One rotten ingredient could spoil a pot of stew.
Amber felt like an overly ripe banana, one that was melting into poison as she nestled the bottle of beer in her hands. She didn't want to spoil their night, nor did she want to act on the emotions that felt too thick and too controlling. It roared in her making her feel unlike herself. She could do things she would regret in this state, her insides so ugly and vile that she could not recognise herself.
Their news was big.
The formation of stairs in a bleak void of depression. Fire in frost. Stars in the dark. The money, vital blood for expansion, was just not enough for more. One music video featuring the main track, beautifully made and artfully crafted was a million dollars. A tour, they'd counted tearful and depressed, could be a million a day on the road. Budget blown out of the water with a single spark of firework and mist.
And they would be fucked if it crashed, the money was guaranteed by fans, but profit? They wouldn't be able to cope with it. Doing it themselves with the company that they'd hastily founded, was as good as dumping 30 million into a casino. Too risky, they had said, as they stared at her back, a representative of their family unit.
Family over dreams.
And now they had the possible capital to do it from the person she'd hated for years.
She couldn't empathize with the situation as well as her soulmates, uneducated in the realm of music and industry. So Amber had become the prickly end of an ungrateful cactus, seething in her lack of sympathy and appreciation towards what Claudia had done for them.
She knew that in this state a single defiant 'no' from a soulmate would send her hissing like a cat and fuming in betrayal. God, she'd learnt the hard way what saying shit based on heavy emotions could do to you. And she'd been on the receiving end of the wronged.
She would never repeat it.
So Amber allowed the emotions to boil at low heat in her chest, burying her head into their arms and forgetting about the situation. She refused to let it hurt her, and she refused to let it spoil their day. She would simply be happy even with the shit life dumped over her head. Although, the information did threaten to spill when Casper had pulled her aside.
The concern thrumming in his body all night was a pre-empt to his questions.
What did they say? He'd whispered, brushing back the curls that spilt down her shoulders, length determined by the time they had spent together. Are you okay? He offered after a while, rubbing her shoulder before pulling her into a hug. Her chest lurched, his warmth squeezing tears from her eyes.
I'm fine. I'll tell you about it soon with the others. That was what she'd said, taking one hard sniff to reign in the frustrated tears. They need to know too, everything... She pretended all was alright by bonking her head on his man boobs, it turned him red when she nuzzled them for fun. And the sight of him, cheeks that were a faint dust of red drew her thoughts away from the darkness. There's too much to explain, let's just go to bed.
You could text me instead? He suggested. It might be easier.
She'd smiled. Just need some time to process, I'll let you know when my computer-she'd tapped her brain-has finished downloading this information. He paused and sighed, pressing his lips against her hair.
I'm sorry love…
His eyes had a sheen in them, one that quivered and wavered. The floating appearance of a broken man who'd been strong for too long. He appeared in the soft light of their Himalayan salt lamp, a halo of light upon brunette curls. And she fell deep into those eyes that seemed to wield bottomless gravity. Time stopped briefly as their hearts pounded in sync to an unknown beat.
Thank you for being so strong.
She didn't sleep that night, her eyes wide open as she stared up at the ridiculous painting that Sieon had given her—Artistic beings that told her to just fuck her soulmates raw and forget. She groaned, pressing her palms to her eyes. Fucking them raw would also mean a child, a child for that old lady. And she considered it. She dared to consider it.
Because Amber didn't want a child. Not now…It wouldn't mean anything to her now.
Don't tell them. Claudia's voice whispered. Don't tell them. Crazy Grandmother echoed. She'd snorted as she turned over to brush Hikaru's hair from his eyes, creamy cheeks squished as his eyes darted in his sleep. Peaceful.
She'd turned, her gaze dropping over Ezra, the dark eye bags, the downturned lips. The stress that was etched into each frown; work had robbed his sleep, consuming his mind even in his dreams. The ache flashed tight in her chest, and her emotions quelled as her body understood the quest to place the needs of others over her own.
She was going to tell them eventually. Fuck the rich people, they didn't control her life. Of course, she was going to fucking tell them when they were all ready. She just needed some time to think. She needed time to feel.
But there didn't seem to be a good time or a right time with her soulmates the next day. They were rushing about busy with the tour. She loves them; she was so deeply in love that she hated ruining their day, hated seeing them worry and stress over both work and home life. She knew how it felt like to have to be productive and yet be burning with the need to resolve a situation at home. And she'd hated it, so she wouldn't give them that experience too.
And the same happened for the next. And the next.
She'd woken up to an empty house; jumped awake when her alarm rang, late for class; found herself waist-deep in a long-overdue date with Sieon and Oliver. A pairing that brought her to the amusement park and insisted they had to ride everything fifteen times. That should have been a good time if she hadn't been so damn happy at the park. She'd even forgotten the whole damn thing that night, exhaustion rippling in the ache of her legs.
It was so fucking easy to be happy with her soulmates.