by Holly Bourne
“I was wasted, Audrey. I was so drunk. The absinthe… Ouch.”
Another runner knocked into him and called, “Watch it, mate,” before sprinting off into the woods. Most people were past the start line now. I heard screams and laughter echo from the trees as zombies attacked.
“But you were sober enough to remember it happened?” I could hardly talk my voice wobbled so much.
Because he must remember. He was so weird this morning. Not weird. Guilty. Not able to look me in the eye.
“No!” he protested. “Not at first. I woke up, your message woke me up. I…I…” He shook his head, looked away, looked back. “I…woke up with Rosie. I…I didn’t know what had happened. I had to ask her.”
I closed my eyes as if it would shield me from the pain his words caused. It didn’t work. I blinked again and again. But the pain, and the images of them. Curled up naked in Harry’s bed, light streaming through his red curtains, their bodies entwined, unclean from the things they’d done the night before.
I didn’t believe him.
I didn’t believe a word of what he was saying.
My ribcage caved in then, falling in on itself, crumbling into dust, taking my heart with it, falling, falling into a blackness inside of me.
A steward came up to us, looking baffled. “Hey, you guys running or not?”
And I realized I couldn’t stand to be in this moment any longer. Couldn’t stand to be having this conversation. Couldn’t stand to be confronting this new reality. I had to leave, go, get away.
I had to run.
“Audrey! Where are you going? Come back.”
His voice ricocheted off me as I sped past the start line and ran into the woods, my arms pumping, adrenaline kicking in, pain pushing me forward. It was much darker in the canopy of trees, and the shrieks of runners ahead were much louder. I paused for a second as the path split into five, my brain incapable of decision-making. It allowed Harry to catch up with me. He grabbed me, trying to force me to look at him again.
“Please, don’t run away,” he begged. “Please, Audrey. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please.”
I pelted down the far right, along the edge of the woods. He was hot on my tail.
“I’m not going to let you go,” he called through huffing and puffing. “You have to hear me out, please, I’m sorry.”
We didn’t come across any zombies. Only runners who’d already lost all their tags, walking with their heads down, trying to find the supervisors.
“Keep going,” they yelled at us in encouragement, unaware of the massive domestic I was running from. “It’s clear ahead, they’re further into the middle of the woods.”
It was impossible to know if they were being honest, or luring us into a trap. I didn’t really care. It became obvious which one when, suddenly, a zombie jumped out from behind a bush.
“BRAINS!” the actor yelled, his head dripping with fake blood, clothes ripped.
I didn’t even flinch. “Fuck off!” I dodged out of his grasp and pounded further into the woods. I heard Harry thundering behind me, followed by, “Fuck off, mate, leave me alone!” When I allowed myself to look back, I saw he only had four tags on him. It got quieter and I emerged into dappled sunlight, in a small clearing. I leaned over, taking huge gulps of air to replenish my overworked lungs. And that. That’s when the tears came. A flood of them, bursting the banks of my eyes, falling down my face, onto my cheeks, splattering my legs.
Harry.
Harry had cheated on me.
Oh God, it hurt. It’s so simple, happens so often, but how it hurt. Like a sting. Like an ache. Like a burn. Like being punched. No one ever tells you how much heartbreak physically hurts. How it literally feels like you’ve been kicked down the stairs. How you can’t swallow. How every muscle aches. How your heart lurches inside you like it’s been poisoned. Nobody tells you that.
People should tell you that.
I heard panting and Harry staggered out into the clearing. His face was practically yellow, snot all down his face. From his crying.
Because Harry was crying.
And that, that inexplicably bought him five minutes.
“Audrey, I’m so, so, so sorry. It’s not as bad as…”
“I get to decide how bad it is.” My voice choked.
He took a step closer and I bolted back. He sensed it and put his hands up, signalling that he wasn’t going to get any closer. We had the clearing between us.
“You knew…” My voice was so strained, so high-pitched as I fought to get the words out. “You knew…after Milo…after my dad… You promised not to hurt me… You knew how…” I didn’t finish the sentence. He did know. He knew how vulnerable I was. I hadn’t lied about it, or hidden it. I’d owned it, exposed it. Spelled it out to him that I was holding out my battered heart on my palm and offering it to him. And he’d taken hold of it, sworn to help me nurse it back to health.
He’d lied.
“It really didn’t mean anything… I don’t even really remember it…”
“So you do remember it?” Liar. He was a liar.
“Hardly! Audrey, I was so drunk. If you’d been there! It wouldn’t—”
“MY MUM WAS IN HOSPITAL!”
“I know, I know this is all my fault. And I’m so sorry about your mum. I didn’t know… Fuck, Audrey…I was so drunk… But it’s not as bad as you think. We didn’t… We didn’t have sex.”
A scream echoed around the woods, scattering birds. We both watched them fly off. It wasn’t from far away. The zombies must be near.
They didn’t have sex.
Didn’t have sex.
Didn’t.
Have.
Sex.
Didn’t.
Was this salvageable? Was it? Was this not what it looked like? Could I handle a kiss?
“What happened?” I asked, my tears temporarily disabled. “Tell me exactly what happened. And don’t lie to me about being too drunk to remember.”
“We didn’t have sex.”
“But?”
He paused, sniffed, wiped his snotty nose with the back of his arm. Shook his head. That’s when I knew it was bad. The fact he paused. Wanting to prolong the moment where he still had a chance, knowing he wouldn’t have one after this. I started crying again. It wasn’t just a kiss. Not that I was sure I could even get over a kiss.
“But…oh, Audrey… I didn’t do anything to her but she…she…”
“Tell me.” My voice was a squeak.
“She gave me a blow job, okay?”
I found myself touching my chest, checking my heart was still there. Harry was spluttering on. “It was nothing! I mean, I can’t tell you how wasted I was. I told her this morning, that it meant nothing. That I loved you.” He hiccupped a sob, then looked into my eyes across the clearing. “I didn’t do anything to her. I love you, Audrey.”
I shook my head. “No.” The word came out instinctively. “No,” I repeated. “You don’t tell me you love me. Not now. Not after…” I sighed and threw my head up to the golden sun, like the sky might have the answers. It hurt so much.
A blow job.
I mean…
What even?
“I do love you. I was going to tell you last night. After filming finished. I’m not just saying this, Audrey. I was going to.”
I blinked away more tides of tears and looked back down.
It was then I saw them.
The zombie actors. Creeping up behind him. Four of them. Faux-staggering. Totally oblivious to our drama. Harry totally oblivious to them. They noticed me notice and smiled, made the shh sign, their blueish fingers held over their mouths. I had a good ten metres on them.
Harry… He was going to get taken out.
“So, you were going to tell me you loved me but you let someone suck your penis instead?” I said dully. “Bit of a contradiction, isn’t it?”
“Please, Audrey. I’m sorry. I love you. I love you so much.”
“BRAAAAAAAAINS!�
� The zombies charged. Harry’s eyes widened. I shrugged at him.
“Hang on, guys, we’re trying to have a conversation. We’re not in the race any more. Guys, come on. Please. GUYYYYYYYYYYYSSSS!”
And my feet were thundering under me, my aching body carrying me away from them, away from Harry, back into the woods, as his surprised yelp scattered more birds, which flew with me deeper into the trees.
Harry: Audrey, I’m so sorry. Where are you?! I can’t find you anywhere. X x x x x x x x
Audrey: I got a lift home with a zombie who is less dead to me than you. Now will you please kindly fuck off.
Harry: Please hear me out. Please let me come round. I love you. I wasn’t lying. I’m in love with you.
Audrey: Harry cheated on me…
Alice: What!?
Becky: OMFG THE BASTARD. Are you okay?
Audrey: No.
Charlie: We’re coming over. We’ll be there in half an hour.
Harry: Why won’t you see me? Your mum said you’re not in but I know you are. Please. I’m not giving up on you, on us. I love you. X x x x x x
Leroy: The fucker! You can do SO much better, sweetheart.
Harry: I can’t stop thinking about you. Please give me another chance x
LouLou: Okay, so Harry told me what happened and you also didn’t turn up to work today. Audrey, I’m so sorry. Are you coming back into work? I can fire Harry if you want? He deserves it. I hate that I was right about him.
Audrey: Hey. Don’t fire him. He needs the job. LouLou, I hope we can still be friends but I’m not coming back to Flicker. Sorry x
George Dyson Estate Agents
10 Bridgely High Street
Bridgely-upon-Thames
BT5 6TY
Dear Ms Winters,
Thank you for choosing us as your estate agent. We endeavour to get you the best price for your property. You mentioned you don’t want to move until September, but we can put the house on the market now. Due to the location of the property and the current selling climate, we think we’ll be able to get you a high offer.
Yours sincerely,
George Dyson
Harry: The movie is finished. It’s amazing. You’re amazing. I wish I could show it to you. I still love you, Audrey. I will never stop being sorry.
Harry: PLEASE I L(VE YOU SU FKCING MUCH WHY WONTY YOU TALK TO ME IM SO MESSSED UP IMSORRY I LOVEYOU AUDREY IM SORRY SO SORRY PLEASE PICKUP THE PHONE PLEASE I L9VE T x
Dougie: You need to leave my sister alone otherwise I’m going to gut you.
Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama
Dear Audrey Winters,
We are delighted to invite you to audition at the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama. We were blown away by your video audition. It was unlike anything we’ve ever seen before. Below is the audition date, alongside information about how to get here, where to stay and what to expect. We look forward to meeting you, Audrey.
Yours sincerely,
Joe Headley
Course Leader
Audrey: I GOT AN AUDITION AT ROYAL WELSH.
Leroy: OMFG SERIOUSLY? I am so jealous I could DIE. When is it?!
Audrey: Next week.
Leroy: Wanna run lines?
Audrey: I love you!
Audrey: I can’t stop thinking about him, Leroy.
Leroy: Don’t go there babes, trust me x x
Audrey: I know… It’s just…I love him.
Leroy: No you don’t.
Audrey: It doesn’t work like that. It’s not as easy as that.
Leroy: Isn’t it?
LouLou: Hey Audrey, how have you been? We all miss you! When can we grab a catch-up coffee? Sorry to bother you, but Ma is getting on at me about your uniform. Do you mind dropping by to return it? Otherwise she’s threatening to charge you.
Audrey: Hey, I’m good… I think. How are you? I can drop it round tomorrow morning, before I have to go to Wales. That work for you?
LouLou: Wales? What’s in Wales? Yeah, 10 works for me.
Audrey: 10 it is x
Audrey: Lou, he won’t be there, will he?
Sorry isn’t good enough in romance films. Sorry does not cut the romantic mustard. No. At precisely the ninety-five per cent mark of a romance film, one of the characters has to make a Grand Gesture to make up for the aforementioned Big Mistake. These gestures usually include killer lines, dramatic weather, flash mobs, mad dashes through busy places and heartfelt speeches.
And they always, always pay off.
A lesser known cliché, known as “The Dream Denial”, often goes hand in hand with The Grand Gesture. Usually the spurned lover has used their heartbreak to do something amazing with their lives. Maybe bag a dream job, or accept an offer to move abroad. Whatever it is, this dream conflicts with the couple’s ability to be together. But, as long as the Grand Gesture is big enough, the lover is willing to let go of their dreams and fall into their lover’s arms. Who needs dreams when you’ve met the love of your life? Isn’t that the ultimate dream anyway?
I stood outside Flicker for a long time, waves of nostalgia crashing over me. It had only been a month and yet my time here still felt like it was the past. I cradled my silk shirt over my arm and looked up at the posters displaying this week’s current films.
I hadn’t heard of any of them. Oddly enough, I hadn’t watched a film for a while. And, now my A-starred Media coursework was done, I didn’t think I’d be watching romance films for a long time. I took a deep breath, summoning the courage and energy I’d spent the last month building up, then I walked up to the big entrance doors and pushed through them.
The lobby was empty.
“LouLou? I’m here,” I called out. “Bearing highly flammable uniform with a stain I couldn’t seem to wash out.”
Only silence replied. Odd. The bar was empty, the staffroom empty. I glanced up at the rota to see who’d taken over my shifts. Some girl called Lauren. I wrinkled my nose, not liking the feeling of being replaced.
“LouLou?” I called up the stairs, but still nothing. So I pushed through the heavy doors of Screen One.
I wasn’t expecting candles.
“What the hell?” I said, stopping in shock.
And there he was. Him. Harry. Flickering in a hundred tea lights…that smile…that face. I was crying instantly and he stepped through the flames and touched my face. I’d been so strong. I’d managed a whole month. But his touch melted me and I felt powerless.
“Can you just stay?” he begged.
I couldn’t look at him. If I did, my heart would win. So I looked everywhere else but at him. I stared at the candles adorning every available surface, at the giant cinema screen behind him. Rose petals scattered the aisle. Of course he’d used bloody rose petals. Harry’s thumb rubbed my cheek again. He whispered sorry again. My face, the traitor, leaned into his touch. Finally, I looked up at him.
Those eyebrows. He raised one, like he knew. There was still so much longing and love there.
“Please?”
I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what the “right” answer was. If there even was one. Oh God, I’d missed him. Just his smell, now, filled me up whole, made everything feel right. His touch, him, he felt so right. He was so right. But what he had done…
“Audrey? It’s less than ten minutes, I promise. Then you can go.”
I looked up into his eyes, knowing that, by doing so, I was surrendering. Somehow I was smiling. “What will take less than ten minutes?”
His grin grew wider, his ego filling in the gaps inside of me. “Take a seat.”
I slowly cottoned on as he led me to one of the best seats in the cinema. Middle. Aisle. Best view. He sat me down. Then ran down through the ocean of candles and came back cradling a giant cardboard box of popcorn. “With extra cinnamon dust!” he exclaimed.
I took it, our fingers brushing, the feeling short-circuiting the section of my brain marked Sense.
“Please, just, stay here,” he said.
Then he was off through the candles again, leaping over them with his spindly legs, racing up the stairs. I heard the doors close behind me. I was alone, surrounded by flickering light, clutching overpriced popcorn, wondering what the hell was going on and why I was putting up with it when the screen flickered into life and then…then I got it.
A fake film certification popped up, glowing green. It was rated 12A. The title: The Apology. A warning underneath. May contain some cheesy scenes that cynical viewers will find distressing.
Because Harry had made me a movie. And there he was. On the screen. Filling it with his teeth and charm. Beaming across the cinema in a pool of yellow light. He held up a stack of giant white cards in front of him and Jeff Buckley’s “Hallelujah” started from the speakers. Harry on the screen lifted up a stack of handwritten signs – just like that scene with Keira Knightley in Love Actually.
Audrey, the first sign read as the song floated around the candle-filled cinema.
Harry pulled another page to the front. I am so sorry I hurt you.
And another. I will never stop being sorry.
And it will never happen again.
Tears poured down my face, the popcorn lay forgotten on my lap.
I know you’ve had to watch a lot of romance films recently.
He winked as he pulled another sheet of card forward. And I know you’re not a fan.
But I thought maybe…
…hopefully…
I could use them to prove to you how much I love you.
Because I really do love you.
He looked right down the camera lens, smiling with so much pride. And here’s the proof.
The music faded out and then faded into “Kissing You” by Des’ree. I knew that song because…because…
Because Harry’s face was now much bigger on screen and he was staring at me through a fish tank. Just like in Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juliet. I say “fish tank”, but he had to be in the London Aquarium or something because an actual shark floated in front of him and he jumped and I found myself laughing through my tears. Then it cut out again, to a shot set up in a dance studio, the walls lined with mirrors. Harry now stood, head down, in the middle of the wooden floor. And then “(I’ve Had) The Time Of My Life” came on and Harry launched into the beginning of the Dirty Dancing finale dance. He was terrible. My mouth dropped as he spun and leaped around the studio, hardly keeping in time, but the steps were roughly the same as the film’s. And, when it couldn’t get any more surreal, LouLou’s Mohawk appeared. She floated up in the corner of the screen, cradling a giant watermelon over her head with the words He’s sorry written across it, winked into the camera, then floated back down again… We cut away. This time Harry was in his flat with LouLou and all the guys. Everyone wearing party hats. I felt instantly ill as I looked for Rosie but she wasn’t there and my stomach relaxed.
