Guide My Steps - A Zak Bagans Story

Coffee Bean Sorrows

Breathing in for a minute or two, I mindlessly resumed my drawing and shaded one side of my characters body in a lighter tone, and the other, in a deeper set color – almost ebony black, but not completely. I included more Latin scriptures that went along with what I was feeling…best part was, I was the only one who spoke the dead language fluently of the group and no Google search was going to aid anyone in understanding the words I’d written.

I tensed noticeably when a shadow covered half my table; my head snapped up. Bagans was standing with a full plate in hand – he had purchased a plate of chocolate chip cookies. Using the wonderful scent that filled the air to deter my decision, I assumed they were fresh out of the oven. Turning down my music, I stared up blankly at both him and the cookies. My mouth water…but I wasn’t sure which of the pair it was watering at.

“Mind if I sit?” He motioned to the empty space beside me. I shrugged, setting everything on the other side of the booth, besides my phone, notebook and pen.

The spiral was proudly displaying my creation while I adjusted myself and my belongings, and when I nodded to Bagans, he abruptly sat the plate of cookies down and walked away.

Pulling the earbuds from my ears, I furrowed my brow in his direction but stared at the cookies.

Their delectable scent wavered through the air, teasing my nose. I could hear the chocolate chips calling my name…like that stupid comical card Bagans carried around in his wallet from a hotel stay years back. It was a private joke and on one of Aaron’s vlogs, which of course, I wasn’t in due to the fact that was one of my moments when I was a hot crying mess locked up somewhere. Seemed to be my only calling card these days – crying and mess.

Two perfect words to describe me just about any time of the year.

Bagans returned shortly with glasses of milk, face blank and eyes hollow – no emotions to see like usual. Did I fuck him up that bad? Or was it…Laura? Maybe he was lost in his head. Yeah, lost in his thoughts like I was. That sounded about right.

“Thanks,” I mumbled quietly, accepting a glass.

Reaching over, I snagged a cookie or two and mindlessly munched on one while Bagans slowly took his seat next to me. The booths were small and oddly shaped so our thighs, elbows and sides touched – every time I even wiggled an inch, our bodies bumped. Bagans ignored it, relaxing into my side and the booth’s cushioned back. He had his legs spread open under the table, phone tucked away in his lap along with his wallet which he had probably just used to pay for our treats.

We both ate in silence with the occasional clink of our cookies hitting the glass of our cups.

I had so much to say. He had no idea what was racking my head on a daily basis. He was more than a friend to me…that was my mindset now. My heart was screaming to say something, tell him everything, but my brain was the polar opposite. It butted fear into any or all emotions that coursed through my bones, it was reigning control. Trying to use logic over instinct. But what my brain was torn between was: Which was better to follow? Logic or instinct? Heart or brain?  

“Emie.” Bagans whispered gently to me.

I blinked my watering eyes at the remnants of my cookie. Frustration had caused my hand to grip it with so much force that when I opened my palm, crumbs of all shapes and sizes fell onto the table and floor.

“Emeline. Talk to me.” I spread both my palms over my face, wanting to just disappear. Life would be so much simpler if there was a ‘kill switch,’ something to ease my restless brain. Bagans removed my hands from my face and took my left in his own, thumb gently kneading my palm. “You can’t stay silence forever. You have to talk to me eventually. I’m unavoidable, remember?” I breathed out a laugh that vanished as soon as it appeared.