𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚂𝚊𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜

Chapter-48

The day was off to a good start, after breakfast with Baba I was off to the train station. I had six hours to get in every shot I wanted, Jack and Lea were already at the location. The sound team was just done setting up.

Laurent and Mika were practising their first scene at the station, they noticed it was time to get rolling. I told them both not to worry too much, stay as natural about it as possible, we didn't have time for too many takes today.

"You can't screw up. No pressure though!" Jack teased me.

"But she's right!" Lea said taking her spot behind the secondary camera.

The actors didn't disappoint, flying through costume changes; years of 'so close yet so far'. We were already more than halfway through the planned scenes. I called to take a break, everyone was doing such a good job and clearly getting tired.

"You're doing such a good job Mika, I can't thank you enough for taking this project up." I smiled.

"Thank you for bringing such a beautiful love story to existence." She beamed back.

Everyone was back to their spots, shooting was on again. And it was finally time to shoot the scene I dreaded I most, the final goodbye. He wasn't here to say it was too late, he wasn't here to let her know he was waiting for her. He was here to watch her go for once and for all, to be gone. Away from this town, away from his life and heart.

I didn't expect to, but I found my eyes tearing up behind the cameras. The expression on Mika's face felt so real, the coldness of Laurent's eyes felt so real. Was I foreshadowing my own future? I brushed those thoughts away and continued.

With one holler of a cut, all scenes at the train station were done, we were way past lunch hour. Still a little awkwardly early for dinner, I decided to call it a day. Too many things were running through my head right now, I needed to sit down and collect those thoughts.

I went home, hoping to find Baba. But I had the house all to myself, she was at her appointment with her therapist. I treated myself to a tub of ice cream and watching cat videos on my phone. The door bell rang, I opened the door hoping for it to be Baba or Kenji.

But it was neither of them, the man who had the audacity to not return texts was standing at my door. I want to yell at him, I wanted to cry, I wanted him to say he was sorry. But none of that happened, he looked at me awkwardly, scanning me up and down.

Making me very conscious about the fact I looked like a mess right now, had it been any other day I would have been just fine. But it wasn't.

"Can I come in? So we can talk about things? Just like you asked." He finally spoke up.

"Could you have actually sent me a text? If not a call?" I leaned against the door.

"Look I'm not particularly proud of the things I've done and I did a lot of thinking."

"Good." I scoffed.

Something about his gaze shifted, there was a glint in his eyes I'd never seen before. "You're not innocent Emiko, you've done things too." He said.

"I already told you. I'm not sorry about anything!" I found myself saying louder.

"What's gotten into you?" He exclaimed.

"I haven't changed at all Charles. You have!" I pointed back at him.

"I haven't changed I'm tired." He sighed.

"Tired of what Charles?"

"Of all the reassuring. It's like you have no trust in me. You have no faith in us. I'm exhausted of reassuring you all the time that things are fine."

"Why does being with you feel like a crime?"

"You see it like that! No matter how much I reassure you if you've decided in your head that us being together is wrong, there's nothing I can do."

This one stung. It's like it struck me straight in the heart. It made made tears well up in my eyes, did he really think I was so fragile, there was a lump in my throat that I couldn't quite overcome.

"See! This is exactly what I mean." He said, not hiding his frustration at all.

"I am NOT made of glass!" I yelled, it finally felt like the lump was gone. "You used my vulnerabilities against me, and then you tell me that being around me is like walking on eggshells."

"Because it is Emiko! It really is! And I'm exhausted of sheltering you from your own-"

"Sheltering me!? I never asked to be sheltered!"

"I want a break. I need to rethink about things." He blustered, running his hands through his hair.

"You're running away. You're taking the easy route out." I laughed.

"Then what do you want me to say!?" He looked even angrier.

"I want to end things. You don't see me as an equal and you never have. The way you spoke right now has made it abundantly clear. No false promises. Stop lying to me. Stop lying to yourself."

"I don't know what happened but you aren't who you used to be."

"Nor are you the boy I fell in love with." I slammed the door shut.

I turned away and took a deep breath. I slumped to the floor. The reality of what I had just done started to sink in. Shit. No way that was real. Did I really turn my biggest fear to reality? I didn't deescalate things, I had worsened them. Worsened them to a point of no return.

A part of me stunned by the boldness I'd shown, another part of me wanted to cry and crawl back to him. Things were way out of control now. I composed myself enough to look through the peephole, he was gone now.

The way we had fought wasn't the sort that I could just text him and say it was all a mistake, I wasn't going to take back what I said. I checked my phone and there was no way I could take back things I'd said anymore either, I was now a blocked phone number to him.

And that's how it happened, on a random Tuesday evening in June all the summertime sadness I'd pushed through for years came crashing back. And I had no one to blame but myself. I couldn't find it in me to hate him. I didn't have the energy to.

I thought I'd cry inconsolably, but I didn't. I just felt a pit in my stomach that refused to leave. I didn't want to eat, I didn't want to meet anyone I just wanted to lay in bed for the rest of my evening.

I had to get myself together by the next morning, I had an entire crew counting on me. I had a romance tragedy to direct while going through one, does art imitate life or does life imitate art?