Page 95 of House of Bass

I went underneath, closing my eyes with a smile on my face, letting the water consume me but I overestimated just how much my lungs could take. Everything went black and the next time I opened my eyes, I saw Arden. He stood next to a weeping Devon, which was the last time I’d ever seen her cry, looking scared out of his mind. His eyes were so wide and bloodshot, it was probably the most afraid I had ever seen him at the time. Maybe more than when a spider had crawled on him a couple years before, he has arachnophobia. Which was silly, spiders are cute.

“Did I win?” I coughed out, my throat ragged and unable to speak.

“Don’t talk. You shouldn’t,” he said, vibrating with anger. I finally noticed that everyone was watching me and I wanted to crawl into him, their faces were too much. The disappointment and worry on my parents’ face was seared into my brain forever.

That day seems to pop into my head as I submerge in the bath. I know how to hold my breath for longer now, I have a personal record of eight minutes. Swimming is a perfect exercise for ballet and I like being underwater despite what happened that day.

There is something wrong. I can feel myself crumbling and losing pieces of myself day by day. Somehow, it feels worse than back in secondary school. The weight of the world feels like it’ll drop on my shoulders and I struggle to repeat the words to anyone. Bass’ don’t crumble. We aren’t weak. We are the best.

Yet, everyday I want to peel my skin apart, to stop the emptiness cinched to my chest. It is there like a reminder every time. I can’t tell exactly what triggered it; my father? MJ? Or is it just me?

I had once seen the quote ‘A mermaid has no tears and therefore she suffers more.’ Maybe it explained why I liked being underwater so much, I think I cried everyday but the tears weren’t visible to anyone. Destined to live a life of internal suffering that no one would ever fix.

In the midst of my wallowing, I had closed my eyes. Therefore, when I am pulled up from the bath aggressively. Harsh taps to the face has my eyes sluggishly peeled itself open, taking in the situation at hand. A wide eyed Arden, frantic. His hair is in disarray, flopping forward because it is drenched in water, much like his suit. He keeps asking me if I’m okay, his palms cradling both sides of my face

It feels like deja vu.

A faint laugh left my wet lips.

“Is this funny to you?” His voice is strangely calm, he is angry. I shake my head.

He is still holding me, perhaps scared I’ll plunge myself back under. “I’m fine,” I say it so many times, I am hoping one day I will actually start to feel that. The water has started to cool and it is much colder than I’d like.

Arden looks at the bathtub, which is the size of a small pool then back to me. His breathing finally starts to slow back to normal, he searches my face and a realisation sets in. “You did that on purpose.”

I slowly try to detach myself from his grasp but he refuses to let go. He presses, “Tell me you didn’t do that on purpose.”

My throat feels a little hoarse but I manage to get out, “I didn’t.”

He doesn’t believe me.

“What the fuck is wrong you?” he says sharply, finally releasing me from his hold. He leans back against the wall, looking at me with disbelief on his face.

I can’t stand it. The way he is looking at me. It is like a sting to the chest, so I look away. Then I get up, peeling off my wet dress on to the floor, naked as the day I was born. I leave him sitting there, leaving a trail of water dripping behind me.

✧✧✧

“Get dressed, we’re going out. And don’t even think about saying no, you don’t get a choice.”

I shrug.

Within thirty minutes we are both in fresh clothing, much more casual than we’d ever usually be in. Both of us are in jeans and matching polo shirts. All black. We look like a couple in mourning, it is very drab.

He walks ahead of me on the phone to someone as I trail behind, hushed rapid voices from both ends. Once we enter the car, I ask.

“Who were you on the phone to?”

“The person who called me, frantic, about your well-being. Your sister.”

My eyes pinch together, whether it is in exhaustion or shame or maybe both, I can’t tell. Neither of us utter a word for the duration of the ride.

We arrive at our location after an hour or so, a secluded building situated in the middle of nowhere, just outside of London, near Reading. There is a large black gate with security that accompanies the building. If it isn’t for the greenhouse I can see, I would've been certain we were on a military base.

Arden speaks to the security out front who immediately knows who he is, which has my brows furrowing even further than before. I can’t seem to figure out what we are doing here.

The gates open and we drive in, the second we step out of the car I can’t hold my tongue anymore. “Not to act paranoid that you’re luring me into some dodgy corner to kill me but what are we doing here?”

“You’ll see.”