I Don't Mix Business with Pleasure

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓣𝓮𝓷

                                      𝓕𝓵𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮

"Dad!" I scream. Sweat trickles down my forehead as I sit up. Landon must have carried me to bed. I look over and he's sitting next to me, a worried expression etched across his face.

"Hey- take a deep breath," he advises. His voice comes out so calm and collected that it's hard not to comply.

"My dad- is he really gone?" I ask, clutching my chest with my palm. I try taking a couple of deep breaths like he'd told me to. I can feel my heart buzzing with adrenaline under my touch.

"He is," he whispers, looking down.

He looks so uncomfortable with this situation and I don't blame him. He can't even handle his own grief with his mother. How's he supposed to know how to handle it with someone else? Someone he could care less about?

"No- this can't be... I just talked to him, Landon. I was supposed to see him soon. No-" I shake my head in disbelief.

I don't feel like I'm capable of crying at the moment. I'm in shock but I know the realization will hit me later. And my poor mom- she has to feel so alone right now. I need to check my phone but decide to avoid it. I know I must have missed calls from my brothers. I can't face them yet- I just can't.

"I know." he coos, studying my face.

"What do I do?"

"I called my dad. We fly back in two days. That's the soonest he could get us a flight. He wants you to focus on your mental health. He wanted me to tell you that he sends his deepest condolences."

"But fashion week- and my dad. My dad is gone," I whisper. A wave of anxiety rises up in my chest, and my shoulders and head go cold.

"Fashion week isn't important right now. There's always next year. How are you feeling right now?"

"I don't know- I don't know how to feel. I can't cry- I feel angry- very angry. I'm anxious. I don't feel like any of this is real. I don't feel like myself."

"You'll feel that way, it's normal. Is there anything I can do for you right now?" he asks, sympathy lacing his tone. His holier-than-thou persona seems to have vanished.

At least he's not telling me everything is going to be alright like people normally do. That's the last thing I want to hear right now, considering it doesn't feel like it ever will be again.

"No- nothing can take away what happened. Nothing you do can fix anything." I mutter.

"I know, I'm just trying to be here for you. I'm not so good at any of this."

"I appreciate it- I do." I look over at him and sigh. He knows how I feel right now more than anyone else would be able to understand. I hold some resentment for the way he normally treats me, but if he's willing to set his attitude aside- even for a moment, I'll take what I can get. I don't have anyone else right now. I'm in an unfamiliar place thousands of miles from home.

I put my face in my palms and roughly drag them down my face. I lay down on my side facing away from him. As I space out staring at the painting on the wall, my vision blurs with tears. I silently sob, reaching up by my head and clutching the pillow.

"Florence- do you want to be left alone?"

"No- I don't want to be alone right now."

"I'm not going to lie, I don't know how to handle a situation like this. I never knew how to handle my own grief- still don't. I don't want to fuck this up." He sounds like he's actually concerned about my feelings for once.