Who. Young!Emma Frost From. Not UtR By. Krys Note. I want to play this out with people. I doubt that's going to happen. So. Indulging myself here. There could be more of this later, too.
After it had ended and Emma could look back at the incident with clarity, she wouldn't be able to tell what exactly had set her off. Maybe it'd simply been the simpering fools, practical strangers to Emma who had only met Christian in passing once or twice. They'd paraded around the funeral home as though they'd lost their closest friend, crying and sobbing miserably. It was sickening. Maybe it'd been the fact that so much had happened over the course of her senior year of high school. There'd been so much fighting and strife. There'd been attacks on the school. She'd lost friends over the mutant situation. She lived in fear of being revealed for what she truly was. Maybe it'd been the guilt sitting heavily on Emma's shoulders. Her brother was dead. He'd been killing himself slowly with drink and drugs for months and Emma hadn't caught it. She hadn't saved him. Maybe it'd been a combination of factors that had her rise from her seat.
"Emma." Winston's commanding voice was a harsh whisper. He seemed to sense the trouble in the air. He glared at his daughter, who continued to walk as though he hadn't just called her over.
Once at the podium, Emma bent the microphone close and stared out at the crowd from behind over sized sunglasses. In the very back of the room were a few of Emma's friends and classmates. All of them looked rather uncomfortable. Emma couldn't blame them.
"I'm sure," Emma felt a lump in her throat. She forced herself to swallow before continuing. After a deep breath, she sounded slightly more steady. "I'm sure a few of you are scandalized by the fact that I am wearing white to my brother's funeral. White's my color. I'm known for wearing white clothing. My friends," Emma made a gesture to them at the back. Julian and Betsy looked concerned, "can attest to that. I doubt anyone really knows why. It was my brother's fault. When I was younger, I wore this gorgeous white dress to some stupid party. Before we left the house - this was before he'd gone off to university - he took me aside and told me that white was my color." She smiled. "I learned a lot from my brother at a young age. He was smart. Christian watched things and really saw people for what they were. He helped to mold me into the person I am today. He showed me what it took to be beautiful and survive high school. It was Christian with whom I first dyed my hair. Christian would be there when I went shopping, approving or disapproving of certain outfits. He had a sharp eye for that sort of thing. I had to learn to fit in. Christian had to teach me.
"He would say, 'Emma, you have to always be a step ahead of the game. You have to be perfection and accept nothing less in return.' Christian told me I could be everything I ever wanted to be if only I put my mind to it." Emma's smile turned sad. "As a little girl, I looked up to him. As I grew older, I only continued to idolize him. I didn't notice when he started to slip. My poor brother. He carried demons with him and he suffered in silence. He wasn't as strong as I imagined."
Emma's eyes watered, but her voice remained strong. "It was my fault that he died. I'd seen the signs for months, but it never sunk in that maybe Christian had gotten in over his head. When he got so drunk that he blacked out, I just thought that was what happened at college. He didn't let me see much of his addiction, but I knew about it. I think I made excuses for him. Maybe I was afraid to see fault in my brother. He was my only real friend in the family. He was someone I thought would always be there. He was an idol for me in a way that neither of my parents could be." There was a murmur that ran through the crowd. Emma ignored it.
Emma, what are you doing? Betsy spoke in Emma's head.
Paying respect to my brother. What would you do if Brian was dead and strangers were making a show of his funeral?
Betsy said no more.
"I wasn't the only one responsible," Emma said. "My lovely parents each played their parts." Emma stared at them now, trying to bore holes into their skulls in spite of the glasses she wore. Both of them looked away. Emily Frost had tears in her eyes. Emma wasn't sure if she actually felt guilty or if she was just putting on a good show. People were whispering loudly. "Adrienne has always been too busy for the rest of us. And little Cordelia has always been too busy getting herself into trouble. I can only hope that this will shake her of her own addictions.
"When we were younger, Christian and I would stick together during the parties my parents threw. He always would laugh at the thought of someone doing something truly extraordinary to wake everyone out of their comfortable little bubbles. That is what I am doing now. I am not going to wail like some of you. Though I'm sure some of you think otherwise, I am not speaking here to draw attention to myself. I am here for Christian. Someone should be." She inhaled. "Later on, you all will forget this. My little outburst will be swept under the rugs and never again be mentioned. Most of you fear the wrath of my father far too much to cause him trouble. You're all such good friends here." Emma scoffed quietly. "But right now, this moment is real. Someone, for once, is speaking the truth at one of these awful, pretentious, disgustingly fake gatherings. Christian would be proud." Emma bowed her head for a moment. Then she looked up, raked a hand through her hair. She spotted Julian in the back of the room looking alarmed. She wondered if he thought her crazy. If she'd been able to smile at him, she would have.
For the briefest of moments, Emma wondered if her reputation was ruined. Maybe by Monday morning, she'd be kicked out of the popular clubs. Maybe she'd be the next social pariah. If so, she'd survive somehow. Her popularity didn't seem quite as important anymore.
"By word and by example, Christian taught me to be strong and beautiful. He taught me to never accept anything less than perfection. That is what I will always keep with me. I will be flawless for Christian, because he hasn't the chance to be so anymore." Her voice faltered. "I loved my brother." A pause. "I'm done with the rest of my family. Thank you."
Emma held her head high and walked out of the room, not looking back, not listening to the thoughts of the people around her. There was an uncomfortable silence hanging heavily in the room only punctuated by a not-so-quiet murmur. Winston and Emily would handle things in time, no doubt, controlling the crowd and distancing themselves from Emma. They'd say she was driven mad by grief. They'd talk about the therapy they'd put her through. Most would just think Emma a troubled girl, someone to be pitied. She couldn't bring herself to care.
"Emma."
"Julian." They were alone, just outside the funeral home.
"I sorry-"
"I can't do this right now, Julian. I need to go." She could feel herself starting to come undone. She'd managed to speak without falling into hysterics. Now, the cool numbness was starting to fade. "I have to... I have things I have to take care of before Winston freezes me out of the house and my bank accounts." She was surprised by how unafraid she was of being disowned.
"I'll go with you."
"I need to do this alone."
"Emma..."
"Do me a favor, please." Her voice was too high. "Keep an eye on them all for me? Call me when they get out."
"Emma, please." He took a step closer to her, brought his hand to her shoulder. Emma didn't exactly move away from him, but she didn't fall into his arms, either.
"I might need a place to stay tonight."
"You're always welcome at the apartment." He kissed her forehead.
This warmed her somewhat. "I know. Thank you. I might be by later. I just have to go now."
"Go then. I'll watch over the vultures for you."
"Thank you, Julian." She sniffled. "I lo..." Something stopped her from saying it. "You are my favorite." Before she turned and left, she kissed him on the cheek. Then she was gone, not waiting for a response from him.