luck for the night - rl.

20. i don't even listen to taylor swift.

It was as comforting as it was surreal to enter my best friend's apartment building after such a long time. Up the stairs, grabbing my keys to open the door, and set foot on the doorstep.

She had been living here ever since she'd moved out when we were twenty. In those years, I had lived in at least six different places. I remembered helping Mel move into the place, how we thought that we would be able to get the iconic, zebra print settee that she had just bought at a vintage shop up two flights of stairs (didn't work, we had to ask Mel's hot, muscular new neighbour for help), countless sleepovers, how I crashed here for a few weeks when I broke up with my ex, how I always came over to watch sad romance movies when Mel's heart got broken again (yes, one time it had been the hot neighbour).

I hadn't been here in a terribly long time, though. It had been a combination of work, definitely when Inner Beauty started to take off, a global pandemic, and Mel getting into a relationship: Nora had been pretty chill, but she could be extremely jealous. Any time Mel would tell her I would come over from Bristol, Nora would invite herself to the hangout.

"Hello?" I said, wondering if Mel even knew I still had a key to this place.

I heard my best friend's voice from somewhere inside the flat. "Rylin! Come in!"

Right as I closed the door behind me, Amelia walked into the living space of the flat, which was a combination of the living room, dining room, and kitchen.

She spread her arms as she walked up to me "It's so nice to see you again!" My best friend's excitement put a smile on my face, as she wrapped her arms around me.

"So, what are you doing in London? Does it have something to do with a certain someone being in London, as well?" Mel asked as we walked into the kitchen.

My brows shot up, "how the fuck did you know that?"

Amelia smiled, "I designed their tour posters, remember? I had to put all those dates on so many different designs that I don't think I will ever forget them." She lifted the lid of a pot on the stove, an amazing scent escaping. I immediately recognised it and was once again flushed with memories. She was making my favourite dish: Ma Pu Tofu.

Mel's mother made us this dish on the first day I ever went to her house. We had been friends for a while, but she was scared that other kids would judge her for her parent's bad English, the different food, or the way their house was decorated, but I loved it all immediately.

Mel's mother started making it every time she knew I was coming over, even years down the line. And when her daughter moved out, she gave her a copy of the family recipe, so Mel could make it for me, too. I wondered if Mel's parents knew from how many hungry nights they had saved me, and my parents too, when they put the leftovers in a Tupperware for me to bring home.

"I came on the right day!" I took a deep breath, snapping back to reality.

"Well, I might have planned to just eat a salad," My best friend admitted, "but when you called, saying you were in London and wanted to come over, I knew something was wrong, so I decided to make you some comfort food." She stirred the pot.

"Really? Thank you!"

"In exchange, of course, you need to tell me everything that happened for you to be here, on a work day!"

I sighed, "The ever so curious Amelia Yáo."

"Yup, definitely."

"Well." I hesitated, Remington's words from our phone call earlier still stuck on my mind. No one can know. But, Mel already knew about me and him, and also knew he was in the city right now.