As predicted, lunch with Melanie was the last quiet moment of my workday. Unable to get hold of Sophie, Michael channeled his anger in my direction and buried me in mountains of paperwork to file. In fact, no matter where I looked, everyone in the office seemed to be in a bad mood. Doors slammed up and down the hallways all afternoon, drowning out the muffled sounds of voices yelling -- most of them shouting at me. By the time I got home, I was too tired to do anything other than fling myself onto my bed and fall asleep.
Unfortunately, that meant that by two A.M, I was wide awake and starving. Naked aside from my boxers and a pair of mismatched socks, I stood in my kitchen frying a grilled cheese sandwich and whistling an offbeat tune to pass the time. I pressed down on the top layer of bread with a spatula, stomach growling as the butter in the pan responded with a loud sizzle.
I thought about the text that Sophie had sent me around midnight, a rambling paragraph of misspelled words and disconnected phrases. She'd mentioned something about wanting to go on a vacation, which I told her sounded like a good idea in my reply. She hadn't messaged me back, which didn't particularly surprise me; based on what she'd written in the first place, I doubted that she was in any state to read, let alone type. Remembering what she'd said about not being able to drink on her medication, I sent her another text and warned her to take it easy.
Prodding at my sandwich, I willed the slices of cheese to melt faster so that I could eat and hopefully go back to bed -- or, at least stay up for a few hours and watch the Spielberg documentary that I'd downloaded the weekend before.
Rummaging through a cabinet to find a clean plate, I stopped when I heard a scratching sound coming from the door.
"Hello?" I called out, imagining myself as the slain victim of a horror movie villain. Though I doubted that Los Angeles was teeming with any vampires or chainsaw wielding madmen, I still reached for the spatula on the counter and held it in front of me like a sword.
A few seconds of silence passed, and just as I was starting to feel like an idiot, my front door swung open with an echoing bang. To my enormous shame, I screamed like a little girl, jumping back and dropping my makeshift weapon in one awkward movement. The spatula clattered against the floor and my heart pounded so furiously that I thought it might burst from my chest.
Instead of the murderous intruder that I'd been expecting, Sophie stood in the doorway, staring at me with a bewildered look on her face.
"Sophie, what the hell!"
"What was that noise?" she asked, barely concealing the amusement in her voice. "Was that you?"
Refusing to meet her eye, I felt my cheeks redden as I bent to pick up my fallen sword. Exasperated, I tossed the dirtied utensil in the sink and then switched off the stove's burner. "I thought we agreed that you wouldn't come to my place anymore," I said, folding my arms across my chest.
Sophie rolled her eyes. "It's the middle of the night and no one saw me leave the club." She tilted her head, bottom lip jutting out. "What? Aren't you happy to see me?"
"Of course I am, Soph, but--"
Lean arms wrapped around my bare waist and I felt my chest tighten. Using my body as a balance beam, Sophie kicked off her heels and gazed up at me. Her lips were warm against mine and, as I pulled her closer, I tasted something sweet on her breath -- whisky, maybe. She pulled away for a moment to study me and then kissed me again.
"I love you so much, Parker," Sophie eventually murmured, the words tickling my ear.
"Love you, too." I tugged at the waistband of my shorts and then held her at arm's length. "But, seriously, what are you doing here?"
"I wanted to be with you," she exclaimed, stepping towards me. Her toes were bright red from where her shoes had dug into her feet and they looked angry against my cheap linoleum floor. Swaying slightly, Sophie's gaze traveled in an unfocused circle around my face. "I miss you."
I traced my fingertips along the curve of her cheekbones. Sophie's face looked thin, almost as sunken in as it had been in January. Make-up filled in the dark circles that curved around her lower lids but nothing could hide the way her collarbones protruded from her body like knives.
"Do you want something to eat?" I asked, motioning towards my cooling sandwich. Sophie wrinkled her nose with distaste.
"No, thanks." She let go of me to hold her own midsection. "I'm not hungry."
"Sophie," I began, but then shook my head. She seemed like she was in a good mood tonight; was there any point in upsetting her? "Whatever."
Still eyeing me, Sophie shed her outfit in an unceremonious heap before dashing off to my bedroom. By the time I draped her short grey dress over an arm of my couch, she'd returned wearing sweatpants and one of my collared shirts. Although we weren't that far apart in height, she looked like she was drowning in the fabric. "You're so skinny," I blurted, unable to stop myself from commenting on how little she weighed.
Sophie glanced down and I couldn't help but stare at the way her hip bones pushed against her sweatpants' heavy material. Instead of protesting, she shrugged. "Did you get my text?" she asked, taking a seat at my rarely used kitchen table.
Careful not to burn myself on the pan, I picked up my toasted sandwich and began peeling off the crusts. "Yeah, I replied."
"Did you?" Sophie frowned. "Well, anyway, what do you think?"
"About you going on a vacation? I think it's a good idea."
A really, really good idea.
"No, about us going on a trip."
Surprised, I looked up at Sophie while she moved animatedly in her seat. "I want to go to Santorini, or maybe Hokkaido -- I can speak some Japanese, you know -- or even, like, Guam. I want to fly somewhere."
She spoke so quickly that the words blended together like a tongue twister. I couldn't tell if she was joking or not but as she continued her drunken rambling, the wild twinkle in her eye told me that she might be serious. "Sophie, I'm broke."
"So? I'll pay for you."
Clearly she wasn't kidding. "No."
"You always say no," she whined, and as she kicked her feet up and down, I noticed that she'd borrowed my last pair of clean socks, too.
I sighed. "I have a job. You have jobs. We can't fly around the world because you want to."
"God, you're like an old man. Always so serious." Sophie made a face and then groaned as a thought crossed her mind. "You saw my interview earlier, didn't you?"
When I nodded, she sighed. "Is Michael mad?"
"Well," I said slowly, "that's one way to put it."
"Great." She rested her head on the table and swore. "Can you tell him I'm sorry?"
"Tell him yourself."
Sophie peeked at me. "I'd rather not."
I didn't blame her.
"Tell him why I did it, too," she continued. "Tell him that I lost it. I didn't mean to, obviously, but I couldn't take it. I'm just so tired of--of people treating me like..."
"Like?"
Sophie licked her bottom lip, rubbing away the red lipstick that she'd previously painted on. Her shoulders slumped forward and her expression grew so despondent that I thought she was about to cry. "No one wants to become famous so they can be hated. Nobody."
"I don't hate you."
"Cool, one person out of six billion."
"At least there's one," I pointed out, but Sophie didn't seem to appreciate the attempt at humor.
Glancing around my living room, she said, "You know, I love being here. It's so much better than my house."
"Want to trade?" I asked, tearing off a piece of my sandwich and popping it into my mouth. The cheese hadn't melted fully but I couldn't muster up the energy to reheat the frying pan. "Actually, I forgot I gave you a key."
"Really?" Sophie laughed. "Did you think I was a burglar?"
"Serial killer."
We both smiled as Sophie stood up again to take my greasy hand in hers. "I still think we should go somewhere."
"Maybe when things have settled down," I replied, relenting when I saw the excitement dancing in her eyes. Her grin stretched so wide that I thought her face might split. "I guess I could probably save up enough money to go to on a trip over winter break -- a small trip, I mean."
Probably within a hundred mile radius.
"Why don't you ever let me pay for anything?" As Sophie watched me wipe my fingers on a dish rag, I noticed for the first time how rarely she blinked. I could see the vessels staining the whites of her eyes and her pupils were slightly dilated -- not anywhere near the size of Richard's, but enough that I noticed. I broke her gaze to look down at my uncovered legs, strangely unnerved by the intensity of her stare.
"Because I don't want you to," I said after a long pause. Sophie jostled my arm, unsatisfied with my response.
"But--"
"Are you sure you don't want something to eat?" I gently pulled my wrist out of her grip so that I could walk over to my refrigerator. "I went shopping the other day, if you're afraid of having to eat instant noodles."
"I'm not hungry," Sophie said for the second time since arriving, leaving me in the kitchen so that she could curl up on the couch.
I didn't say anything but with the image of her collarbones fresh in my mind, I ignored her and began putting together a meal that even she couldn't complain about. I retrieved a leftover salad from the fridge and dumped the chilled leaves into a large cereal bowl. With a knife, I diced a piece of grilled chicken that I'd cooked the night before and added it to the mix, along with a hard boiled egg. Frustrated with her for reasons I couldn't pinpoint, I plonked the bowl in Sophie's lap, followed by two different bottles of dressing and a fork. She frowned, handing me back the salad I'd prepared.
"I said, I'm not--"
"Eat it anyway," I said as I sat down next to her, noting the way her tiny wrist shook under the meager weight of the bowl.
The words came out harsher than I'd meant for them to and, despite the look of surprise on her face, Sophie began picking at the food in front of her. I did my best not to watch her while she ate, though she must have felt me staring on occasion. Whether or not she noticed, Sophie kept her head down until over half of the salad was gone.
"Thank you," she murmured, setting the bowl down on my cluttered coffee table. Her eyes remained unblinking. "I think I might've forgotten to eat before I went out."
"How do you forget to eat?"
Sophie's shoulders rose and fell, and I knew that was the only answer that I'd get. I moved closer to her and rested a hand on her thigh. "I thought you weren't supposed to drink on your meds, Soph."
"Oh, yeah, I know." She fiddled with a ruby ring on her finger that I didn't recognize. "My doctor lowered the dose, so it's fine."
"What about your headaches?" I asked, knowing that she'd complained about having a migraine a few days before.
"I don't like the way the pills make me feel," she explained, covering my hand with hers. "They make me so sluggish and I'd rather deal with the pain, to be honest."
I didn't know what to say, other than that it seemed like she had plenty of energy now. Sophie rested her head on my shoulder, and, knowing that neither of us would fall asleep anytime soon, I gave up on my plan to watch the Steven Spielberg documentary and reached for the remote control. Handing the clicker to Sophie, I said, "Here, put something on."
"What do you want to watch?"
I looked at Sophie, taking in her alert expression, and wondered how she did it -- any of it. How did she wake up every morning and go to work, knowing that people around the globe were watching and waiting for her to screw up? No wonder she seems miserable.
"Parker?"
I cleared my throat. "Whatever you want."
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A/N: Huzzah, I achieved my goal of updating twice this week. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter! To be honest, I split it up because it was too long originally so you can expect an update again by early next week. :)
I have a few people I'd like the shout-out this week...
@somerandomer2 has an awesome story that I recommend checking out if you're interested in something with an edgier vibe.
I recently nominated @Themcma to be featured through Wattpad Undiscovered and I'm confident that if you read her work, you'll understand why!
If you're interested in a fast-paced story with an unique plot and strong, well-written characters, then I'd encourage you to try out MagnoliaCherry's Watty's 2015 entry. :)
I have more people I'd like to give a nod to but I shall save that for next time. Please feel free to vote and comment if you enjoyed the chapter (or, even if you didn't, if you're feeling charitable). Until then, have a wonderful day! Xx