You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb [ruby da cherry]

Solitaire

Tingles fizzed all over my scalp and I could no longer feel my arms. My mother and I hadn't spoken directly since about a month before I left for tour, and I had taken her number out of my contact list long before that.

"Yyyeah. Who else would it be? What, ya blocked my number?"

"Wh- No, I jus-"

"Anyway, answer the question, Cheech. Why'd I have to find out from Jane's fuckin' Facebook post that you were here?"

"I don't know, I-"

"Don't fucking lie to me! Once you get home from that fake ass tour, I'm gonna beat your ass so bad maybe you'll see how I felt."

"I'm sorry, Mom, but-" I was once again interrupted, this time by the soft beeping that signaled the end of the call. I couldn't even put the phone down, my entire body was frozen, my mind was racing, and nothing I could do would be able to calm it down. My heart wasn't far behind, I could feel the beating in my throat.

Finally, I tossed my phone somewhere on the ground, not really caring if it broke or got lost somehow. I got up to see if the room had ice somewhere, but there was none to be found. Sticking my head inside of the fridge just made me look retarded and made my nose hurt, so I closed the door and began pacing back and forth. That lasted all of two minutes, when I got scared out of my skin from someone knocking on my door. Without thinking, I opened it, and almost threw up. Ruby stood in front of me, his neutral face changing to concern once he got a better look at me. I turned away from him right as his expression changed.

"You okay, Veevs?" he asked, and I heard the door close. "You forgot your airpod."

"Uh huh," I said, my voice shaky and weak. My limbs still felt like they weren't even attached to my body, or like they weren't there at all. When I tried to move my hand up to my neck, it felt like TV static had replaced my muscles.

"What? What's wrong?" he asked, putting his hand on my arm as I felt for my pulse. I could barely get the words out, as if speaking were a near-impossible feat.

"I- I just don't feel real. I don't know how to say it," I choked out. Nice going, idiot. You sound like Forrest Gump.

He pulled my hand off of my neck, forcing me to stop feeling my way-too-fast heartbeat. That's when the tears started to slip out and my chest became tight. "You're okay, Vivi. You're real. You're right here."

"I don't know, I don't- it's like I'm about to die or something. Please, yo, I can't-"

"Shhh, it's okay. I got you. You're safe, you ain't gonna die."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know."

"But how?"

"Because... fuckin', no one dies from panic attacks. Even if you pass out, your body'll make sure you're breathing."

"I don't wanna pass out, what if- what if I pass out and, like, lose all my memory of the past ten years?! What then?"

Stunned, he looked at me for a couple of seconds before moving his hands from my arms to my back, enveloping me in a tight hug. "That's not possible. Aight?"

It wasn't his verbal affirmation that calmed me, but the sensation of his body so close to mine. Usually, it would make me flustered, but tonight it was helping me stop feeling all the awful feelings that had bubbled up to the surface and tortured me. I snaked my arms around his waist and held him tight, not giving a fuck if I seemed needy or weird or whatever else my mind would tell me. Then, the sobbing started. Thankfully, I was mostly silent, only making noise when my breath would get caught in my throat. It took me by surprise, not because I wasn't upset, but because I hadn't realized that I was stuffing my emotions down and not letting myself feel them as fully as I needed.