Her Song (Florence Pugh)

I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

The bright morning sun cuts through the curtains, illuminating the unfamiliar bedroom. My eyes flutter open as I groan quietly. I feel around the mattress, confused at the lack of another body next to me. I sit up and notice a note on the pillow.

Morning, beautiful. Sorry to leave you like this but I had to go to work. Call me later :)

I sigh and gather my clothes off the floor, stiffly pulling them on my tired body. I find my phone in the pocket of my jeans; unsurprisingly, the battery is dead. I leave the apartment, locking the door behind me. When I get to my car, the dashboard says it's 9am, which means Ash is already at the shop with Syd. And Florence has probably already stopped by.

I drive home in a daze, inattentively passing by cars and stoplights. I really need caffeine.

Upon arriving at the apartment, the first thing I do is plug in my phone. I hop in the shower as it charges, then brew some coffee to wake myself up. Eventually, I meander back to my phone—which is now fully charged—and check my notifications. I click on the most recent text, which is from Ash.

Ash: You were supposed to tell me if you weren't coming home, asshole.
Ash: At least you got laid thoooo
Ash: Assuming you didn't get kidnapped and/or murdered, that is.
Ash: Anyway, we're at the shop. Take your time.

Me: Thank you, Ash. Sorry for not texting. I got distracted.

She only answers with the middle finger emoji, prompting me to roll my eyes. I exit our chat and see several new messages from a random number. With furrowed eyebrows, I open the string of messages. What the...?

Guilt claws up my throat as I read. I feel like I'm gonna puke, my heartbeat thumping in my chest. Regret. That's what it is. That cold-hearted bitch named regret. I have no idea how to respond.

Me: Florence?

I stare at the screen for several minutes, chewing my lip in anticipation. It finally shows that she read the message, but she doesn't reply.

Me: Flo, please answer. I know it's you. Can we please just talk about this?

After ten minutes, both texts are read but there's still no reply. "Dammit," I mutter to myself, unplugging my phone and dumping my coffee in the sink. I grab my keys off the counter and leave the apartment, taking the steps two at a time.

My fingers tap anxiously on the steering wheel as I drive, checking my phone at every red light. Throwing the car in park outside the shop, I rush inside and stop in front of the counter, asking "Ash, has she been in yet?"

"Wow, morning to you too."

"Has Florence come in yet?" I repeat impatiently.

"No, she hasn't. I think you pissed her off with your date."

I groan frustratedly, slumping on a stool.

"Morning, Momma! Did you have fun at your sleepover?"

"Morning, Syd. Sure, it was...loads of fun," I answer dejectedly.

~

Around noon, I'm filling out some paperwork at the counter when a blonde woman sits next to me. "Hey, Scarlett. What are you doing here?"