How Long Before We Fall In Love ?

"Fuck Claire."

Drew seethed through her teeth as she raged towards her car. Her heart hammered in her chest, loud enough to echo in her ears like a siren's melody, compelling her whole being in pursuit of that woman.

"That selfish, treacherous, arseholy little shite of a woman," Drew grumbled under her breath as she revved her engine and propelled her car into speed. She knew that address like the back of her back. She knew the woman like the front of her teeth. Crooked and blemished.

Why did it have to be Claire again? It could have been anyone else — it would have made so much more sense. But no! It had to be the serial snatcher from her nightmares.

"Ugh," Drew snapped as she hit a red light and begrudgingly halted to a stop. In that moment, her phone rang and she connected it to the car's speaker.

"Madam! The one time! The one time I do not accompany you, you end up trending online! Are you kidding me? At least the first tag is good, it is #Florenceforthewin but do you know what the most clicked-on post is?? It is about you intimidating a waitress! And you made up for it by writing them a program? What the actual hell?!"

The lights turned green and Drew pressed the accelerator with the passion of a touch starved lover.

"Are you listening to me? Where are you going? You're speeding, Drew! Are you okay?!"

"Yes, yes, I am sorry, I am fine, just wait for me. I'm making a little round trip to Hillview," Drew explained.

"Hillview? Why Hillview? You have no business in Hillview." Aurora's words took a stern edge towards the end.

"Oh! I thought I did not but a certain someone just cannot seem to get over me. I'll just gnaw the flesh off her bones and be done in a jiffy. Don't you worry," Drew mused with a maniacal glint in her eye. Before Aurora could get any cautionary words in, Drew hung up and zoomed past the dense skyscrapers and sparse greenery.

Uphill resided the Hillview Heights, a gated colony. It was established around the late 90s by cutting off the tallest mountain of the nation so that filthy rich could overlook the filth beneath them.

Behind the silver gates was a posh neighbourhood with seemingly cozy cottages spanning over hundreds of acres, all encircling the biggest local park — a hotspot for socialization. Around the outskirts, Hillview Heights boasted its own Church as well as a Private Academy.

It was a place where dwelled generational wealth and ease of life. Where the rich could raise rich, live with the rich, get richer and rot in their riches.

A place where Drew had grown up in, as the only poor household, the blot of Hillview Heights, living in the basement of one of the richest families famed for their philanthropic pursuits — The Claudius'.

Their cottage mansion was third most nearest house to the park, an enviable asset to all but the other two nearest ones. Its stone walls, now covered in ivy, were made out of the rubble of the hill and stood as new as Drew remembered from her childhood. The steeply pitched roofs were darkened by the weather and not as reachable to the cleaning staff as the walls, ornate chimneys and imperial windows evoked a regal glow special only to the Claudius Household.



Drew halted her car at the ivory gate and banged its door shut. Her feet beelined towards the entrance and a latent instinct urged her hands to grab the metal bars and climb over. All doors in Hillview were a fancy excuse of protection and a mere flashy landmark to ascertain one's territory — for the Rich did not barge through front doors when thieving.

Surrounding the mansion were neatly trimmed hedges over which Drew jumped in order to get inside, "Just like the old times." Fresh grass scrunched under her feet as she made her way to the stone pathway lined with dandelions.

Her steps halted at the grand staircase which lead the path into the main house, adorned with freshly painted stone pillars and potted plants. If Drew had the leisure to search, one of those potted plants would find Claire and her name engraved with a heart in between.

"Pathetic," she whispered to herself as she walked up the stairs and banged her fist on the carved wooden door, ignoring the doorbell on the wall beside. Upon banging thrice, Drew merely unlocked the door with a twist on the knob and entered.

"CLAIRE FREAKIN DAME CLAUDIUS. WHERE ARE YOU, YOU FILTHY LITTLE RAT?! COME OUT! YOU WANNA PLAY? COME FREAKIN SAY IT TO MY FACE YOU LITTLE —"

"Madam! Who are you and what are you doing here?! This is clearly trespassing!!"

One of the maids rushed to the foyer, distress laced all over her frowning face.

"I am here to find your petty arsed mistress and I shall not be moving without her sorry arse all whacked—woah, woah, what are you doing?! Do you even know me?!"

Two maids rushed to grab Drew by her arms and began dragging her out of the foyer.

"Please respect the sanctity of this household or we shall call the cops on you!" The maid exclaimed.

"I will respect it when you have fuc—" Drew twisted herself out of the deathly grasp with full intention to flood the maids' ears with sailor swears when a familiar knock of walking stick caught her off guard.

Her lips pursed upon instinct and she felt herself stand straighter and square her shoulders as the familiar silhouette rounded the corner. Like always, it was the mahogany walking stick that came into perspective before the wrinkled body of the elderly who supported herself by it.

"What is this ruckus all about?!" Lady Serine Claudius asked, her voice shaky with age yet authoritative in demeanour.

"We have a trespasser, m'lady, we were just handling it," the maid replied, arched into a right angled bow.

Though, Lady Serine did not register a word for her eyes were fixated on the familiar silhouette in front. "Oh my, dear heavens, is that you, Dreumary?" Her question threatened curiosity and her feet followed it with much haste.

Drew walked forward, meeting Lady Serine halfway. She stood right at the stick's edge, gulping, she replied, "That would be me, the one you abandoned with such fervour, ha ha," Drew gasped, awkwardly.

"Oh, child," Lady Serine stepped forward and pulled Drew into a hug.

As if thrust into a nostalgia loop, tears flooded in Drew's eyes. The moment was straight out of her childhood and her hug was warm and squishy. Lady Serine's saggy hand patted her back firmly as if indicating that everything would be fine, in time, as long as she was around.

"Come eat with me, the meal is warm and we have the soup you adore," Lady Serine whispered in her ear before pulling back, "I have heard big things about you, Dreumary — or should I call you Drew now?" She laughed.

Drew cursed internally. Why was she such a sucker for nostalgia?

"You can call me anything and I'll eat some other day, um, is Claire home?" Drew asked. She looked around only to find the maids gone and the air wooshing through empty rooms like death on parole.

"She is in the States, did you not know? She's been there for a while now," Lady Serine sighed and patted Drew's back, "Come now, do this cruel old lady a favour and eat with me. My table is too cold without the warmth of your gaze."

She remembered.

A wind chime jingled as soon as the front door was opened and a tall man entered with a scrawny child in tow. An elderly woman greeted their arrival with a rich smile of her own. Behind her silken robes was another child, peeking glances at the new arrival.

"Now Claire, don't be shy, did you not want a sister? Meet, little Mary, treat her as your own, will you?" The elderly woman urged the child behind her to come out and meet the child accompanied by the man.

"Yes Mary, meet Madam Claire, you always wanted friends, did you not?" The man patted the girl's head and brought her forward, "Hold out a hand, say a kind word," he suggested.

The scrawny little girl held out a lanky hand and greeted, "Hello, I am Mary. I thank you for having me. Both of you are very pretty." A beaded bracelet jingled around her wrist and caught the other child's attention.

She stepped forward and pointed at the pink beads, "That is very pretty," she stated and stared at child, expectantly.

"Ah, thank you, my mum made it—uh, do you want it? Here," Drew took off the bracelet and held it out on her hand.

Claire placed her hand over Drew's, with the bracelet in between, and smiled, "Hello, I am Claire! Nice to meet you!" She tilted her head and swiped the bracelet from Drew's palm. "It is very pretty!" She exclaimed as she rolled it down her milky wrist, "Thank you."

Drew pursed her lips and smiled, "You're welcome."

"Your child is very kind for her age," Lady Serine stated as eyed the exchange.

"She is still learning," Drew's father said while patting her head.

"Would you join us for lunch, little Mary?" Lady Serine asked with her kind eyes fixated at Drew.

Drew shook her head and hands, "No no, I don't want to trouble," she gulped and denied with all of her body.

"You wouldn't be a trouble, join us. The table is too cold without your warm gaze."

The food was warm, the chair was cushiony and Lady Serine was smiling at her as if the last five years never happened. Her brown ringlets had grown silver over time, yet they were sleek in framing her pointy face.

"About what happened —"

"Claire hasn't been home in two years. I have been alone all this while but this award season gives me hope. She will return for Queri's Solo Trailblazer whatever award," Lady Serine said with a smile.

Drew's grip tightened on her spoon.

Yet again, the Claudius Household was gaining something from her. Yet again, in her misery, there was their mirth. Yet again, they would have the last laugh.

The familiar table on which she had had many a lunches with Claire beside her and Mr. and Mrs. Claudius in front, under very similar circumstances, where she was constantly trying to prove herself useful, by all means. Maybe it was love that used to diminish the feeling of loss. Maybe it was Drew's naiveity that made these gestures feel her accepted.

Though, whatever filter had been removed had left an ugly colour to the world around her.

Drew settled back and dropped her spoon. "What about Aldric? Has he been running Claire's thing?" She demanded.

"Huh?" Lady Serine looked up, mid bite, "Aldric? That boy, I don't think I have seen him for a while now. I don't know, is he coming back to support Claire?"

Drew pushed her right lip-end into a wannabe smile. "I dunno, maybe, why the heck not, why would I know? Considering you all cut me off like the appendix," she grumbled.

"Oh the soup is getting colder!" Lady Serine clapped her hands and a bunch of maids rushed into the dining room. "Bring some more warm soup for our Drew, will you? Pack some as well."

"Yes madam," the maid curtsied and left.

Drew understood that she would get no answers here so, with a dejected breath, she pushed herself up and asked, "May I be excused?" before walking out of the room.

Surely, one or all were lying and Drew wasn't a person to sit and play pretend in some else's game.