Limerence (Famous Young Things): Chapter 36

The sound of my door being pounded with a battering ram is what wakes me. I’d barely slept. I’d been drinking, but only enough for a headache and not a blackout. I’d tossed and turned and overthought until everything felt much, much worse. The headache was now splitting my skull in half and my mouth was dry as driftwood.

“Open the fucking door, Savini!” Felix’s voice is ferocious and loud before the banging starts up again. I tug off my sleep mask and gather my wits. Then I haul my ass out of bed towards the noise. I’ve barely got the door unlocked before he’s pushing it open in my face and charging past me into the apartment. I can only assume this is about my ignoring him last night. He hates being ignored, I know that. Which was why I’d done it, though this seems like an overreaction, even for him. I’d taken the night to try and calm down before attempting to talk to him about it because I didn’t trust myself not to act like a jealous asshole. I’d come to the conclusion that I was right to be pissed: he’d lied to me.

I let the front door swing closed and follow him, blinkingly, into the living room as I rub the sleep from my eyes.

“You underhanded, lying piece of shit,” is what he says first.

“Um, okay, I guess, good morning to you as well.”

But then I attempt to process that. How had he got to lying (I’m the liar?) underhanded piece of shit from my ignoring him all night? For some reason, I notice that his hoodie is inside out, the seam of which is clearly a pocket on the front, label quite visible by his hip. So, he’d gotten dressed in that much of a rush to come over here and call me a liar, after what he’d done? My mind is struggling to understand that.

“Why? Why would you do it? You promised me, Nico. You promised me.”

This gets my whole attention. That and the fact that it looks a lot like Felix Taylor-Brooke is about to cry.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about right now?”

“Like fuck you don’t!” he screams and takes a step toward me. “Who did you speak to? Who did you tell? Who!? And don’t lie to me or I will tear you limb from fucking limb.” It looks like he means to, pure violence on his face.

I take a step back and put my hands up. “Felix, calm down. Just, calm down a minute and tell me what the hell’s going on here.”

“You’re telling me to calm down? After what you’ve done? You’re going to ruin his life, no, you’ve already ruined his life! Someone who doesn’t deserve that—someone who has always been there for me—and for what? Because you’re jealous? You’re seriously pathetic, do you know that?!”

My brain, still half asleep, is trying to process the words and put them in a context that makes sense, but it’s a struggle. I think he’s talking about Christian. “Wait, is this about your politician?”

There’s something on my face or in my tone that he doesn’t like, that he likes even less than whatever it is he thinks I’ve done, because his fist curls, and I’m certain he is about to hit me with it.

“You’re going to stand there and lie to my face? At least have the balls to admit it; at least look me in the eye and admit what you’ve done. I’d respect you a little more if you did that.”

I do look him in the eye. Then I say, very calmly, “Felix, I have no clue what’s going on right now. None. I thought you were here at”—I look at my watch—“9:15am to give me shit for ignoring you all night. Which I did because I was pissed, because I saw you with him when you told me you were having dinner with your father. When you lied to me about having dinner with your father. But it’s becoming real obvious that I’m missing something pretty huge here. So, if you want to calm down and tell me what it is you think I’ve done, then maybe we can sort it out.” I’ve no clue what he’s going to do next. He’s still livid, apparently at me, but he’s uncurled his fist, which I take as a good sign.

“Someone told the fucking papers,” he says hotly. “About Christian and me. They have transcripts of our messages and photos. Ones I’ve sent him, ones he’s sent me. Going back years.” He looks like he’s going to be sick. I feel like I’m going to be sick.

“Holy shit.”

“He’s finished. His career is over. Yesterday they wanted him to be prime minister, and next week the entire fucking world is going to know he’s been shagging the party whip’s gay son for years, oh, and yeah, he’s on the board of LBC and so no doubt I’ll be hauled before a disciplinary, too, I guess. So, like, are you happy? Is this what you wanted? All falling nicely into place for you, is it? Did you actually come here to ruin my fucking life? All that shit about wanting to help me and dance with me and… and…” he is crying now, and it is awful to look at. But in the last thirty seconds since he started talking, I’d somehow completely forgotten that he’d been blaming me for this. That this is all something he thinks is down to me.

He thinks I did this?

I look at him and shake my head.

“Felix, this wasn’t me. I didn’t do this, I—”

“You’re a fucking liar!”

Hands out in supplication, I take a step toward him. “Felix, listen to me. Think about this, why would I do this? It makes no sense.”

“Because you’re jealous, because you wanted me to stop seeing him, because you’re fucked in the head!” He stabs a finger angrily at his own head.

I meet his gaze directly. “Yes, okay. I did want that. And let’s say I’m sick with jealousy at the thought of you with him; let’s even say it makes me irrational and pathetic, and that when I saw you with him last night, when I knew you’d lied to my face about seeing him, I came home and wondered what to do about it.”

“And what did you do?” he spits. “Leak what you saw to some snake in the British media, the scum of the actual earth? I mean, I suppose they’re on your level, so it makes sense you—”

“I got drunk,” I say, cutting him off. “Something I haven’t done since Sergio Cina collapsed on a street in Rome and never got back up. Felix, I would never do this to you.” My throat feels thick and my voice wrecked. He stares back at me, pale and shivering. “Tell the whole world something you asked me not to, something I promised you I wouldn’t. Believe what you want about how I feel about you and him, but this hurts you just as much. And I wouldn’t hurt you like this. I wouldn’t ever hurt you like this.”

He blinks and a tear escapes, rolling down his flushed cheek. I want to go to him and wrap my arms around him and tell him that I’ll fix it, but I can’t do that because that would make me a liar.

“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” he says, though he doesn’t sound half as certain anymore. “They have WhatsApp messages, Nico. From my phone!”

“And what, you think I stole them?” I ask, incredulous. “Felix, come on. I’d never do that!”

“Of course you’d say that! So, what, it’s Ava?? Because she’s the only other person who knows. You and her, Christian and Me. If not you, then you’re implying it’s her.”

“No, no I’m not. I don’t think Ava would do that to you,” I say. “But neither would I. Fuck, Felix why is it so hard for you to believe that? To trust me.”

His eyes shimmer with fear and despair, lip trembling. He looks so… young. So lost and young and afraid, and I see myself as a child in him. When I move toward him, he backs off and turns away, bringing a hand up to his face to wipe at his tears angrily. “I don’t know who to fucking trust. I don’t understand how this could happen.” After a long silence he says, “It’s all my fault.”

I shake my head, though he can’t see it. “How is it your fault?”

He turns, shoving a hand into his hair and tugging at his curls. “I pursued him. I wanted him. And I always get what I want,” he says in a mocking tone. “I wouldn’t fucking stop. Christ, the things I did. I dragged him into this and now… he’s going to lose everything. His son will find out… my father…” He goes entirely ashen.

“He’s an adult, Felix. Who should have known better.”

He glares at me. “Known better? What does that even mean? How could he have known this was going to happen?”

“I just mean, if he was so worried about his career, and how this would look if it got out, then he should have thought about that before he started it.” I know how cold it sounds, but right now I’m having a hard time feeling sorry about this man or his career when Felix is breaking apart in front of me. Fuck Christian.

He glares at me. “So, you think a good man deserves to have his life ruined for choosing to be with me?”

Shit. Fuck. “No, fuck, no. That’s not what I meant at all.”

He gives me a withering look and comes toward me.

“That was a good speech, Savini; you almost had me there.” He gives me a cruel but desperately sad smile. “But I don’t buy it. You’re the only person in the world with a single motive and plenty of opportunity to do this, and you know what, maybe you didn’t want to hurt me, maybe you thought I’d brush it off and move on the way I always do with guys I’m fucking. The way I’ll brush you off and move on the second I walk out of this door—but Christian doesn’t deserve this. He’s a good, decent man, and he’s my friend.” The look he gives me then is enough to freeze an entire continent. “And nobody fucks with my friends. Nobody.”

He shoves past me roughly and storms toward the door.

“Felix, wait. Felix—”

The door slams shut behind him.



I shower and dress quickly before taking the tube to his house. He’d not answered any of my calls, each of them being cut off after a single ring. Each of my texts had gone unanswered and unread.

Me:

Felix, I swear to you this wasn’t me.

Please answer the phone.

I’m coming over to your place.

Ava opens the door in a black dressing gown with a hood, the hood pulled up, and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses on her face. She squints as she stares at me.

“Hey, Nico,” she checks.

“Is he here?”

“Um, yeah, he’s still in bed,” she says sleepily. “Come in. Felix!!!” she shouts up the stairs.

“I don’t think…” I peer up the stairs. “Do you mind if I go up and check? He came over to mine a little while ago and he left; I thought he’d come back here.”

“Oh, oh,” says Ava, clearly still half asleep. “Um, I don’t know if he’d want you up there, let me go see. Wait, did you say he was at yours earlier?”

I nod.

“Why?”

I’d not thought this all the way through. Though, I figure she’s going to find out about the press getting a hold of this sooner or later, and since Felix couldn’t exactly hate me any more than he already does…

“The press knows about him and Christian,” I explain.

I watch as all colour drains from Ava’s face. “Shit,” she says, awake all at once, before she turns and bolts upstairs. A moment later she comes back down. “He’s not there.” She lifts her phone from the coffee table and dials. When he doesn’t answer, she curses and begins typing furiously.

“I tried calling him but he’s not picking up. Where would he go?”

Agitated, she starts biting her index fingernail.

“No idea. Wait, why would he come to you about this?”

“He thinks I told them.”

She blinks, visibly confused. “I don’t—what? Why would he think it was you?”

“I caught them. Together. After the gala performance,” I explain. “I promised I would keep it to myself, and I did. I never did this, Ava. This wasn’t me. But somehow he has it in his head that I’ve stolen shit from his phone and sold it to the press.”

She looks horrified. “Why would he think that?”

“Because it wasn’t you and it can’t have been Christian and so who else could it be? No one else knows.” I glance at my phone, hoping. He’s still not read my messages. “Someone must have seen them together, it’s the only thing that makes sense. They’ve seen them and figured it out.”

“Oh, no,” gasps Ava. I glance up, assuming it’s something on her phone, but she has her hand pressed over her mouth as she shakes. “No, he wouldn’t. No…”

“Ava? What is it?”

“Nothing. I need to speak to Felix.” She’s already dialling again and moving towards the stairs. “I need to get dressed.”

“You know, don’t you? Who leaked this, you know.”

“Nico, look, I can’t… I need to find him. I’ll keep calling him. Can you go to LBC, please? He might have gone there, I don’t know…” She looks lost and scared now.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll go look there.” She nods and climbs the stairs to the first floor. “Ava?” She turns, eyes wide and frightened. “He wouldn’t do anything stupid, would he? Like… I don’t know… hurt himself?”

She looks at me like I’m stupid, which is a relief. “No, nothing like that. But if he figures out…” another shake of her head. “Fuck, Nico. We need to find him.”