Project Oxygen

01 | behaviorism

          Trust her; she has been counting the days until she leaves this forsaken place.

          Sighing softly to herself, Rhiannon watches her sister and Aaron make their way down the aisle, surrounded by people who never miss a beat while clapping, celebrating love and life and union, while she has never felt more out of place. Stephanie's eyes dart towards her, trying to find her in the middle of the crowd, but they're equally as quick to focus back on Aaron, as if they had turned into reversed magnets.

           That also happens to be Stephanie's own description of the two of them. After dating for four years and being engaged for one and a half, it was certainly about time they made it official, with the laws of Physics pulling them together instead of separating them, and Rhiannon knew exactly why she was using those terms. She thought it would be a subtle way of trying to reconnect with her, with Rhiannon having dedicated her heart to neurosciences, but their parents' pressure had always weighed too much.

           Besides, she doesn't care that much about Physics. She prefers neurons and synapses, with those electric and chemical shots carrying so much information from one tiny cell to the other and having potentially immeasurable consequences. She likes studying things on an atomic level, not through forces and vectors; to her, it feels like pulling away all the magic and beauty there still is out there and reducing it to simple mechanical explanations.

          Rhiannon's parents' height has never failed to astound her, even though she should be used to it by now after the twenty-one years that have passed. Mrs. Ford curls her fingers around her wrist as both of them try to walk out of the cathedral and Rhiannon is certain it hurts them both, with both of them having given up modeling at different times in their lives.

          Rhiannon hopes it hurts the absolute witch of a woman standing in front of her. She doesn't try to mask her disdain anymore, being awfully eager to leave the ceremony (the place was cleaned before it began and Stephanie made sure everything would be immaculate as soon as the first guest took a step inside the cathedral, but Rhiannon still finds it a bit morbid, especially with the tall windows and wooden archways), but Madeleine Ford has different plans, it seems.

          "Where are you going?" she demands, but Rhiannon has had enough of feeling insecure around her. Standing at an impressive natural height of five foot ten, the stilettos she's wearing today give her two extra inches and leave her taller than her mother. Rhiannon purses her lip, covered by a coat of red lipstick, the exact color of the rose petal she almost swallowed. "So? The ceremony isn't over. There's still plenty of things to do and see and you know"—at this point, her voice sounds more like a hiss and Rhiannon can barely hear her—"you're only here because your sister wanted you to. As far as your father and I are concerned—"

          "Trust me"—Rhiannon breaks free from the grip with a jerk, startling a couple standing nearby—"I'm not thrilled to be around the two of you either. I'm going outside to smoke, but, if it bothers you that much, I don't mind doing it in here." Madeleine's nostrils flare and she's livid, her black hair twisted into an intricate up-do that took her hairdresser almost an hour to create. "I wouldn't do that because I still have an ounce of respect for these people and my sister. I'm sure the same cannot be said about you."

          "Then you should have some self-respect as well," Christopher Ford remarks, with a hand set between his wife's shoulder blades, and Rhiannon's shoulders are so stiff they could slice a diamond in half. He's the source of most of her genes, with the two of them having the same strong jaw and brows, dark eyes and defined cheekbones, but his once blond hair has since faded to gray. "Don't be that way. There are more important things to care about today than your petty drama."