Trade Mistakes

[Charlotte Williams]

Everything was perfect, every last detail was perfect, right how she wanted it. People around her definitely seemed to be having fun, Charlotte was mingling in amongst that, being sure to greet every guest, find her boyfriend make sure he was handling it well, which he always was, and then continuing her hosting duties. This party had been weeks in the works, there had been the decorations to buy, the right caterer to provide the food, the right playlist, the right outfit. Charlotte was not a spontaneous person and the amount of planning that had gone into this party was more than enough to show that. For the woman it was always about presenting a clean and good image, where not one thing was out of place, where no one could run their finger along a surface and find the smallest spec of dust. But, given how she noted people were enjoying themselves, it felt like she had done right, the conversation stayed light and friendly, she could spot her friends and her boyfriend's friends in amongst the crowd of people gathered. Things with him had continued to be annoying perfect, her parents approved of him far more than she would've ever expected, he was polite, respectful, high society, everything she was supposed to be happy with, but nothing seemed to stop the nagging feeling she had about him, that something just wasn't working about it. Char knew her parents were pushing for her to tie the knot with him settle down, and she knew her mother had brought it up with him, but she didn't want that. Charlotte had gotten out from under their control when she'd finally moved to New Zealand as an adult.

Charlotte brushed such thoughts from her mind, tucking the out of strand of blonde hair that had come out of place, she moved through the crowd, finishing the drink of the champagne in her hand and refilling the drink with one of the recently opened bottles, she took a small sip of the lightly bubbly liquid, savouring the taste and the brief moment of reprise that getting a drink gave her. It was definitely lovely to see all these people that she knew interacting and getting to know one another, and she was so pleased that everyone had followed the invite's instruction and all were formally dressed. She knew that her life was largely made up of formal clothes but it was definitely nice to see everyone dressed so nicely. It was no surprise to her that Sam had made the effort, she'd thought his suit had looked perfect, but her conversation with him had been brief, she didn't know why but she just felt frustrated with him. Perhaps it was the fact that after pushing towards dating new people he was now doing that, she felt oddly jealous in a way she found difficult to describe. Charlotte had really thought by this point in her life, with everything so organised and perfect that she was still being confused by her emotions. She was an emotional person, but she was left clueless half the time currently as to why she was feeling a particular way. Charlotte plastered a smile back on to her face, ignoring her own thoughts and currently confused feelings and rejoining the main party, it definitely seem like all had arrived, the party was in full swing, and the catering was bringing out more of the food. She stepped easily into a conversation with the people closest to her, she was proud of this party, so much had gone into it, and it was turning out as perfectly as she'd wanted it to.
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[Samuel Phillips]

Samuel was a man who prided himself on being respectful to the people he cared about. Respecting their wishes, opinions, intentions and of course their decisions. But the more time he spent around Charlotte and her partner, the more he felt what was left of his ability to be respectful leave him. The mere thought of the man made his skin crawl. Not by any fault of the guy, as he was perfect in the shallow way Sam was acquainted with him, but entirely the fault of Sam himself for refusing to admit his feelings to Charlotte immediately. He was left alone to watch her relationship with him blossom to something more serious, standing idly by with a green monster of jealousy over his head and it was entirely his fault. It caused him nothing but agony that he hadn't confessed, and guilty for feeling something for his friend in the first place. His actions during Charlotte's party that evening were no different to any other event. Sam had spent most the night on the sidelines, sipping repeatedly from whatever form of alcohol was in his glass as he made small talk with Elle and attempted to swallow his feelings. Amid his ever-present jealousy and his incessant need to bury the feelings he had towards his friend, Sam could not help but act like a wallflower, knowing that his place was the sidelines in a party his friend wanted to be perfect. The party meant a lot to Charlotte, it had been in preparation for weeks and was going off without a hitch. He would have ruined it otherwise.

Drinking would usually make for the perfect distraction, lightening Samuel's mood to something uncharacteristically cheerful that would make the night bearable for him and everyone else. But with everything on his mind, the changes in his family, and Charlotte's presence, the alcohol did nothing to cheer him up. It instead made him evermore bitter and brutally honest than he ever wanted to be while in a crowd of people. It was not the kind of impression he wanted to make, but one that was inevitable when every drink he consumed further lowered his inhibitions. The alcohol eventually convinced him to turn towards Elle with a newfound arrogance and laugh as he confessed his intentions to her. Samuel had become all too aware of the fact he was using Elle to forget about Charlotte. Such a fact was only made more obvious as their relationship grew and he continued to constantly use her as both an excuse and a distraction from his problems. He was sure to regret telling Elle the truth the next morning, but in the moment of her reaction he felt nothing but amusement. He downed the last of his drink when she stormed away, unconsciously leaning further on the wall behind him for stability. He then sighed as he felt the small burden that was Elle's presence lift from his shoulders. He was thankful the interaction didn't cause much of a scene but he did notice the confused glances in his direction, although few and far between. Samuel knew that Charlotte would notice sooner or later, and dreaded when that moment would come so he attempted to bury the feeling by ordering another drink from a passing waiter.​

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[Charlotte Williams]

Charlotte had spotted Sam's date leaving, or at least storming away from a certain area of this party but she didn't feel like it was her place to do anything about it, and certainly with so many other people to keep entertained at this party she didn't have the time in her mind to figure out what had happened, but in each conversation it sat in the back of her mind, why it had happened, how wrong the girl had been for her Sam, how Sam might be feeling. But through it all she kept a straight face and kept herself smiling politely at all the guests in the party. It wasn't until half way through the celebration that she had found the time to seek out Sam, but at this point her oh so perfect boyfriend had decided that he felt the deep desire to speak to the crowd. She took her spot next to him, her gaze lingering upon Sam when she'd been about to speak to him. Charlotte loved her partner, or well, she told him that she did, but there was something about him that just hadn't sat right with her since they'd first gone out. It hadn't been like her last relationships which had all been simple and ended just because of her mother.

Charlotte stood alongside him as he congratulated her on the party she'd thrown them, and she played the good host, blushing and looking a little sheepish while she held up her glass to the people around her, her friends, their friends, but her mind could only want to figure out if Elle leaving meant that Sam was no longer seeing any one, not that she had any reason to be jealous with them, with such a perfect boyfriend but she felt it regardless. The woman was pleased when it finally came to an end and she could just raise her glass with all others and just thankfully have it be over, have the night be done. Or at least the important parts of the night, that she really needed to be visible during. And the moment she was able to, Char as polite as ever greeted people as she passed until she spotted Sam and she could tell from the way that he was standing that he'd probably had a few drinks, which wasn't too different from most of the people around him, "Sam?" she questioned, hoping to find out easily what had happened and move beyond it, speaking to him in the same friendly tone she'd used with all these other people around them.
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[Samuel Phillips]

Another drink arrived as quickly as Samuel ordered it, and he was soon cradling the glass in his hand, staring into the liquid. It would make perfect distraction to dull his feelings even further and drown the paranoia of being judged by other guests, despite how little attention they were paying to him, and how little of a distraction his other drinks had been. He brought his hand to the straw in the glass and absent mindedly swirled the liquid around. Using the action as an excuse to avoid eye contact, and finding it far more interesting than the guests around him. Through it all he eventually gathered the courage to look up from the glass but he immediately wished he hadn't when his eyes landed on Charlotte making her way towards him. Their brief greeting upon his arrival had been his fix of her company for the night, expected and welcomed when she had a party to host and many other, more important, prestigious gests to make small talk with, as well as a boyfriend to stand beside. Her approaching him could only mean that she was going to ask about Elle and he was too much of a renegade and far too intoxicated to handle such a heavy conversation when he wanted more than ever to blend into the background.

Samuel swallowed a gulp of air in anticipation, then felt his stomach suddenly flip when attention was called for a toast. He shifted his gaze to the person talking above everyone else, and soon realized that he should have been careful what he wished for. His gaze returned to his drink and he swallowed all of it at once, resisting the urge to crush the glass in his hand and focusing on the burn of the liquid down his throat instead of listening to anything Charlotte's boyfriend had to say. Sam didn't even have a moment to recover from the burning when the toast was deemed over and Charlotte finally approached him. He looked towards her as she said his name but wasted none of his energy keeping up politeness. Not that he had such an ability in his state. "Got a problem, Char?" He responded, voice unintentionally raised and filled with disdain. It was debatable if this was a symptom of the alcohol in his veins, but Sam knew more than anyone it was due to his jealousy. Jealousy once hidden behind people and barriers, now shattered. Jealousy that he no longer cared to hide and in fact, wanted to show now that his breaking point had been reached. Everything else in his life had been turned upside down. Charlotte had been the only thing holding him back but it appeared that she wanted nothing more than to rub everything in his face. His inability to handle feelings, his lack of identity, and now, her partner.

THIS TOOK AGES. i'm sorry.​

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[Charlotte Williams]

Finding Sam had been rather difficult, there were a fair amount of people currently at the part and all of whom wanted to give a few minutes to Charlotte, but she had politely excused herself from each of those conversations as she'd carried on through to where she finally found him, but this had been interrupted by the fact, that her boyfriend chose then to give his speech. When it had finally been over, she had thanked her boyfriend before seeking out Sam, the woman approached him and after saying his name was a little surprised by the tone he returned, she almost visibly recoiled from it, looking with surprise at the man she called her friend. But Charlotte was determined and she approached him a little, looking at his features and noting that he was drunk, or at least a little. She couldn't be that surprised a good number of people within the party were drunk, she had to be more cautious because she was the host but that was the only reason why she likely wasn't in a state closer to him, "No Sam," she assured him, though she couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he did? Charlotte didn't want that to be true, she liked Sam, Sam was her closest friend, she thought everything of him.

Things had been a little more tricky in the last few months, really ever since she'd gotten a boyfriend and told Sam about it, but it didn't make sense in her mind, Sam too had had someone. She didn't understand his outburst or why he'd been a little distant with her lately. Charlotte had always desired to speak with ease with Sam, especially since she had been having issues with her boyfriend. He was a perfect person for her, but things felt incomplete in a way charlotte didn't entirely understand and she really wanted to, and Sam was the person she wanted to talk to about it. But things had been weird, and she couldn't even deny her own frustration towards him that had been completely unexplained when he had gotten a girlfriend. Charlotte didn't know why it was like that, but it was like that. So, instead of probably doing the better thing like just finding some place for Sam to sit, perhaps get some food in him, she decided to return the question, "Do you Sam?" she asked keeping her voice a little quieter so that no one would be able to hear it.
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[Samuel Phillips]

Every instinct in Samuel's body told him to look away from Charlotte, to pretend like she wasn't speaking to him and their conversation wasn't happening entirely while he continued to drink himself to forgetting it all. Yet he kept his eyes on her, watching her features he knew so well recoil at his words and feeling a pang in his chest underneath his anger. Though when the pang subsided it was immediately forgotten and replaced by stronger feelings of anger towards Charlotte, regardless that his suffering and her boyfriend's toast that evening was not her fault. All his feelings, whether they were bad or good seemed to be fixated on her and only escalated with everything she said, or whichever way she moved. He half expected her to simply just know every thought that circled his mind but was too intoxicated at that point to remember such a thing was impossible and that she was his friend, first and foremost, through all his problems and he was supposed to treat her like a friend. He rolled his eyes, finally looking away from her when she asked if he had a problem. "You're asking me if I have a problem?" He returned his gaze to her and frowned. "Are you f*cking daft? Of course, I have a problem! It's me. I am the problem. Everything I do is a problem!" The sarcastic tone and increasing volume of his voice managed to draw more attention than his interaction with Elle though he was too consumed by his jealousy and rage to notice.

If Samuel were still sober, he would have been respectful enough to realize the amount of attention he was drawing to himself, and the undeniable fact he was risking ruining the party Charlotte had been planning for weeks. Her happiness was supposed to matter as much to him as it did to her, but he was instead far from sober, and even further from continuing to care what irrelevant party guests thought of him. They were now as important as a speck of dust for all he cared, insignificant and able to be brushed away like they were nothing compared to the anger coursing through his body. Samuel shook his head and looked away from Charlotte again, standing up from the wall and adjusting the jacket of his suit as he looked around the room to notice the many eyes on him that were silently judging his every move. "Even me being here is a problem." He said, voice suddenly more subdued when how out of place he was in a party filled with aristocrats began to dawn on him. "I'm out of here." He threw his empty glass to the floor, causing it to shatter into pieces. He then walked past Charlotte to the bar, picked up a newly opened bottle of champagne and ignored the waiter that had been pouring drinks from bottle before he stormed out of the room to venture into the quiet, unoccupied section of the house the party was being held in. The thumping of his heartbeat and the clicking of his shoes on the marble floor overtook Samuel's senses as he searched for an empty room, mind on overdrive in a mix of anger and adrenaline. When he found one at the furthest end of the house he slammed the door behind him, sinking to the floor against the wall and holding his head back while he brought the bottle of champagne to his lips and drank. His emotions were truly at their boiling point and he was entirely at the end of his limits, the toast that night being the straw to break the camel's back, making him willing to do anything and everything he knew he would regret later but did not care to give a second thought to while in such an inebriated and overwhelmed state.​

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[Charlotte Williams]

Charlotte was a little surprised by his reaction, she knew he was drunk but that wasn't really an excuse for what he was doing and she wasn't entirely sure why he was even being like this, the woman was even more confused when he continued when he spoke in such a tone, calling her daft and explaining that he was the problem, but Charlotte didn't understand what was this about, why was he acting like this, sure she knew that things between them hadn't exactly been plain sailing in a while, his weirdness towards her, and then her anger, her unfound anger towards him, it didn't explain it and she was thoroughly confused about what he meant, "How?" she tried to push, but she didn't think she would get an explanation, not with him in this state, since he was so drunk and very clearly acting out. The concern about ruining the party and making a scene didn't even cross Charlotte's mind as he watched him. It wasn't what she cared about, mostly because Sam was one of the few friends that she had, and he never cared about her over formality and she cared more about him than this silly party.

It was hardly surprising to the blonde that he was barely able to hold her gaze, she followed where he was now heading, saying that even him at the party was a problem and she bit back telling him that he was the only person she would've liked at this party. And the shattering of the glass seemed to still the entire party, but it didn't seem like Sam had noticed at all, he was too drunk to really care about the scene he was causing and all she could be concerned about was following the man out of the room where he seemed to be heading for the jackets. She didn't know what he was doing, why he was acting like this, why he was choosing to leave, just she didn't understand, she wanted to know what he was doing so she just followed him, following him into the room at the end of the hallway that he picked to go into. She closed the door behind her and noted him sitting on the floor, having apparently sunk down. The woman bent down to his level, which was difficult in her heels and her formal clothes. But, nonetheless for Sam it was what she was willing to do it. Staring into his face Charlotte realised that pushing Sam would get it no where, so she reached out to him and gentle attempted to pry the bottle out of his hand, "Come on let's get you to bed, or at least somewhere you can lie down," she said softly, giving him a little smile, whatever was driving his was surely made worse by the alcohol that he had consumed, so hopefully come him sobering up he was be able to tell her what was happening, if he remembered any of this, which she dearly hoped he did, "Come on Sam," she gently pushed again, a small attempting to be reassuring smile crossing her feature, she didn't want to make this worse, she just wanted to make it better, help her closest friend.
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[Samuel Phillips]

Samuel's mind affected by the alcohol and adrenaline in his system, raced so rapidly that he was completely ignorant to the amount of time that passed between his first clumsy sip from the bottle of champagne in his hand, and when Charlotte arrived into the room. But he was aware of his surroundings enough to notice her kneel and attempt to pry the bottle from his hands. His level of coherency was still high enough for him to take in everything that was happening, and that alone was an excuse for him to drink more to forget the ordeal that had been and was presently that evening, if there ever was an excuse. He instinctively tightened his grip, pulling the bottle closer to his chest to keep Charlotte from taking it from him, before he looked up to notice her reassuring, kind smile. He found himself melt with guilt under her gaze and allowed her take the bottle from him. Despite the scene he had caused at a party with weeks of planning she had put in, and the scene he was continuing to cause by remaining at the venue, Charlotte was still treating him with kindness. It left only one world circling in intoxicated mind, a mix of confusion and apathy. "Why?" He asked, speech delayed and slightly slurred, yet still comprehensible. "Why are you being so nice to me?" He asked again.

In Samuel's mind the last thing he deserved was Charlotte's kindness. Not only due to his actions that evening, but his actions ever since she announced her relationship to him. He kept up a facade to save himself the hurt of rejection and lied to her repeatedly to save her the stress of his true feelings, believing that hiding how he felt was his only option. The aftermath of his outburst meant his facade was cracked and falling apart at the edges, but even with shambles of a mask left over to hide what he felt, he knew he still did not deserve her kindness. The truth to Sam was that Charlotte would always be too good for him, and he would be nothing more than a friend to her, supporting her in shadow of someone else. She deserved far more than he could ever offer, and especially more than a friend who did nothing but lie to her, even if his intentions were to spare her feelings. He shook his head before Charlotte could answer his questions, filling in the answer for himself as he looked to the floor and brought his hands to his face. "No. I don't deserve your pity. I don't deserve anything." He said. "I'm not- I haven't even been honest with you, Char." The repercussions and reality of what he was saying began to dawn on him, causing him to shake his head again and muffle his words behind his hands, hoping that if he urged her to leave him alone he wouldn't spill his heart to her and ruin everything he worked so tirelessly to hide. "You should go. You have better things to do than be here, with me." He moved his hands from his face, using them to loosen his tie. His actions and words were ever spiraling out of control and he wanted nothing more than for Charlotte to leave so he could continue to spare her from the mess that was his existence. She deserved that much from him, if anything.

sorry that this took a million years​

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[Charlotte Williams]

The way he more tightly gripped the bottle as Charlotte tried to take it from him was no good indication, she continued to keep a kind expression on his face and this allowed her to eventually take the bottle from his hands and set it done where it was in reach for her but not for him. What surprised her more was the fact he wondered why she was doing this, above all else, she couldn't imagine reacting in other way, he was her friend, she had known him countless years, been with him through his darker and better moments, she loved him. It was her own realisation of this fact that stunned the woman, she had always loved him as a friend, but she loved him. She had believe the love she had was not for him but rather for the man whom she was with, but that was the missing piece, she didn't actually love him, not in the way that she loved Sam, and knew that she would want to be with Sam, where things with her current beau were stagnent. Oh how her parents were going to be unhappy, they loved the man she was dating, she was sure her father would for sure warm to Sam, her mother would be a more difficult task, but where he lacked in what her mother want, the rest of who he was would eventually be enough for her. The woman realised that she had not said anything, that she was just staring forward looking at him, but saying nothing.

It was when he spoke again that she was brought back more to the moment, she wanted to help him more than anything in that moment, and it wasn't a pity that drove her, just a desire to do something for him rather than nothing. She didn't want to leave him alone, she didn't want him to be alone, her duties as hostess be damned she would stay with him. Charlotte fully thought that he deserved all the good the world could give him, she reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, "What haven't you been honest with me about?" Charlotte gently pushed, she wanted to know what he was saying, what he meant, if there was just a tiny way in which he felt the same way about her as she did for him. There had to be an element of it, surely he felt the same way. She shook her head, "You don't get to decide how I spend my time," she told him kindly, implying that she would very well choose to help him before she did anything else. She held out a hand to him, "Come on, it's no use sitting on the floor thinking it over, get some rest and face it again tomorrow," Charlotte knew that anything he said now could be things he might regret and she didn't want that for him. She wanted it be an honest admission, "Come on Sam, let me help you,"
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[Samuel Phillips]

Samuel blamed the growing lump in his throat on his tie, thus was the reason he kept his eyes trained to the floor while his sloppy, shaking hands fumbled to loosen and then undo the material, hoping it would relieve the suffocating feeling in his lungs that continued to worsen with the ever-sinking reality of the situation he had put himself in. He was a mess that night in more ways than one, in more ways than simply intoxicated and it was more of a mess than he ever wanted Charlotte to see. She had seen him at what had been his worst pending that very moment but his current mess was different than his usual sleep deprived obsession with perfection. His current mess was one that threatened to spill the truth and ruin everything he managed to hide from his friend to save her the stress of feeling responsible, or worse, guilty, for the scene that he'd caused at a party he knew meant so much to her. And lastly a mess that kept the thoughts in his hazed mind swirling out of control until the soft feeling of her hand on his shoulder broke him from his reverie. His gaze lifted from the floor to watch where her hand rested, then moved to follow the length of her arm until his eyes once again met hers. The answer to her question hung on the tip of his tongue, threatening to escape the walls he had put up and the people he had used as a distraction from it all, while his glazed eyes inspected hers for any hint of adversity, any dissonance that prescribed him another reason to keep it hidden. But he instead found nothing but reassurance in her kind, hazel eyes he knew so well and a foreboding sense of determination that he knew meant she wasn't going to leave him alone that night, no matter how desperately he pleaded, nor how coldly he attempted to push her away to save them both was going to be a lot of trouble.

From the beginning, it had always been his responsibility to hell her the truth. Just as it had always been his fault for not admitting to her what was the truth until that moment where his mind in a frenzy of lowered inhibitions, overwhelmed by emotions and fueled by dutch courage, forced him to say the words he had refused to for what felt like his lifetime. "I love you." His instincts screamed at him to act otherwise, to take it all back in and revert to hiding his true feelings. But he managed to say those three important words, and swallowed heavily before repeating himself in a voice less hoarse and broken to answer her question as he ignored everything else she said. "I love you, Charlotte." Despite feeling like his heart was beating out of his rib cage in anticipation of his Charlotte's reaction, and wanting nothing more than for the floor to swallow him whole so he could avoid what would be her inevitable rejection, he kept his eyes fixated on hers and his expression honest. The mess he had caused that night, and in the countless time that passed since his realization that what he felt for Charlotte was indeed love, was all because of her, for better or for worse. He had become too intoxicated to stand up easily and run away on his own accord, so all he could do in that exceptionally burdened moment was wait for her to speak and tell him what he already knew.
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[Charlotte Williams]

Charlotte's own realisation of her feelings towards Sam were only doubled upon hearing his words, his admission to her, he loved her, she loved him, and he loved her. The woman glanced around them, conscious of anyone else hearing it, though she might love him she was with someone else and in theory Charlotte loved him. The woman wasn't too sure what to do, she felt stunned and unable to move forward, to help Sam find a bed and let him sleep this off. Perhaps it would just turn out to be a momentary lapse, his drunk mind making him think she was someone else. This could not have been less true though, as he repeated himself and added her name, it wasn't the girl whom he had come to the party with, it was her, Charlotte. He was in love with her, Charlotte. The woman sat back on her heels and stared at her closest friend. The man she had known for so many year, had known in all states, this man was the man she seemed to love more than just platonically. Charlotte didn't know what to do, whether to admit it in return knowing the weight of her statements and what that would mean for the future, what that would mean for her and her currently boyfriend, a man that was not Sam. She thought of her parents, who were so in love themselves with who she was currently dating, her mother in particular. She kept her gaze on him, a soft and warm expression, "I love you too Sam," she said quietly, perhaps he wouldn't remember any of this by morning. She of course would, having drunk less as the host, but it didn't change anything about it. She loved him. That was the missing piece that she'd been worrying over, the thing which had made her current relationship so difficult, and which was why she had been so tentative about it.

The woman decided that at the very least Sam needed a bed. So she reached out, with a soft smile, "Right, come on lets get you up," she said to him, getting to her own feet and helping him up with her. She wasn't sure how much of it he would remember the next day, but she knew he'd probably have a killer hangover and at the very least a little more sleep and a good bed would help. She quickly got him into one of the guest rooms and lay him down on the bed. She smiled at him as she pulled some blankets over him and took off his shoes. She left the room and returned with a bottle of water and some aspirin for the morning, things that he might surely need. Charlotte felt a little bed for leaving him there on the bed, what if he was sick. She had placed a bucket next to the bed but she wanted to stay with him and just make sure that he slept, that his needs were taken care of, but she also had a party to host and she didn't want to be a bad host. In the end, she just lightly kissed his forehead, "I'll come check on you later," she whispered to him before leaving the room, glancing back at him one last time before she left to rejoin the party.

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