Amour [h.s]

☼ one ☼

"You're back at it again"

☼ ☼ ☼

Amelie

"Why have you got bags at the door?" Was the first thing I heard from Leo this morning. Not a "good morning" or a "how are you today?"

Our conversations were short nowadays, he'd only ever speak to me if I spoke to him first, or if he was blaming me for something.

Today was my trial session, for the touring musician position that I had applied for weeks ago. I had sent a self-tape, and they seemed to be pretty happy with that. I got called last week, to be offered an interview and a trial session with the band. And if all goes well, I've been told rehearsals could start as soon as next week.

Leo knows this.

I've told him. He's well aware of what's going on. But knowing him, it's clear he didn't listen to me. He never does. Because, what use is my voice?

"I've got that interview" I state simply. I don't stop my movements, if I do, he'll know I'm terrified, every time he opens his mouth. I can't have that.

"What?" He asks, he puts down the coffee cup he had in his hands. Topped with whiskey, no doubt. "What are you talking about?"

"I've got my interview today. For the tour? I told you about it last week" I remind him. His face looks completely puzzled, as if he's never heard me talk about this before. I have. Many times.

"What interview? What are you going on about?" He acts dumb.

"Leo" I stop and turn to face him. My eyes find anywhere to land on but his face. Avoiding any possible eye contact with him. "The interview for the touring musician? To be a bassist on a European tour, I told you about it" I say sternly. But I'm careful not to sound too argumentative.

He looks at me as though I've just told him I'm from outer space. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes full of worry. It's all an act.

"Amelie? What's going on? Are you feeling okay?" He fakes concern. His hand lightly grazes over my bicep and that's all it takes for my whole body to flinch and step back, without even realising what I'm doing.

"I'm fine" I gasp out, suddenly feeling very overwhelmed. I told him about this. Why doesn't he remember?

"No, you're not. Have you taken something? Are you ill?" He asks going to reach for my bicep again. But I'm quick to walk away and sit myself down on the sofa with my head in my hands.

Maybe, I didn't tell him.

Maybe, I forgot.

"Amelie, darling?" He calls out after me. "Maybe you just need some sleep, yeah? Little dude has been keeping you awake a lot, you're not thinking straight" he tells me, but it only stirs up anger in me.