Now I'm peanut better without jelly,
Feeling like Ben without his Jerry.
Or Shaggy losing Scoob,
Rubix with no cube.
Who am I without you?
What will I ever do?
Who Am I- Jensen Cane
My conversation with Elliot plays through my mind for most of the day after our talk. Although I would rather mope in my self pity for falling into the same trap for the upteenth time, I have to film a video today for my channel. I haven't recorded a song since I got to London and I've procrastinated it for so long already, so I find it in myself to drag all of the recording equipment into the courtyard outside of the apartment building. It's not too windy today and there's a large tree near the brick building that makes for a good backdrop.
As I'm finishing up the setup for the video, I get a text from Elliot. I haven't heard from him all day, but I was curious if he would reach out after the weird ending to our conversation last night. I don't even want to look at the message though, because I know what it's going to say. He's going to apologize for hiding me from Cara, I'm going to be mad for a little bit, but then I'll go back to him like nothing ever happened. I've let myself get stuck in this cycle with him ever since he started dating her.
I put my phone back in my jeans pocket and press the record button on the large camera before grabbing my guitar and taking a seat on the stool I'd placed near the tree. I know my head isn't quite in it yet though, so I don't start playing the song right away.
I sit the guitar down beside the stool and draft a message in my head about what I'd say to Elliot if I was strong enough to give him up. I'd tell him that I was tired of feeling like an afterthought in his life and that I deserved more from our friendship than what he was giving me. Then I'd block his number and I would only focus my attention on the friends I have that prioritize me and my happiness.
If letting him in my life is bringing me so much confusion and pain, why am I finding it so impossible to let go?
"Hey," Harris catches my attention as he enters the courtyard from the main doors of the building. "Are you recording yet?"
"Um, no," I sit up straight on the stool and try to snap myself out of my thoughtful trance. "I mean, the camera is on, I'm just about to start."
"Heather said you were out here," he tells me. "I'm really only good with post production, but thought I'd offer a helping hand."
"Everything's set up already, but thanks for the offer," I say politely as I pull my phone back out of my pocket and stare at Elliot's name on the screen. Deciding against reading the message yet again, I drop the phone into the grass beside me.
"Well, everybody else is off doing their own thing today and I'm really bored in there listening to Heather and Maria talk about which One Direction member has the best solo career. It's obviously Harry. So can I at least pretend like I'm helping?"
"Sure." In all honesty, I don't really want company right now, but Harris has a sort of calming presence. Maybe it's the low, smooth sound of his voice or his laid back attitude, but I don't really mind allowing him to hang out here with me despite my bad mood.
"Everything okay?" Harris asks me slowly as he stands beside the camera, seemingly looking into the viewfinder to feel like he's being helpful. "You seem kinda off."
"Just some drama from back home," I shrug it off as I grab my guitar and try to ignore the pit that's still rumbling at the bottom of my stomach over this Elliot mess. "It's stupid."
"With Elliot?" he prods again.
I look up at him, looking confused as to how he knows about Elliot. I don't know Harris that well and haven't really told him about my life back home very much, and definitely never went into details about my complicated history with Elliot. "How do you know who that is?" I ask him.
"He shows up on your page a lot," he answers me easily.
"Oh. You've been watching my videos?" I don't know why I sound so surprised, especially because he has mentioned wanting to check out my music before since he's into music production.
"Yeah," he confirms with a slight smile before adding, "I mean, I gotta do my research on who I'll be living with for three months, you know? I've checked out a few of everybody's videos. I don't mean to pry, and I didn't really understand what was happening, but your comment section was very anti-Elliot."
"Things have just been complicated lately," I mumble with a shrug. "We used to be really good friends but then he got this girlfriend and she kind of messed everything up and now things are weird. It's kind of a long story."
"Maybe I'll get it out of you someday," Harris suggests lightly, his dark and narrow eyes staring right through me before he glances back into the viewfinder on the camera. "What's the song choice for today?"
I shift my attention back to the task at hand, resting my guitar across my lap. "Someone Like You by Adele, but from the guy's perspective," I answer him, looking down at my own hand as my fingers wrap around the neck of the guitar. Once I feel ready to start singing, I glance back up at Harris only briefly to say in a soft voice, "I'll need silence on set."
He mimics zipping his lips and then throwing away the key without making a sound.
After a long and slow deep breath, I begin singing the song along with playing the guitar.
How'd you hear that I'm settled down,
With another girl and I'm married now?
You know that my dreams came true.
Cuz she gives me things, I never got from you.
Old friend, I'm feeling so shy,
But I won't hold back or hide from the light.
You've turned up out of the blue, uninvited
Should have stayed away, tried to fight it.
Now that I've seen your face,
And now I'm reminded that for you, it isn't over
Now you know, I found someone new,
But I wish nothing but the best for you, too.
"Don't forget me," you beg
Don't you remember, I said
"Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead"
"Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead"
I wish I would have thought the song choice over better because it is a pretty sad song and given my already sad mood, it's hard to make it through the first verse without breaking. If Harris wasn't there, I probably would have, but knowing that I have an audience makes it easier to persevere and I'm able to finish the song.
However, once the last words are sang, I do find myself finally releasing a few pent up tears that I held back during recording. Trying to prevent Harris from noticing, or at least commenting, on these tears, I ask him, "How'd it sound?" as I pretend to scratch my nose and use the pad of my thumb to wipe the tears off of my cheek.
"Sounded good to me," he assures me.
Harris helps me film two more takes of the song while moving the camera around to get different angles that will look interesting together when I edit them into one video. The whole process helps me distract myself from the situation will Elliot.
"Thank you for your help," I say to Harris as we're carrying the equipment back into the house after we finish filming. The girls are still in the living room arguing over their One Direction opinions and barely even notice when we walk into the living room to store the equipment.
"I don't feel like I helped that much, but thank you for pretending like I did," he responds jokingly.
Knowing that I've procrastinated looking at Elliot's text long enough, I head upstairs to my room after everything is put away and I have my video footage ready to be plugged into my laptop so that I can get started editing after I look at my phone.
I sit on the edge of my bed and pull the phone out of my pocket, hesitantly unlocking the phone screen to face the 'new message' alert that I'd received earlier in the day. This time, instead of ignoring the notification, I unlock my phone and read it.
"Sorry about last night. Call when you can," is what the message says.
I don't really want to, but I don't want to spend the rest of my day wondering about what he wants to say to me, so I decide to call him.
"Hey, Jen, I'm glad that you called," Elliot is quick to answer the call. "I feel so bad about cutting you off yesterday, I just sort of panicked."
"I'm exhausted, Elliot," I tell him, my voice wavering with all of the emotions of sadness, embarrassment, and frustration that I've been feeling today. I've spent hours trying to distract myself, but only ended up building a dam to keep it all at bay and that dam is now crashing down now that I'm alone, and Elliot's soft voice is in my ear. "I'm so tired of this."
"Tired of what?" he asks dumbly.
"I'm tired of you shoving me to the side and only coming back when it's convenient. I'm tired of being a second choice and never your main priority. I am just tired."
"Jensen, you're never a second choice to me. You're my best friend," he assures me, his voice still soft and weak as if he's afraid of saying that too loud. I don't know if it's because Cara is nearby or if it's because he knows that he hasn't been acting like a best friend and doesn't actually believe what's coming out of his mouth.
I start crying, holding a hand over my lips to keep myself as quiet as possible, and then I say, "You don't act like it. You haven't for a while, and that hurts me so much. I would have done anything for you. Because I care about you so fucking much, Elliot. But the second things got difficult for you, you didn't hesitate to throw me out like trash for a girl you'd only known for a few weeks. You've never cared about me like I care about you."
"That's not true," he insists, getting louder now. "How could you seriously say that? After everything we've been through together? I've fought battles for you, Jen, I've sacrificed for you too."
"Not since Cara," I defend myself with a sniffle. "Everything changed when she came into the picture. It's all different now. You're different now, and I'm being stupid by trying to fool myself into thinking that things are how they used to be."
"That's not fair, Jensen," Elliot continues to deny everything that I'm saying, even though he has to know that it's all true. We've barely been friends since he chose her over me and even when we were hanging out, things felt awkward and forced. Maybe I should just accept that Cara really was the death of our friendship, and it's just foolish to keep grasping at straws like we are now. "Things were getting better until you posted that video saying that you had a crush on me, and then Cara felt like all of her paranoia was validated. I've been fighting for us, but she has a right to feel a little bit self-conscious about our relationship now."
"That was months ago, I don't feel that way anymore. I was in love with who I thought you were, not this person who gives up on people so easily. I think that me being in London is a good thing for me, I need distance from you right now and I don't think it's a good idea that we talk while I'm gone."
"Don't say that," he goes soft again. "I know I've fucked up here, and it makes me feel like shit. I hate that I'm hurting you, but I need to make it right. You know that I'm not some malicious prick who doesn't give a shit about his friends. I don't want to lose you."
"I just need some space." I've finally stopped crying and begin to wipe the tears off of my face, sniffling a few times as my nose continues to run. "Every time I convince myself that things are back to normal, I'm reminded that it's not the same, and it hurts all over again. I need to break myself out of this cycle of getting my hopes up and then getting disappointed again."
"Okay," he exhales on the other end. "I don't want to pressure you into anything, so if you need space, I'll give it to you. But I'll be here."
I don't believe him. The whole reason why I'm so upset is because he hasn't been there for me. I don't say anything though, because I don't feel like it would add anything constructive to the conversation and I'm tired of going back and forth. So instead of continuing, I just say, "Okay."
"Do you want to send me your footage? I can at least edit your videos still," he offers me quietly. I wonder if he's crying, or about to cry, because I think I can hear a familiar waiver in his voice. I don't want to listen to him cry, because it'll make me feel guilty for creating boundaries that I should have created a long time ago. I shouldn't feel guilty for taking care of myself.
"I can do it," I assure him. "I'm living with a ton of other YouTubers, so there's people around if I need help. I'll see you when I get home."
Quickly and unexpectedly, I hang up the phone to avoid hearing him get emotional. I sit my phone down beside me on the blanket and immediately feel suffocated by the thick silence in this room that suddenly feels too big, too empty, and too quiet.
I don't want to cry again, but if I stay in this room by myself I know that I'll start up again. I don't know how I feel about the conversation we just had, but I also don't want to give myself the time to process it right now.
Heather and Maria are gone from the apartment when I step out of my room and glance over the balcony to where they were just talking in the living room. I would ask Heather to hang out, but now that she's not here and her room is empty, I start walking toward Harris's room. I could text Heather or one of my other friends to see where they went, but that would take too long. Who knows how far into my pit of despair I could fall in the time it takes Heather to get back to the apartment? Time is of the essence.
I don't feel that close to Harris, but we get along and he didn't mind spending time with me earlier today. There's also that gentle, soothing quality to his voice and composure that could be very beneficial to my chaotic emotions right now.
Harris's bedroom door is open, but I still knock on it to get his attention before I peer in, afraid of seeing something I shouldn't see. However, he's just sitting on the bed, doing something on his laptop when I step into the doorway. His room is a lot messier than mine, dirty clothes thrown about the room and a few plastic wrappers sprinkled along the top of the dresser.
"Hey," I awkwardly clear my throat, glancing down at my shoes before looking back at him. "I don't really think I want to be alone right now and Heather is gone, so would you want to go to lunch or something?"
"I could eat," he confirms with a nod. Quickly, he finishes typing something up on his laptop before shutting it and then springing off of his bed. He has to fling a towel off of the pair of shoes he decides to slip onto his feet and I wait patiently by the door until he's ready to follow me downstairs.
"Did you take a look at the audio yet?" Harris asks me curiously. "I was thinking I could help produce it, if you want. I haven't had that much to do around here and everybody else seems so busy with their videos."
"Sure, I can send you the audio files when we get back," I assure him as we leave the apartment and start walking down the sidewalk. Just a few blocks away, there is a long street of restaurants that we can choose from to eat lunch at. Although, it is getting a little bit too late in the day to consider this lunch anymore. "I could use the help."
"Do you ever add instruments or modify your songs at all after recording?" he asks me curiously. "I mean, it sounded really good when you recorded it, you don't really need to add anything, I'm just curious."
"I don't, but my editor back home has started getting into music production to help out, and I've gotten some of them professionally produced. Not a lot though. I don't think it's ever really set in that I'm a popular YouTuber with the means to create really high quality stuff, you know? I still feel like it's just me and my guitar in my bedroom, but it's actually this big thing," I start rambling, which I feel a little bit embarrassed about, but I feel like the more time I spend rambling, the more I feel distracted from the hard conversation I had with Elliot.
"Yeah, you're a pretty big deal," he agrees with me. "I'm no expert at production, but I started school for it last year and I've been doing it as a hobby since high school. My dad is actually a music producer for a pretty big label in Los Angeles and he got me into it."
"That's really cool. My dad is a lawyer, and I always thought his job was so boring," I say with a small laugh. My dad is very passionate about his work, which I love, and he works really hard for it. But whenever he'd try to explain legal processes to me growing up, I'd run in the other direction. I've never really felt the urge to follow in his footsteps.
Harris and I agree on a restaurant to stop at for lunch and are quickly seated at a table. "I'm excited to get something to do. Tasha has been trying to convince me to be in a video of hers where she does drag makeup for me, and now I have a good reason to get out of it. Not that doing drag is bad or anything, but my face would break out so bad."
I think for a moment and then I say, "Hasha."
"What?" he looks at me confused.
"Your ship name with Tasha. Or Tarris, but I think they'll choose Hasha, it sounds better."
"A ship name?" he still looks lost.
"If you do a video on Tasha's channel, I guarantee you her fans will start to think that you two are a couple, or are at least destined to be together. And there will be a ship name," I warn him with a laugh. "It happens whenever we do a video with an attractive person of the opposite gender. For me and Elliot, it was Jelliot. For me and my neighbor, who was barely even in the background of one video, they came up with Benson."
There's a long silence as Harris takes in what I just said and then the corners of his lips start to turn up as he says, "Did you just call me attractive?"
"I'm not saying that I think you're attractive," I start to back track. Although I do think he's very beautiful, I just don't want to admit that to his face. Although I guess I just did. My mind also flashes to what his body looked like in that school girl costume a few nights ago and my mouth almost starts watering. "But you are conventionally attractive, that is a very objective and unbias thing to say. You've got facial symmetry, the jaw line. All of the things that fans look for in a new match."
"So if I did this video with Tasha, her viewers would think that we're in love just because of my jaw line?" he raises his dark eyebrows at me in disbelief. My face starts to turn a little bit pink as we order our drinks and start to analyze the menus in front of us.
"Okay, forget I said anything. I'm just trying to warn you," I lift the menu to hide my face, wishing that I wouldn't have mentioned the ship thing. I think he does deserve to know what he's getting into before filming any videos with any of the female YouTubers.
"So Jelliot and what was the other one? Benson? Were either one of them real relationships?" he asks me curiously.
"Not really. I had a crush on Elliot for a while, but nothing came of it. Beckett and I had a little bit of a thing, but it didn't turn into anything either," I try to keep my answer honest, but vague. I invited him to lunch to avoid thinking about Elliot, so I'd rather steer clear of talking about him.
"Why didn't it work out?" Harris asks. "Sorry if I'm being too nosy, you don't have to answer."
"There's just a lot of history between us that I couldn't get passed. He used to bully me at the beginning of high school, with some other kids. I tried giving him the benefit of the doubt, because I know people change, but it was just too much. We're still friends though."
"High schoolers are the worst," he says. "I got bullied a little bit in eighth grade, it happens to the best of us. My dad said it built character, I think he just didn't want to deal with eighth grade dramatics."
"Maybe the word 'bully' is wrong for what I went through," I say in a soft voice, but then I'm interrupted by the waitress returning to take our order. When she's gone, I add, "It's never felt like it fully described my situation. They beat me up so bad I was hospitalized once."
"Oh, shit," Harris mutters under his breath and then frowns at me, looking somewhat guilty. "I'm so sorry. Here I was complaining about getting called a nerd because I was good at science."
"It's fine." I shrug, trying to convince both of us that what I said is true. Although I have healed a lot from what happened to me freshman year, and talking things out with Beckett has helped a lot, it still sticks with me sometimes. "I wouldn't be where I am today without the things that I've been through, and it all worked out."
"But now you're friends with one of these people?" he questions me.
"Yeah, it's kind of a long story," I say with a shrug. Maybe my history with Beckett isn't really that long, but I don't want to get into it right now.
"Have you talked to Ovie since the Halloween party?" Harris nudges the conversation to another man who was, ever so slightly, part of my love life.
"No. I have his number, but I physically can't bring myself to talk to him after what happened that night," I admit to him, cringing to myself at the thought of how badly I messed up our moment in my room after the party.
"Honestly, I think it's for the best," he tells me surprisingly. "I mean, think about it. Would you really want to be with somebody who didn't understand the joke of singing 'you've got a friend in me' during sex? I know I don't know you that well, but I think you deserve better."
"Shut up," I say with a laugh, feeling slightly mortified that he's bringing up the story that I regrettably relayed to everybody yesterday. Although I did not start singing during sex, it was before anything happened. I never ended up having sex with Ovie because I passed out from laughing at my own joke. However, I don't need to get into details about that with Harris, so I don't correct him. "It's not funny."
"That is so funny," he disagrees with me and then, to my horror, starts loudly singing the song. A few of the people sitting at the tables around us start looking, and I flinch. Leaning forward to hide my face as much as possible, I want this to end but I can't stop myself from laughing as well.
"Oh my god, you are the worst," I mumble to him.
"I would keep going," he says after he eventually stops singing. "But I don't know the rest of the words."
"A tragedy," I respond sarcastically. "I think it's stupid that I keep doing embarrassing things, but I don't have anything embarrassing to tease you about. This is not an even playing field here."
Harris laughs and then shrugs. "I'm just a really cool guy and never do anything embarrassing."
"We'll see about that," I say with a threatening stare as I cross my arms and try to think of ways to tease him about something. As I'm brainstorming these ideas, I'm feeling somewhat aware of how much better I feel now rather than the turmoil I had been buried in all morning. Part of that is the relief I feel after getting everything off of my chest when I spoke to Elliot, but I owe a lot of the ease I feel right now to Harris and how easy it is for me to relax in his presence.
Although I'm grateful for the change in my mood, I still want to give him a taste of his own medicine and I'm going to give it to him good. He won't even know what hit him.