They're Playing Our Song

Your Breast Friend

The next day was a Friday, and even if Nora felt like warmed up death and wanted nothing more than to stay in bed, life had to go on. But no matter how hard she tried, it seemed that life was determined to be an absolute bitch and kick her in the face.

It had started in the morning, when she woke up late. It had shocked her, because she never woke up late. She scrambled into her shower to change clothes, and walked to the kitchen and realized that Leo wasn't there, making coffee or breakfast.

Was that why she didn't wake up at the right time? Because she'd been used to Leo waking her up with the smell of coffee and breakfast? With the sounds of the piano?

"I can get coffee on the way to work," she told herself, walking around the apartment in her usual manner, putting her laptop, charger and a few things into her bag. She was just about to walk out the door when she spotted a red notebook and a matte plastic pen sitting on top of her kitchen counter.

She stopped and stared at it, taking in a shuddering breath and tamping down the tears.

Leo had left behind the original 0.38 pen he gave her, and from the state of the notebook's sides, he had carefully ripped out all of his notes from her red notebook. Nora approached the offending item and opened the notebook from the back page, and touched the places where he'd ripped out the pages.

It was a pretty bang on metaphor for the way her heart felt like, but she brushed it aside. She had to go. She needed to drop by her usual coffee shop for breakfast and coffee, and she had to get to work.

Work, which had served as the perfect distraction. Even if they were post-concert, Nora still had her usual tasks to undertake—meetings with teachers about their upcoming classes, a weekly huddle with the teachers about the status of the schools current equipment, budget meetings. She was a busy woman, and she was grateful for that. Her only worry had been possibly running into Celie, thank god she'd decided to sit in on the piano classes today to keep the teachers on their toes.

We still meeting up for the gym? It's okay if you don't want to go, Isabel texted her, and Nora mentally sent her friend a hug, wherever she was at the moment.

I'll be there. Leaving work now.

She'd come back to the apartment after work to quickly change to meet Isabel at the gym downstairs. And she'd just left the place when her phone chimed with a notification, one she'd set on the day she and Leo rebooked his flight.

Flight RP595 has departed.

Nora bit her lip as she stared at the notification.

He was gone.

Not that she was hoping he wouldn't be, they had already established that there was no reason for him to stay, but this was Leo Solano. Leo who ran out of a stage and jumped over a couch and kissed her like they were leads in a play. Leo who declared a popular, multi-awarded director "an ass" and danced with Nora at a courtyard in La Union even if there was nobody else dancing with them.

She groaned and dropped her head on the table in front of her. She really needed to get out of her apartment. Get it together, Nora, she told herself, shaking her head and clearing the notification. That has nothing to do with you anymore.

She'd just closed her apartment door behind her, jangling her keys in one hand and already thinking about the freeing release tonight's workout was going to offer when her phone started to ring.

Bertie Ching is calling.

Nora bit at her bottom lip and stared at the name on her ringing phone. Bertie had graciously volunteered to do the accounting for the concert, and was in charge of giving Nora the final numbers for the event. Meaning there was already one (well, two, Larry definitely knew already) person in this world who knew if Nora had succeeded or not.