1 year later
☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆
LAYLA FRASER
"Breathe, Layla."
"Breathe -"
"....Layla?"
My glassy eyes make the world look like a kaleidoscope of color.
I blink once, trying to ignore the thudding in my chest that rings in my ears. My exhales wooshes around me, and I'm feeling so cold.
Blue. Purple. Green. Red.
I focus on Grace's red sweater, blinking away the tears.
"Laylie? Babe, it's okay... Please just breathe for me -"
As gentle as a leaf falling on grass, her hand touches my shoulder, and I break down crying.
The guttural sobs that leave me are ugly. So ugly that I'm so embarrassed they escape from me. So ugly, that I believe they are mine. So ugly, I know they are mine.
"It's going to be alright. It's all going to be okay."
Her voice is so calming. Her touch is so soothing. And her presence is so warming.
Gracie Reed.
I look up at her, meeting her bluebell-colored eyes full of worry. It pains me. I don't want her to worry.
"Grace, I'm fine. Don't worry about me, please," I mumble as I hastily wipe the tears from my eyes. The makeup she had spent hours playing on my face had probably been washed off with all my tears. I probably looked like a mess.
I was allowed to look like a mess, but I doubt he would have wanted that for me.
He wouldn't have... He would have wiped the tears off my face while probably telling me to always remember he loved me and that just cause he wasn't physically here didn't mean he wasn't looking down at me from the stars.
I would wish on a thousand stars to bring my grandfather back to me.
"Of course, I worry about you. Your attacks aren't getting better," She sighs as she rubs a hand over my back to calm me down. I'm hiccupping, and I feel like I'm hallucinating. Random memories and thoughts flood my brain. it's as if I might just malfunction, scream, and die.
I don't want to die... but I might.
I think Gracie sees me spiraling because then she's grounding me. Two firm hands on my shoulders gently shake me so that I look up at her. My head lols before meeting her fiery gaze.
"Hey, hey, hey, snap out of it. Focus on your breathing. Focus on me. Look at my burgundy sweater. It's so soft, right? Focus on the floor -"
"It's so cold..." I mumble as I push my hand flush against the bathroom tiles.
"It's probably disgusting as hell as well, but don't focus on that," she says, and I snort out a laugh. "I'm trying not to at least."
"Screw you," I laugh with a sniffle, making a move to stand up. Gracie giggles as she takes my hands, hoisting me up. My legs feel like jelly, but I lean on Gracie.
I can lean on Gracie.
I have her.
When my grandfather left, I had nobody. My aunt was so consumed with sorrow that I knew she couldn't deal with my pain. I didn't have him either.
I think I actually hate him.
He left me alone without a goodbye.
And he blocked me on his phone.
2 months of what...
"Want me to order pizza? Half cheese and half pineapple?" Gracie asks me. "The pineapple side is for you, obviously."
"Keep your disgusting food preferences to yourself," I roll my eyes. "As if I'd ever want fruit on my pizza."
She walked me into the living room and onto the red puffy couches that she had gotten from her uncle.
"I still refuse to sit on those," I say, eyeing it wearily, resisting her pushing.
"I literally had it professionally cleaned. Would you really rather sit on the wooden dining chairs than this fluffy ol' thing?"
"I would be crazy not to."
"You just had a panic attack. Dial down on the 'tude."
I'm trying to breathe. I'm trying to distract myself.
"I am not showing any attitude," I counter as I walk into the kitchen, leaving Gracie to lie on her stupid couch alone. I was so thirsty. All my crying had depleted all the water in me. I was shaking with nerves, and I tried to focus on the cool tiles beneath me.
"You're a sassy ass, Laylie," Gracie sings as she walks into the kitchen, throwing her pin-straight blond hair over her shoulder. I raise a brow as I open the fridge to grab a water bottle. I focus on the coldness of the bottle and the roughness of the ridges of the cap. "Dude, we have to go out today. I think you and I both need a break."
I freeze and dread washes over me like a bucket of ice. I didn't even feel thirsty anymore.
"I'm not going anywhere," I state with finality. Gracie wouldn't dare push me. She might complain, but she would never make me do anything I didn't want to. It's one of the things I loved her.
"Why?" she exasperated, huffing like a child about to throw a tantrum over not getting ice cream for dinner. "Len is having a game night at his parent's house since they're in Italy. They have a pool table, ping pong table, and everything... It would be criminal not to go!"
Now it made sense... Lennox Fremont.
"You could have just said you want to go because of Lennox," I chuckle, leaning against the fridge to watch as Gracie's cheeks flush red and her eyes widen like saucers
"Girl, don't start. Len just happens to be the owner of the house. I'm going for the vibes, the people, and the games," she says, attempting to be cool.
"When was the last time or even the first time you've touched a pool table or any type of game table....?"
She rolls her eyes, leaning against the hall frame, pining me with an analytical look that I never liked.
"I'm trying to help you get out of this depressive rut you've been in ever since your Aunt and Uncle left for Merville again... they're right... you need to get out and make friends -"
I hate how her voice echoes around the kitchen. It mimics the voices in my head that always begging me to snap out of it.
Snap out and stop being this stupid, whiny, crying, depressed girl and go back to how I used to be. I used to be better. I was doing better.
"I have you," I interject defensively. I didn't mean to be defensive and pin her with a glare. For some reason, I feel angry. Why did she care so much about me making new friends? I was fine.
I was doing just fine and soon I'll be myself again. Hopefully.
I look over at Gracie, and we stand in silence. She's almost 3 inches shorter than me, and her petite frame seems to move the world around her. It's like everything, and everyone gravitates towards Gracie and bends to her will, her laugh, and her glittering blue eyes.
I had a friend crush on her for sure.
She looks at me with her head tilted slightly to the right, her gold-colored hair glittering under the LED lights of the kitchen. Her blue eyes are so clear that I wonder if she's ever been confused or unclear even a day of her life.
She was confused about me.
She takes a step towards me, approaching me like I was a stray cat that would lash out at her with sharp paws.
I hate that because that's not who I was. That's not who I was before.
"Getting out of your comfort zone will help you, babe," Her voice is soft, and I almost cry again. Why do we always end up in this place? Me crying, her trying to help, and then me crying again because the last thing I want is to let somebody else in. Someone else who would shatter me and leave me like I never meant anything to them in the first place.
"You're so cute, lovely, and interesting... I think other people aside from me deserve to be blessed with your presence... Len would be honored if you decided to come to his house and save his stupid house party...." She says, rolling her eyes as she mentions Lennox. "Hell, I'll even tell him to let you at beer pong since I know you're a fucking god."
I think she hoped I would cave in, sigh and tell her just how much Lennox truly deserves to be humbled.
All facts aside, I couldn't tonight.
The sky was too dark and there weren't enough stars that I could see in the city sky.
I don't think I could handle conversation tonight with random people I didn't have the energy to fear, love, or be pissed at. I had been drained and all I wanted to do was forget and sleep.
Forget him, them, her, me... and then sleep.
I think she sees it on my face and her face softens. Gracie walks over to me and for a second I almost raise my guard.
"I'll let you have the house for tonight... " she comforts me as she grabs my right hand, squeezing tight. I look up at her through my thick lashes and then at our hands. Her manicured nails draw circles on my hand.
"Thank you, I'd actually love that," I smile at her, making it sweet just for her. Gracie smiles back at me.
She knew the best thing to give me was space. Space cured me in time. We had been at this place before and all that ever worked was space.
"I hope you have fun at Len's," I chuckle passing her a teasing smirk. She rolls her eyes, pulling her hand out of mine to throw her hair over her shoulders sassily.
"I'm going for the promise of a good time! It's a mansion, Laylie. Rich people shit was meant for me..."
"The taking hand-me-over couches from sketchy relatives lifestyle was never from you," I look at her apologetically, and she nods, sighing.
"Honestly."
☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆
Why the hell isn't this working?
I look into the coin slot and it isn't jammed....
Not the vending machines robbing college students in this economy.
Irritatedly, I throw my hands into my sweater pockets, throwing my head back.
Why was it so cold?
There was also no reason for the apartment lobby to be freezing especially with the rent that Grace and I, along with everyone else renting here, pay. I would expect premium heating from a quiet furnace and leather couches to replace the sodded fabric off-white/beige ones. Having proper security and a doorman would be nice too... Obviously, Dom, the homeless man who loiters outside giving everyone dirty glances doesn't count.
Groaning, I half debated on kicking the machine or tilting it to get my Mountain Dew but who was I kidding... I wasn't built that strong and if the machine fell on me I'd certainly die with my student debt being plastered over my grave.
Grace would probably not even be able to afford a casket for me and I wouldn't even hold it against her.
I think it's because I'm still shaking from my nerves and my head can't concentrate on a thousand different things right now that I don't hear him behind me.
"Honestly, this is getting pathetic to look at..." A voice sighs from behind me and I jump. Too scared to register the clear insult, I look back with wide eyes connecting with a tall, lean guy. He is wearing an emerald green coloured jumper from some random streetwear brand that I don't recognize and baggy dark distressed blue jeans. He's moving past me to inspect the machine, crouching down to look into the coin slot where I had shoved my toonie.
Tsking, he looks back at me, his dark brown eyes full of annoyance.
"Idiot, the coin slot is for Loonies only..." he rolls his eyes with so much attitude that I'm almost taken back. "Look, it's stuck."
How? I literally checked and it wasn't stuck. But to be fair, it was dark and I couldn't see.
Crouching slightly to look inside the slot, I pull back sheepishly. He was right... it was stuck.
I look at him with an annoyed expression. All that aside, who was he to treat me like an idiot? He didn't even know me.
"Okay, my bad I didn't know," I retort which has him shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. With the irritation in his eyes and how dark and depressing it is in the lobby, I'm almost half convinced that he was going to pull out a knife.
"Here, buy yourself that shitty drink," he muttered fishing out his wallet and then pulling out a crisp bill. I look at him flabbergasted. Is this guy for real?
Did he live here?
"Wow, thanks... but no thanks..." I drawl looking up at him wearily and taking a step back. At my words, he still doesn't budge.
"Take the bill and buy it, or I'll buy it for you. You're holding up a line."
His voice is smooth and deep and for some reason satisfies an itch in my brain. I shoot a quirked brow with his words.
"What line? There is nobody here aside from us."
"There is. You, me, and the man I was 5 minutes ago before your stupidity killed me."
"Alright that's very funny buddy but you need to calm down."
He doesn't say anything but hold my gaze. His eyes look into mine as if he is trying to see what game I'm playing. Like I want something from him.
What could I possibly want from him?
I'm impressed that I don't break the contact but it's mostly because for some reason his eyes are clear.
He's hot.
"Move aside, let me buy you a drink," he says simply before breaking eye contact and turning to face the dumb, scamming, idiotic vending machine. He effortlessly slides the bill into the insert and then presses the button for the Mountain Dew. I'm stunned, thinking about how long he must have been watching me struggle enough to know that all I wanted was a Mountain Dew.
The machine crackles and hums before pushing the drink off the rack and into the receiving slot. He bends down from his 6 foot 2ish height. His long, tanned fingers wrap around the can almost making it look miniature. He holds the can out to me, his eyes latching onto mine as if trying to read and analyze my next moves. His eyes are so clear. So so clear.
"Is this how you buy a girl a drink?" I joke, holding eye contact before my eyes flash down to the can he is holding in his hands. My eyes look back into his which are lit with light amusement. Oh, so he can smile?
"No, only the dorky idiots who look like they've never had a wine glass in their life."
"I love my wine red. Red as your blood."
"You really thought you were doing something with that one," he says tilting his head, looking as if he was fighting back a laugh. Guys and their audacity is something I'll never understand.
I try to hide the embarrassment rising to my cheeks. Literally, how dare he?
"Move," I glare at him instead of defending myself. I grab the crinkled 10-dollar bill that I had brought with me from my pocket and attempt to flatten it out to insert it.
A warm hand gently wraps around my wrist before I can feed it into the greedy ass machine. My eyes snap over to the guys.
"Don't be stupid, just take it. I don't like this shit," he exasperated, holding the mountain dew to me.
Why is he so tall?
"Well, what if I say I don't either?" I ask, tilting my head slightly to the right, looking up at him through my lashes.
"Then you are saying you spent 15 minutes talking to yourself and looking like you were about to cry and beat up the machine for nothing."
"You're despicable," I glared at him. I can feel my cheeks getting hot and by the stupid smirk on his face, he knows he's getting to me.
"Take it. It doesn't make you a less woman to accept charity."
"Oh hell nah, now there is no way I'm accepting it," I shake my head and attempt to pull out of his grasp more dramatically than I wanted to. His hold on me is soft but it's firm enough to know that he seriously doesn't want me to buy it.
Why is he being so adamant?
It's a 2 dollar drink...
"Oh my god," he sighs irritatedly before releasing me from his hold and then holding my fist and unclenching my fingers. I watch with a slack jaw as he then practically makes me grip onto the soda can. "It's not charity if you paid for it."
"I didn't though," I tell him. My voice comes out softer than I intend it. The guy looks at me with a smirk and then I see the slightest hint of dimples. I almost punch him for that.
"You did but you scammed yourself by putting a toonie where it clearly says loonies only."
I exhale frustratedly.
"I bought it for you. Now move, I want to buy water."
And with that, he's stepping around, practically forcing me to move if I didn't want to be literally in his arms.
I didn't know I was staring until he side-eyed me.
"Can I help you?"
Sassy prick.
"No," I snap. My fingers wrap around the Mountain Dew can in my hands, the cool feeling grounds me from squeezing it too tight. I pivot and turn around towards the elevator. The guy doesn't stop me.
My cheeks are still flushed red by the time I step inside the apartment.