With Hearts to Hear| ✔

|01|

She had gotten into a fight with her mum. It was all the usual things, she was throwing her life away, she's never amount to anything if she kept on the way she was, she was wasting her time money and own potential by not even trying to get her life back on track. Rachel was surprised that the woman hadn't threatened to disown her; but knowing everything they had been through with her dad, she would probably never say that.

Rachel thanked her lucky stars that Mark wasn't there, because she knew that things would have been much worse if he had been. She knew she should at least try to get along with the man, he had after all been her mothers second chance at love, but she couldn't, not when she had a real father. It was moments like those that Rachel wished she was like her mother; her mother believed whole-heartedly and fervently that her father was reincarnated now, that there was no use to keep mourning for someone who was just transitioning into a new life.

Besides, it was blaringly obvious that she wasn't a part of his family- her darker skin stuck out against the backdrop of the pale skin that both Mark and his children wore. Even her mother was quite fair, and with her green eyes, she looked far more ambiguous; Rachel had taken after her father- dark skin and dark features, with no way that she could deny her strong Indian roots.

She had heard how much it had been a point of contention for her grandparents for their daughter, a light-skinned Hindu to marry a dark skinned merchant that practiced Jainism. They had run away, eloped, and fled to England after it was made clear their families would never accept their union; they settled in Willsden Brooke and had never looked back. Rachel wondered what her estranged grandparents would think of their daughter marrying a white englishman.

She took another deep glug of the golden liquid that occasionally was fit for the gods, though usually was more remnant of piss; tonight it was piss. The beer in the pint glass in front of her was going warm, she was already on her third, and the stale taste of reality only bittered the already bitter brew. Another sin for her mother to be disappointed in her for.

She forced herself not to think of her mother, or father, or anything else that would remind her of how shit both she and her life seemed to be. It was Friday night after all, and the night was still young...

She scoured the packed pub area; the British really couldn't help themselves when it came to their pub culture. She watched a group of men, old enough to be at least twice her age, chatting loudly discussing whatever new depressing story had come on the news. They'd probably be back to laughing over ale and greasy pub food like they did every weekend, their 10 o'clock concern done for the day. There were no attractive faces among them, so she turned her attention to a different group, lingering momentarily on a pretty dark skin woman with warm ginger braids who sat nursing an Aperol spritz as the friends in her company chatted.

Rachel stood from her stool, chugging down the last remnants of beer from her pint glass, forcing down the usual nervous flutter she got whenever she went to chat somebody up. She stumbled for a moment, more disorientated from having to use her feet (and very tall heels) after being sat for so long than drunk. She was barely tipsy, enough to be buzzed, but not enough to kill a mood or her chat, she hoped.

She strutted over, every bit of her intention and attention honed in on this one girl who in the haze of the pub lighting seemed to look like an angel with her autumnal braids every bit as fiery as her drink. Perhaps that was why it took her by surprise when someone grabbed her by the arm. She whirled around, prepared to launch herself like the spitfire that she was at whoever it was that had dared to touch her without her consent. Only the fight left her when she saw who it was.

Natalia.

Since she had broken things off almost 2 months ago, Rachel was proud that she had managed to keep her distance. Usually, she couldn't last more than a couple weeks before she ended up crawling back to Natalia; usually because she would have to pick between staying with her mum and her new 'perfect' family, or Natalia's place. It was easier to stay in a place where maybe she didn't belong, but at least she wasn't judged.