the art of letting go

two - promises

the art of promises

- - -

I took in a sharp breath as I placed all the cupcakes onto their designated stands, chewing the inside of my lip as I thought about the night before. Even though I didn't care, I hadn't been able to get any sleep last night. Every time I tried to close my eyes, I'd see the look of disbelief on Nico's face at the party and it transformed into the expression on his face five years ago, when I told him I was leaving.

Too many memories had been dug up by that one occurrence, and I spent practically all night thinking about it all. About how my foster brother joined a band, and they blew up. Next thing I knew, we were moving to LA so they could focus on releasing an album and touring. I should've been ecstatic - having never wanted to stay in Philadelphia or New York, not after everything - but I wasn't. A part of me wanted to stay. For Shay, and Frankie, Nico. Even Brayden and his dumb remarks.

And I guess that's why I chose to go.

Because having people that made me want to stay terrified the fucking hell out of me.

I couldn't afford to become dependent on someone again. My foster brother, Kareem, was the exception. He promised me a family and he gave me it, prioritising me above everything else. I owed him everything. When his band got that record deal and his boyfriend, Saint, decided to move with him, I couldn't stay. Not for people who could leave.

Kareem was the only person I had that I could rely on. I never had a father and my Mom was never sober enough to partner new sentences together. He was all I had.

"I saw Nico last night." I admitted after returning the baking trays back into the kitchen.

Hendrix Dexter was always known for her dramatics. Having a flair for the art, if you would. So it barely surprised me when she gasped, holding a hand to her heart as she stared at me.

It was funny looking back on what was only five years ago. When I first met Hendrix, I thought she was the most annoying person ever. She was loud, arrogant, and crude. She co-owned Dexter's Bakery with Saint. He ran the bakery in terms of the financial aspects from the West Coast when we moved, and helped out only when he came back to New York. Now, even though they were in London with the band, he was still constantly calling and checking in. I'd promised to help Hendrix run the place while in Medical School, despite my initial adversities. But she loved Saint and that love extended to Kaz.

I appreciated that. Kareem grew up in the system entirely. Saint and his friends brought him into their little family and made him whole.

And for that, I was eternally thankful.

Hendrix and I had gotten close in the last few weeks, having spoken about all sorts of topics that seemed absolutely absurd to anyone else. The only reason that I was bringing Nico up to her is because I knew she still remembered him, from all those times Kareem would kick off about me spending time with a boy.

I let out a soft snicker at the thought, if only he'd known what I'd been up to with the girls.

"What? Where?" Hendrix exclaimed incredulously.

I recounted last night's events to the blue-haired woman, watching as her expressions morphed from bemused to shocked when I told her I practically ran.

"Well shit." Hendrix breathed, eyes wide as she nodded her head. "Looks like you're not getting out of that one anytime soon."

"As always, Drix, thank you for your kind words." I deadpanned, "What's done is done. I don't understand why he'd even bother trying to speak to me."