1.1 | constellations of you and me ✓

voicemails | stars

WHEN JONAH GETS DRUNK, HE LEAVES VOICE MESSAGES ON HER OLD PHONE NUMBER.

It's not pretty.

"God, I fucking miss you," he slurs, and the background noise rises exponentially along with his heartrate. "I miss your—your smile, and it's so stunning when I think about you in my head." Jonah hiccups. "Think about you all the time, Ellie, and—and that you left."

Adrian yells at him to stop drinking, but of course, Jonah doesn't respond. "I know you're going through—through a lot of things: trust me, I know, but—aren't I allowed to miss you?" He closes his eyes, head pounding to the bass. "Am I still allowed to care?"

***

Or sometimes, he even calls when he's sober.

Those aren't pretty, either.

"I had dark chocolate crepes at Sue's today," he tells her, twirling a soccer ball with one hand and running a hand through messy, black hair with the other. "Tasted good, but it would've been better if you were with me, right? I guess—" Jonah sighs and breaks off, eyes closing slowly. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I wish I could see you right now—and talk to you. I wish I could tell you that you're still my baboya."

His throat begins to hurt, and as the moonlight streams in through the clear window panes, Jonah feels a slight pang in his leg. "My knee hurt today," he tells no one. "Couldn't even walk on it, but Adrian drove me around and told me I was ridiculous for trying to."

Heavy silence follows, and for once, he's at a loss for words.

"Get better, okay? And not for anyone else—don't listen to those other goddamn voices in your head, because they're all lying. You'll be okay."

Tears taste like bittersweet memories. "I just wish you could've been okay with me."

***

And on rare occasions, he'll call when he gets lonely.

"I guess it's embarrassing, but I thought—I thought we'd be together for a long, long time. I thought we'd get married—one night when you were asleep, I even went on the internet to look for an engagement ring you'd like: simple, silver, soft. Did you know that?"

He laughs softly. "I bet you didn't," Jonah admits. "I thought we'd have ages to tell our story to other people about how the captain of the soccer team fell in love with a girl whose heart was the size of the sun. I thought we'd have enough memories to laugh about and say, 'Remember? Remember when you kissed me?'"

Jonah sighs, and even though his heart hurts, he smiles. "It was so easy for me to love you, Eloise Park. So easy for me to forget. So easy for me to get lost." He slides his legs underneath the covers. "I'm okay now," he says. "I'm okay. Just—just do me a favor, baboya."

It feels like destiny. "Don't just exist: live, okay? Live for yourself, and for no one else."

***

What he doesn't know, however, is that she's also sending the voice messages right back to a line without an operator.

"It feels weird talking without you here. It's like I'm confessing something, and—oh, fuck, I can't do this."

Eloise hangs up.

***

She calls back.

"Okay," she breathes out delicately in the comfort of her bedroom. "Okay, I'm back. And I'm sorry. I—I went to your graduation this afternoon. There were so many people, and you probably didn't see me, but god, Jonah." Eloise laughs softly. "You still look beautiful. So, so beautiful. And I'm proud of you."

A pause. "I'm seeing a therapist," she says through the line. "I'm getting help, which is—good. It's good. And it was too selfish to ask you to wait, but I know you'll be fine without me."

Eloise curls her fingers together. "If stars were a person, it'd be you, so please never stop shining. Maybe—maybe someday, we'll glow together."

The line shuts off.

***

On other days, she'll cry into her phone.

"Sometimes, I wish we never met. Because thinking of you hurts, and remembering you hurts, and—I don't even know what I'm saying right now. I don't know what I'm doing or where I'm going, but I wish you were holding my hand. I wish you were here."

A shaky exhale. "But this is good," she consoles. "I'm good. And, um, I'm letting go—of everything. Of my nightmares. And I'm moving on." Eloise tugs on her hair, letting her fingertips press against the ends.

"Do you think the universe knew this would happen? That I'd hold you back? Maybe our souls are tied together with a red string, or maybe—maybe it'll tug away after time passes by."

Eloise lets a tear slip past and travel down her face, liquid resembling heartbreak and healing at the same time. "You're unforgettable, Jonah," she cries, holding a hand over her heart just to feel the rhythm.

"I hope we'll find each other someday—whether it's in this universe or the next."

***

Eloise Park and Jonah Kim receive the same automated message at the same time.

"Inbox is full. No more messages."

***

author's note: one more official epilogue to go. i hope you're all doing well.

love always, mads.