Now the day bleeds
Into nightfall
And you're not here
To get me through it all
I let my guard down
And then you pulled the rug
I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved

The first notes from the violins interrupted the buzzing crowd, sending a murmur around the room. After a few bars, the tenor of the cello joined them, with the rest of the orchestra following moments later. Curtseying women in colourful satins and silk smiled to men bowing in tuxedos and tails, before joining hands and moving as one around the floor. A tentative glance towards the couples confirmed just how happy they were. But then, a Strauss waltz was liable to do that. It had a way of warming a cold heart, had a way of drawing a smile. Before you even realised, it would take hold, and have you humming along to an all too familiar tune.

But not tonight. Tonight, nothing, not even one of Strauss' best loved waltzes, "Tales from the Vienna Woods", a hometown favourite, could draw a smile. Not a real one, anyway. The night had just begun, but there certainly wasn't going to be any dancing. No, none of that tonight. No joining the happy couples circling around the middle of the room. It would be pointless trying to force heavy feet to move, let alone expect them to be light and carefree when they felt weighed down with lead.

Even the first glass of champagne, offered on a silver tray by the smartly dressed waiter only moments ago, was unlikely to coax a smile. No amount of wine or liquor tonight could lift this dark mood. A dark mood so out of place amongst all the colour and joi de vivre. With everyone in the small circle now holding a glass, it was time to offer a toast, the chinking of glasses the cue to force a smile. Good health and happiness. It was such a ridiculous thought. At any other time, it may even be amusing if it wasn't so bizarre, so inconceivable. Forcing a smile, was one thing. Happiness was something entirely different. Resisting a sigh, it was going to be a long, tedious night. An agonising, difficult chore. But, unfortunately, a necessary one.

It had already been far too long. But then, just how long is too long? Is there any way of knowing? When does it reach that magical tipping point, when trying to heal and survive in your own private Hell becomes something far more serious and sinister? Avoidance. Escape. Self-preservation. All so easy to justify. All so easy to cling to as excuses. But then, well-meaning friends may have been right. Time to face the world again. Standing here now, it was easy to accept it may have been better facing up to things before now. Didn't they say you should get straight back on the horse, so to speak. Perhaps it had been a mistake to shut out everyone except the closest of friends. After all, you can't avoid the inquisitive crowds forever. And it had felt like forever.

Six weeks, three days, a little over twenty-two hours.

And yet, it still felt like yesterday. It still felt just as raw, and no less painful. What was that other silly saying, something about the passage of time? Some nonsense about time healing wounds. Useless, patronising words uttered by gullible fools without a clue. The wounds hadn't even begun to heal. They were open and gaping, exactly the same as the night they were inflicted. With an aching heart now a familiar, constant companion, it was hard to believe they ever would heal. Turning back to the circle of close friends, drawn by a witty quip from someone in the small group, it had never been so hard to force a smile. Wasn't this supposed to be getting easier? Time hadn't healed a single, damn thing.

Taking a sip of champagne, even that tasted flat and dry. Like the dregs of a barrel from a disappointing vintage. But then, nothing really was the same these days. How could it be? Everything, not just the wildly expensive champagne, but the extravagant food, even the summer turning into autumn had lost its flavour, its colour, its charm. Everything, the entire world and everything in it, now seemed sombre and bleak.

Trying to push away the melancholy thoughts, it was time to risk another glance at the crowd moving around the floor. Yet another reminder of happy couples, of what should have been. It was easy to point out the men holding the women they'd be making love to tonight. It used to be a game. Now it was just a painful reminder of what would never be. It was just as easy to find the men dancing with the woman who were little more than strangers, but who were about to capture their heart and set their world alight. It was difficult, almost unbearable, watching all the men being captivated by the beautiful, vivacious women, flirting and teasing along to the strains of Strauss as they waltzed around the room.

But, as difficult as it was to watch, it was impossible to look away. A stark reminder of the lonely evening ahead. It was odd, that feeling of being so utterly alone in a room surrounded by so many people. It was a happy crowd, brimming with cheer and revelry. Why wouldn't it be? Everyone looking forward to the upcoming party season, a long winter of balls ahead. There was a pang of pain, trying to decide what was worse. The long, bleak night that lay ahead, or the dark, lonely winter to come.

Rather than spend the evening standing here, juggling the same, lukewarm glass of champagne, it may have made more sense to dream up another apology. Find some way to brush off this damn invitation, like all the others. After all, sitting at home alone in a dark room, or just escaping to bed to hide would be better than this. There must be some excuses left. Surely, they hadn't all been trotted out yet?

At least at home, there wouldn't be this maddening, happy crowd. Usually keen to soak up the attention, the glare of tonight's spotlight was already wearing thin. Over the weeks, it had been enough of a struggle under the scrutiny of close friends. Brushing off their concern had been bad enough, but avoiding their searching eyes far more difficult. As much as their efforts were appreciated, they could only do so much. With all of tonight's distractions, it should be easier to look away from them, to get caught up in the crowd, to just drift away and lose yourself in the evening.

But even the briefest glances at the nearby crowd were difficult. Trying to find the balance a struggle. Bravely facing the inquisitive stares head on, while not wanting to dwell too long in case any hint of pain was revealed. Juggling the two was almost impossible. Perhaps avoiding all eye contact was best, just in case they saw through the bravado and forced heroics. What did they say? The eyes are the windows to the soul. Yet another ridiculous, trite saying. But with the next wave of tears unpredictable and never far away, best not tempt fate. Where was that legendary confidence and charm?

Taking a second sip of champagne, it tasted just as odd as the first. As tempting as it was to just stare blankly at the floor, that would only signal defeat to everyone. Head high, shoulders back. Turning back to the laughter from the small trusted group, it was easier to just find a spot on the wall and stare at that. A far safer option. Another forced smile at a joke that could have been about anything.

Glancing back towards the dancing couples, it was obvious who everyone in the crowd was looking at, who their whispered conversations were about. Let them have their fun, they'd soon grow tired and move on to something else. Something far more interesting. It was always going to be like this. After all, it was the first time. Whether it was tonight, next week or next month, it wouldn't be any different. The first time in six weeks, three days and twenty-two hours. Perhaps it was now the twenty-third hour. They'd been here a while now, or did it just seem time was dragging. The tired, exhausted mind playing another trick. Honestly, it felt like they'd arrived hours ago.

Usually, a ballroom filled with a partying crowd would provide solace, an atmosphere to revel in. With such enviable status, a sharp wit and magnetic charm, dominating any room had always come easy. It had never taken much of an effort, blessed with a presence that all the crowd was naturally drawn to. But tonight, was entirely different. Tonight, everyone's attention was unwanted, it was for all the wrong reasons.

A quick glance in the direction of nearby laughter found a group of women, not even having the good manners to conceal their gossiping. Normally, it wouldn't have any effect. Normally, it would be worn like a badge of honour. Their gossiping just simple jealousy or envy, over something petty. But tonight, it was different. It was heartless, a chance to take a cheap shot and land some blows. And their cruelty was hitting its mark. Head high, shoulders back. The words kept playing over and over again. Where was that unshakeable confidence?

The room was starting to feel stuffy, the air was stifling, making it hard to breathe. Going outside to get some air would make sense. But that would mean walking through the crowd. Too much of a coward to move, it was easier to try and hide in the back corner of the room, a strategic spot claimed earlier with a few trusted friends providing some protection. Best to stay here and ignore the light-headedness and dizziness that, for once, couldn't be blamed on the champagne.

Swallowing a sigh, forcing it past the ball of tears, one thing was certain. It was going to be a long, tedious evening. Head high, shoulders back. Perhaps it was paranoia, just an addled mind jumping to the conclusion that everyone was looking in this direction, talking about the same thing. A mad mind driven by endless sleepless nights, too many days spent inside your own head. But it did feel like the entire room was focused on one thing, and one thing only.

Her. Her humiliation. And her poor, aching heart.

Not that anyone cared too much about her heartache. She wasn't that deluded. Everyone was having far too much fun to care about her feelings. Anyway, she wouldn't let them see her pain, wouldn't give them the pleasure. Her close friends could guess how hurt she'd been, still was, but she hadn't said anything. Not even to them, not even when she'd first returned home. Saying things out loud, just made them more real. It would force her to confront the pain and humiliation. She refused to do that. Much easier to pretend it didn't really matter, that it never really did. Blinking away the all too familiar sting of tears, she looked away, risking another look at the crowd.

"This little number?" she turned back to a question from a well-meaning friend wearing a concerned look. "Oh, just an old thing I found hanging in the back of the wardrobe." Even brushing off trivial questions with glib answers was difficult. Perhaps they were right to be concerned. In the past, she hadn't needed an excuse, or even an invitation to a party to visit the dressmaker or boutiques. But this time, for once, her heart wasn't in it. Why did everything, even the everyday, seem so difficult?

Trying to force one of her radiant smiles, she managed to shift the concern from her friend's eyes. But was it concern? Perhaps she'd been mistaken with her mind dulled from lack of sleep and the room feeling like it was spinning rather than the couples on the dance floor. After all, it was easy to misread these things. Perhaps, deep down, she knew it wasn't concern, but it was just easier to pretend. She didn't want anyone's pity. She'd never asked for anyone's pity or sympathy in the past, and she wasn't about to start. Certainly not tonight. Not in this room of heartless gossips.

Her eyes moved away, back to the dancing couples, as she reminded herself to lift her head, to hold it high. Shoulders back. She had nothing to be embarrassed about, nothing to hide. She wasn't to blame. No one was. Sometimes, things just didn't play out the way you had hoped. That was life. God knows, it wasn't the first time she'd been dealt a bad hand. It probably wouldn't be the last. Perhaps she should have fought a little harder. But what for? A life with a man whose heart was clearly somewhere else.

As the night's first waltz came to an end, she turned her mind back to the conversation going on around her. A friend was relaying the latest haute couture trends discovered on a recent visit to Paris. It wasn't what they'd usually be discussing at one of these parties. No, their conversation would cover much more interesting topics. Taking another sip of champagne, it tasted as bitter as the realisation that until tonight, she'd been one of those gossiping women. How many hours had she spent picking through the wreckage of other people's marriages, their scandalous affairs, and innuendo so salacious, it could only have been made up. Life certainly had its own sense of humour. What did her late husband used to say? Its own way of balancing the books.

And little wonder the other women had been so quick to the turn the tables on her. How swiftly she'd fallen. Going from being engaged to the country's most eligible man to miserable and alone within hours. It may have been easier if the other woman hadn't been right under her nose. The damn governess. A postulant, practically a nun, who was probably only half her age. Awkward and naive, as unruly as her charges. She bit down on the tears and bitterness building in her throat. Head high, shoulders back, brilliant smile.

There was one small mercy. At least their engagement hadn't been announced. The whole sorry thing hadn't even lasted long enough to make it to the newspapers. Feeling the sting of tears again, she consoled herself, it could have been much worse. But still, Georg had courted her for so long, many just assumed they'd already formalised the arrangement…

"Maybe a little later," she nodded to a silver-haired man gently touching her elbow. She forced a smile for him. It had been a very kind invitation to dance, but she wouldn't be accepting his offer, or his pity. Besides, she thought as she watched him walk away, didn't he realise dancing was the last thing on her mind tonight. "Oh, I'd much rather hear all about this wonderful little trip of yours," she forced a smile as she turned back to a friend's look that wavered between concern and encouragement.

Having successfully deflected the attention away from her, she forced herself to focus on the upcoming trends for winter. Perhaps that's what she needed. Some time away. Not Paris, it held too many memories. An escape from another Austrian winter to the Mediterranean was always a tempting option. And it would mean avoiding more of these evenings. But she'd never been one to run and hide. Somewhere between Chanel trouser suits with their bolero-style jackets and gypsy inspired evening gowns, the lure of warm sun and balmy evenings started to take hold…

Her thoughts stopping suddenly, she froze. Surely, she'd been mistaken. After all, her mind had been playing endless tricks on her these past weeks. But there it was again. Don't turn. Don't turn around. She could feel the colour draining away from her cheeks, that wave of panic starting to rise. As if her humiliation couldn't get any worse. The only escape was at the far end of the room. It would be too risky. Their paths would have to cross. She couldn't face that. Not here. Not now.

Straining her ears, there it was again. A laugh her instincts had learned to pinpoint in a crowded room. She could locate the man blindfolded, she thought grimly. Her heart started breaking all over again. She wasn't mistaken, she'd recognise that laugh anywhere, even with the orchestra and the murmuring crowd. And, just in case there was any doubt, he said something. It was only a few words. But it was enough.

That rich, unmistakable baritone…

I have been horribly unkind to poor Elsa in my past stories, so I decided some time ago that I really should try to put myself in her well-heeled shoes and start making amends.

I'm not sure this will undo all my past sins, but a little penance may be enough to get me back into the fold of the Baroness Fan Club. Although, it may be too little, too late for that!

The title of this story is inspired by "Someone You Loved" – a beautiful, but heartbreaking song by Lewis Capaldi.

I still don't own TSOM, just back having a lend!

"Immerse your soul in love"