Under Control.

chapter nineteen.

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Nora had been a ghost for weeks now, and so much so that in his less than lucid moments, Albert has begun questioning if she wasn't just a figment of his imagination all along.

But even though he knows that she was always and remains very, very real — because he loves her and they all do and there's little bits of her left scattered all about the place, even without her nearby to tend to them — nothing solidifies Nora's realness more than the fact that since she's been gone, so has Julian, been.

The hollow shape of his roommate that was left in the wake of Nora is the most solid reminder Albert's got. Because ever since that night at the restaurant, and Julian's brief disappearance thereafter, he had seemed determined to put himself into a near constant state of numbness. And it had been manageable so far, for the most part — largely just by staying out of his way and letting him wallow in his own self pity while he drank to avoid the inevitable comedown that was awaiting him at the end of whatever fucked up road he'd been busy making for himself. But, unfortunately for Julian, life keeps moving, even when you're trying to slow it down.

The album was finally done, and everything coming up behind it was still coming — and, it was coming fast. And so right now, what Albert really needed to figure out was how to get Julian back to the land of the living.

And he had one decent idea about how to do it.

But, he was going to need some help.

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'I've never bought flowers for a girl I wasn't sleeping with, before.' That's the first thing that slips from Albert's mouth when Nora opens her door. And then, 'Well, apart from my Mom. Which, yeah — you're kind of halfway between my mom and my girlfriend, I guess.'

He can't tell how his clumsy joke has landed. Nora is, as she is wont to be, as unreadable as ever. But then she says, 'You mean like a friend? A platonic, non-familial, non-sexual friend?' And that's all it takes.

'Ohh, a friend!' Albert laughs and nudges the bouquet he's still holding gently against Nora's not-quite-smiling-yet face. 'I wasn't sure if you still were my friend. So, you know, didn't want to get ahead of myself.'

With that, Nora softens, then winces, before stepping aside to let him through her door. 'I am sorry about that, by the way.'

'Don't worry about it,' Albert sets his proverbial olive branch on the table and takes a seat. 'I probably deserved it.'

'You didn't,' Nora looks him flush in the eye before collecting up the flowers and busying herself with setting them in a vase. 'So, I'm sorry. Would you please just accept my apology?'

Albert doesn't want an apology though, doesn't need one. And so he gets up and meets Nora at the sink, then squeezes her face playfully between his palms, squishing her cheeks and forcing her to look at him. 'No. Nothing to apologise for.'

He finally gets a laugh out of her then, and even though he can tell that they both know he's not just here for this — to mend things between them; that there's something more to it — Albert revels in the relief of having her back for just a second, knowing full well that he wasn't ever going to be able to hide much of anything for long from Nora's discerning eye.

'How's everyone doing?' Nora stays where she is and so Albert does, too. 'Album would have to be done by now, right?'

Al nogs sagely, and then produces a disc from the inside pocket of his jacket. 'Yup. You wanna hear it?'

With his out of the blue offer, there's a flash of apprehension across Nora's face.

'I can, like, stand outside while you do if you want?' Albert knows what she's thinking — Julian's in there. He's on that disc, all of the things he thinks but won't say, tracked to music. And there's something intimate about having to hear all of that being said for the benefit of other ears, other people, and not to her — if, that is, the words are hers to hear. Which, Albert and Nora both know they are.