chloe was only tolerated in the various friendship circles because of her close bond to Eleanor. Chloe's refuge was art, something that she did with passion and the talent for the subject flowed out of her fingertips, through the paintbrush and left its marks on the canvases she used.

"You look happy," Chloe stated quietly, looking up at her friend through her thick eyelashes.

Eleanor beamed down at Chloe, unable to mask her joy.

"The boys are back tonight!"

Innerly Chloe groaned. She was not too fond of the boys, they did not take much of a shine to her, finding that she did not fit into the close knot group and disliked her for not attempting to make any effort.

But regardless of this fact Eleanor was always the one encouraging Chloe and dragging her along to meet them. It was only natural that she wanted her best friend to meet and get on with her boyfriend.

Eleanor unwrapped the scarf around her neck and threw it onto Chloe's bed without a second thought. The scarf would disappear within two days, leaving Eleanor unable to find it and Chloe insisting that she had no idea where it was. But at present Eleanor did not know this and she was far too caught up in her happiness to care about the future.

"When was the last time you saw George?" Chloe asked, feeling the need to say something on the topic of the boys before Eleanor bit her head off.

"Two months," Eleanor said wistfully, but a smile suddenly broke out on her face. "But they aren't going on tour again till after Christmas, isn't that great? I said we'd meet them in the pub in town tonight, so come on we need to get dressed!"

Eleanor was out of the room before Chloe could even utter her protests at not wanting to be put through another gruelling evening where no one would talk to her, and where she couldn't pluck up the courage to initiate the exchange of words that were otherwise known as a conversation.

Music suddenly filled the tiny apartment as a familiar voice started to sing 'You and me, we're quality'. It was the voice that Eleanor had been dying to hear with the person whom the voice belonged to, actually standing in front of her and looking her in the eyes whilst he was saying whatever he had to say.

Chloe could hear Eleanor singing along to the words that had most likely been written for her and she couldn't help but feel a sting of jealousy. Reluctantly she made her way to her wardrobe and pulled out a simple white long sleeved t-shirt on. She slipped into some cleaner jeans and reached for her ballet flats, not bothering with make up. She was already stood by the door, coat and gloves in hands, as she waited patiently for Eleanor to finish her regime, and as usual when they were going out, Eleanor's outfit left Chloe feeling like a fashion mistake.

Eleanor appeared ten minutes later in black skinny jeans, a soft black v-necked sweater that looked like it belonged to George, a long vintage Chanel necklace was draped around her neck and on her feet were a pair of flat grey ankle boots that she had rescued from another vintage shop. Her straight long dark brown her was shining with health and moved perfectly with every step she took. A fresh scent of roses wafted over to Chloe as Eleanor pulled on her bright blue trench coat and then her little mittens, all in an attempt to keep the harsh Yorkshire winds from causing her body to go numb.

"You ready?" Eleanor asked with her bright smile adorning her face.

Chloe just nodded in affirmation and proceeded to open the door of the apartment and both girls walked out side by side, one thrilled about the evening that was lying ahead, the other girl dreading what was about to happen.

The tension in Chloe was rising and she felt the muscles in her neck tense, her hands balled together in fists, hidden inside the pockets of her coat.

Eleanor misread Chloe's demeanour and put a comforting hand on her arm.

"Hey don't look so worried, the boys are actually looking forward to seeing you again," Eleanor tried to reassure her, but in the end this comment only caused an increase of tension in Chloe, and her mind became scattered, causing her to slightly loose her grip on reality.

If Eleanor had known the effect that the upcoming evening was going to have no Chloe, Eleanor would have been more than happy to leave Chloe at home staring into the shoebox of treasures that she was hording. But unfortunately Eleanor did not have the gift of foresight, and so the avalanche began steaming forwards.