Wherever You Go [Katy Perry Fan fiction]

Chapter Fifty-One

Drowsy and exhausted, I rest my head on the car window, feeling it vibrate as we drive down one of LA's many boulevards. The precidure went a lot smoother than I imagined, a lot quicker also. It must have taken around thirty minutes for him to get everything he needed and send it off to the labs for testing.

I swallow, feeling the numbness of the back of my throat from the local anaesthetic. My head still felt entirely messed up, confused, unable to completely process everything that was going on. I clutch onto my bag with my shaky fingers, fighting back the tears as I watched the buildings of Los Angeles pass me by. It was a particularly hot day in Cali today, but not even the beautiful weather could bring a smile to my face. Not today.

As I clutch tighter to my bag, I feel the object that was my phone. A thought came to mind. A sort of, small inch of confidence jumped inside of me, and I pulled out my iPhone. My thumb scrolled through my contacts until, after what seemed like an extremely long intake of air, I allow my thumb to touch the contact's name. And it calls.

I sit with the phone to my ear for roughly five seconds. That's all it takes for me to pull it away quickly and decide against it. Don't do it, Katy. A voice says in the back of my mind. You can't hurt the people you love. Though for the first time, I manage to let those voices inside of my head fade away into nothing. I'm able to think a little. I allow the phone to come back into contact with my ear.

"Hello," a voice says on the other end.

My eyes close, stinging as they do. I lift my head off of the glass window, with the little energy I had inside of my body, and with the rest of that small amount of energy inside of me, I place my heavy head back against the soft cushion of the car seat.

"Hey," I only just manage to breathe out, but my voice is to quiet and brittle. "What are you doing right now?"

"Right now? Uh, nothing important, I guess. Why?"

My finger taps against the soft cotton of my Adidas tracksuit. "I need to see you. It's kind of important. We uh, well, me and you, we need to talk."

"Right," is the single word I get in response, before I'm met by a few seconds of silence. I take those seconds to requestion my decision in my head. "Well I have a few hours free?"

I nod my head as though they can see me, "that would be great."

"Am I driving to you, or?"

"No, I'm coming to you. I'm already on my way so I should be there in fifteen." I say.

"Sure, okay. See you in fifteen then."

"Yeah," I mumble back, and after three or four seconds, the line goes dead.

I slide my locked phone back into my bag, zipping it back up. Well, I may now have a fifteen minute drive to come up with all possible excuses in my head, to try to talk myself out of it, but I had already made the call now, there was no going back. This had to be done. I had to allow someone to be there for me, to help me figure out what the hell I'm supposed to do, and this person was the person that I knew would show me that love and support they always give.

"Change of plan," I say to the driver. "I'm not going home just yet."

The fifteen minute drive turned into one of twenty five. We pulled up outside of a familiar building where I had been not long ago at just gone three in the afternoon. My eyes closed at the same time as I took in a deep breath or air. But even if I decided to go back on my decision now, to tell the driver to turn the car around and take me home, it was far too late, as the figure that had been expecting me appeared through two glass double doors.