ANGELS LIKE YOU| Jean Kirstein

44 | I'm sorry

It's late when I get to the studio. Mostly everyone has gone home. All except Jean.

The hallway leading to his individual studio is dimly lit.

My stomach aches with anxiety as I hear the faint sound of music. It's Jeans voice.

'I guess I should stop. Looking out for you. Like I always do'

I reach the door, the music louder now and I stick my hand out to knock.

'When will you, start looking out for me too. Instead of leaving me, Staring at my shoes'

I hesitate for a minute before knocking.

The music stops abruptly and I hear shuffling before the door swings open.

I look up from my hands. Jean stares down at me. His eye bags a deep shade of blue. His hair is a mess.

He looks like shit.

"Hi" he speaks, his hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck.

He moves out of the way to let me in. As I step inside, I take in the room. A few band posters littered on the walls. A massive couch against the wall and all of his instruments are placed all around the room. There's empty food containers on the floor and a massive blanket is thrown over the couch.

I sit down on the couch, Jean following my lead and sitting with me.

He stares at me with tired eyes. The silence is deafening.

I clasp my hands together before speaking "how long have you been here for? You look tired"

He shuffles in his seat.

"Two days" he leans back, his T-shirt lifting from his torso slightly.

"Have you been sleeping here?"

"Yes"

The air smells like cigarette smoke.

Then it goes silent again. I look to my side. Too afraid to face him.

"I'm sorry" He whispers.

"Why?" I say

"What do you mean why?" He questions me, as I look towards him now.

"Why are you apologising? It wasn't just you it was me. I was the one who saw red. I was the one who caused it. Not you. This is on me" I say sternly.

"No y/n. It was my fault. We haven't spent time with each other in weeks and that's because I've been here. I've been obsessed with my career and it wasn't fair. I didn't know how badly you needed me" He ruffles his hair, leaning his forearms on his thighs.

"Stop it Jean. I didn't understand that you'd be so busy. I just turned a blind eye to the fact that you were working hard. I was being selfish. I needed you there but I didn't take into consideration that you wouldn't be able to give me all your time like you used to. It was my mistake." I sigh into my hands as I lean my head against the back of the couch.

"We said we'd never be like this. We used to say that we wouldn't break up over silly things" he says.

"I know Jean. I know. That's why this is my fault. I should have opened my eyes and realised that you were busy"