Lock and key

Scarlett leaned against the chair outside the café, cigarette dangling between her painted red nails. The old couple sitting behind her sniffed disdainfully, and she rolled her eyes. It was probably because her entire body was inked in tattoos until you couldn’t even find a clean spot. She twirled her necklace with her other hand, playing around with the lock at the end of it. She checked the clock on a nearby wall. It was 8:15. She was going to be late for work if she didn’t leave soon. For a second, she pondered on staying at the café for a while longer, as she was exhausted after a long week. No, she couldn’t do that. She loved her job as an art director. With a sigh, she threw her cigarette into the glass of milk in front of her, causing a gasp from the old couple. She didn’t even like milk. Scarlett stood up and was about to walk away when something made her eyes widen.

…

Isabelle looked in the mirror and even though she’d already ironed her white dress yesterday, and this morning for good measure, she still smoothed it down by habit. She frowned at the strand of blonde hair coming loose from her bun, and decided to tuck it behind her ear rather than redo her hair again. She didn’t have time for that. She slipped on a silver bracelet, then substituted it for a pink one, but finally settled on a rose gold one. Her alarm started beeping from her bedroom.

“Oh dear,” she murmured. “I knew I should have woken up earlier to get ready.”

Isabelle quickly put on a pair of beige heels and put the folded laundry on the couch back into her closet before rushing out the door, locking it with the key hanging on the end of her necklace. She didn’t have time for breakfast, so she brought some cookies along with her and ate them on the way to work. She stared at her feet, wondering if she had picked the right heels to match her outfit, and was in such a state that she didn’t notice a burly man in a black hoodie walking straight to her until he was inches away.

She quickly took a step to the side, letting him pass, but he stopped right in front of her, and she could feel his breath on her face. She scrunched her nose at the smell of cigarettes, and moved backwards so that the stench would not linger on her clothes.

“Give me your purse,” the man growled, staring down at her.

“W-what?” Isabelle asked, taken aback. She quickly looked around, but the street was empty.

“Give it to me or else,” he repeated again, his eyebrows knitted together in a frown.

“I-I can’t,” she replied, hating the tremble in her voice and the shaking of her legs. She could hear the bustle of the city just around the corner. If only she could just move a little, someone would see her and help.

“I’ll count to five and if I don’t have it in my hands by then, you won’t have hands,” The man warned, inching closer.

Isabelle leaned on one leg, stretching the other out in hopes that someone could see it.

“Five…”

Maybe it wasn’t so bad. Her job as a fashion stylist paid well, and she didn’t need the two hundred dollars in her purse.

“Four…”

Yes, yes, the money didn’t matter. But there was something else that she couldn’t lose.

“Three…”

Perhaps she could take the money out and hand it over. Yes, this man only cared about the money…but what if he thought she was hiding the purse because it was worth a lot of money?

“Two…”

She was better off risking it and running. She could run in heels. What if he catched her before she escaped? She could scream. What if he hurt her for screaming?

“One.”

Isabelle froze to the spot, terrified and unable to move. The burly man lifted his fist and she shielded her face behind her arms, bracing herself for the impact. It never came. Isabelle peeked out from behind her arms and gasped. The man was pinned to the wall by a girl half a head shorter than him. She was gripping his collar, nearly lifting him up into the air, choking him. Isabelle’s eyes started to widen as she took in her tattoo-covered body, her black hair streaked with red, and…and…the necklace that swung around her neck as she wrestled with the man. Dangling from the end of it, glinting under the blazing sun, was a lock.

“Scarlett?” she asked softly.

…

(A FEW YEARS AGO)

Isabelle walked across the school corridor, looking down at the pile of books in her arms, checking the titles. She wasn’t paying attention to where she was going, and bumped into something that sent her sprawling on the floor, her books flying out of her hands. She heard a burst of laughter and she scrambled to her feet, blushing furiously.

“Why don’t you get yourself a pair of eyes that can actually watch where they’re going?” said a loud and sharp voice.

Isabelle looked up, and saw a girl with long red hair and a pinched face.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, and bent down to pick up her books, only to have them kicked away from her.

“What a loser,” the girl sneered before walking away with her head in the air.

Isabelle blinked back tears. This wasn’t her best day. She had forgotten to wake up earlier to study for her test, and she didn’t know how to do half the questions. She’d learnt from that experience and decided to study earlier for her history quiz, hence the books all over the floor. Isabelle picked them up and hid herself behind a few lockers, crying quietly so that no one could hear.

Suddenly, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She jumped and wiped her tears before turning around. A girl with black hair looked back at her with concern in her eyes.

“Hey pretty girl, why are you crying? Which horrible, selfish person hurt you? Tell me and I’ll go beat them up for you,” she said with a small smile.

Isabelle sniffed and muttered “I just had a bad day.”

“Aw, it’ll be alright,” the girl said, swinging her arm around Isabelle’s shoulder. “You want to ditch school with me? That’s what I do when I’m fed up.”  

Isabelle stiffened and looked at her in shock.

“No!” She gasped, horrified. “Education is important, no matter how hard it gets sometimes!”

“Ah, I see you’re a goody-two-shoes,” the girl commented. Then, seeing Isabelle’s offended expression, she hastily said “No, I didn’t mean it in a bad way! Alright, alright, I won’t ditch. Come on, let’s get to class.”

She stood up, pulling Isabelle up with her.

“I have Literature today. You?”

“Chemistry.”

“Right, I’ll see you around then,” the girl said, smiling. She patted Isabelle’s back and added “Chin up, okay? Don’t worry your pretty little mind. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Isabelle nodded, and the girl started walking away, flipping her hair behind her shoulder.

“Hey, wait!” Isabelle called out, and she turned around. “What’s your name?”

The girl smiled, her brown eyes kind and twinkling.

“Scarlett.”

…

With one last push, the man fell to a heap on the floor, quickly scrambled up, and ran off into the distance. The girl turned around, and Isabelle tilted her head.

“Hi,” Scarlett said with a hint of awkwardness.

“W-what are you doing here? I thought you stayed in England to be a doctor,” Isabelle asked. She could feel the emotion rising inside of her and she fought to keep it down.

“Things change,” Scarlett shrugged nonchalantly.

“Well, why didn’t you tell me you were in New York? We could have lived together like old times. And…and…didn’t you promise we would keep in touch? All this time I thought you were just too busy, but I guess you’re not,” Isabelle said, tears starting to build up in her eyes. She would not cry in front of Scarlett. She wouldn’t.

“I am. I should get to work now,” Scarlett replied, and turned away.

“You’re just going to leave?” Isabelle asked, her voice rising. “We are…we were best friends, Scar.”

…

Scarlett felt a pang in her heart when she heard her old nickname. She shouldn’t have done this. She shouldn’t have walked closer to investigate the beige heels she spotted around the corner. They just looked so familiar…

The last time she saw Isabelle seemed so very long ago. They were inseparable at school in England, and they did everything together. It was heartbreaking for her when Isabelle decided she wanted to go to New York and study fashion, but she respected her friend’s choice. Scarlett’s parents wanted her to stay in England to study to become a doctor, so that’s what she did, for two months. It just didn’t feel right. She’d find herself turning around to borrow a pen from Isabelle, only to find a stranger sitting in the seat next to her. She’d find herself buying a glass of milk every morning, simply because Isabelle used to dip her cookies in it. She did still call Isabelle, but it didn’t feel the same. There was a time difference, and Isabelle seemed to have less and less time for her as the days passed by.

That was why Scarlett decided to go to New York, to surprise Isabelle. However, she’d found an amazing art university here, and then she’d gotten the opportunity to become an art director that she just couldn’t miss. Her schedule was so busy that her best friend was the last thing on her mind. Perhaps that was why the universe decided to make her bump into her old best friend, to remind her why she got here in the first place.

Scarlett turned back to Isabelle. There were so many memories in her ocean blue eyes.

“What do you do nowadays?” she asked.

“I’m a fashion stylist,” Isabelle said quietly. “You?”

“Art director,” Scarlett replied.

Isabelle raised her eyebrows.

“So you decided to pursue your passion in art after all?” she questioned, astonished.

“I…um…I have you to thank for that, actually,” Scarlett mumbled, leaning against the wall and looking down at the floor. “If I hadn’t come to New York to find you, I wouldn’t have found a great art university.”

“Well, I have you to thank for my life, too,” Isabelle answered.

Scarlett looked up sharply.

“You taught me that I had to work hard to get what I wanted, no matter how ridiculous it was,” Isabelle said, and pointed at her heels. “These shoes…they were the ones you bought for me on my 16th birthday. They were so expensive, and I thought I would never ever have them, but that didn’t stop me from pausing on the way to school just to stare wistfully at them through the shop window. Then, you started working even harder on your paintings all of a sudden. I remember waking up at 3 am to get a cup of tea and finding you still painting. I thought it was strange until I realized that you were selling your paintings to get enough money buy these shoes for me. So that’s what made me decide to come all the way to New York to study.”

Isabelle blinked back tears, looking away.

“I’m sorry,” Scarlett said softly, breaking the silence.

“For what?” Isabelle asked, her voice catching in her throat.

Scarlett paused, before opening her mouth to speak again.

“For growing apart.”

There was another long pause, and Scarlett stopped leaning against the wall and put something into Isabelle’s hands.

“Here, this belongs to-” she stopped and looked at the white purse she had just handed over. “You kept it.”

“It’s a pretty purse,” Isabelle shrugged, tracing the black cursive letters on it that spelled out “Best”. A tear slid down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away.

Scarlett fumbled around in her bag and pulled out her own purse, black in color. She turned it around to show Isabelle the white cursive letters written across, spelling out “Friends”.

…

Isabelle swallowed hard to get the lump out of her throat as she looked at the purse in Scarlett’s hands.

“Well, I need to get to work. Goodbye,” Scarlett said, putting the purse back in her bag and walking away.

Isabelle let out a choked sob and slumped against the wall, crying. This was it. She should have known that a long distance would take a toll on their friendship. They’d both gone through so much together, it was hard to believe that they’d grown apart. It was hard to believe that they could survive without one another. And it was the hardest, and most painful, to believe that after everything, this was goodbye. Scarlett hadn’t even wanted to keep in touch. Tears streamed down Isabelle’s face. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t cry, but she couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Suddenly, she felt a tap on her shoulder, and she wiped her tears before turning around. Her eyes grew wide as she saw Scarlett standing in front of her.

“Hey pretty girl, why are you crying? Which horrible, selfish person hurt you? Tell me and I’ll go beat them up for you,” she said with a small smirk.

Isabelle let out an involuntary giggle and stepped forward into Scarlett’s arms.

“It was a girl named Scarlett,” she spoke into her best friend’s shoulder, her voice muffled. “We used to be friends, and then we grew apart.”

“My, that’s terrible! My name’s Scarlett too. How ‘bout I be your best friend instead? I bet I’ll be a much better friend than her,” Scarlett smiled.

“That would be wonderful,” Isabelle laughed.

“I have some work to do, I’m afraid, but let’s meet up at 7 for dinner?” Scarlett suggested, slightly nervously, as if she was afraid of her answer.

“Sure,” Isabelle replied, beaming.