Conversations With The Moon (Bruno Mars One-Shots)

Marry You Pt. 28

That evening...

When five o'clock hits, you grab your things and rush to the time clock. You clock out and head to the parking lot, get in your car, and shoot Bruno a text as you pull out of the lot. He calls, and you chat on your way to your place, but upon stepping inside your apartment, your phone rings again. You step out of your shoes, engage all three of the locks on the front door, and then put your phone to your ear.

"Hey," you say generically, suddenly realizing that you didn't bother to look and see who's calling. Noise suddenly fills the background on the other end. You hear voices and the sound of several doors closing before the person on the other end clears their throat. 

"Mamita," Paloma says brightly in her almost accusatory 'mom' type voice. You laugh. The somewhat sudden reemergence of that old nickname she hasn't called you for years instantly brightens your tone.

"Hey girl," you reply.

"Did you turn into a ghost or something? I haven't seen you lately," she says. "You're not even posting on socials like normal, what's up?"

You walk into your kitchen, pour yourself a glass of water, then walk into your bedroom where you put her on speaker and have a sip.

"Alright, more or less," you reply flatly, "I haven't been feeling up to going out, that's all."

"BS." You hear a commercial door chime and a muted greeting on her end. She replies, "What's the real reason? I thought things were good. Earlier in the group chat, you said you hadn't heard from...him."

"Heard? No. Got things from, oh yeah."

"What?"

"He sends me coffee almost every afternoon now, and flowers twice a week. Most of them come without a card, but some do come with one. It's more of the same. Either he's acting like we're still together, or he's pleading for me to talk to him. He won't stop."

"Ew. It's been like a month and a half. This is an issue. That shit is hella creepy. I don't want to say what I've been thinking, but I think it's time. Are you sure he's not stalking you?"

"What? No, don't scare me like that!"

"I'm not trying to, I swear but," she pauses a moment, seemingly briefly greeting someone, "But if he capable of doing that, on top of what you told me happened that day you went out with your coworkers at lunch, stalking sounds like a definitely a possibility.

"I don't want to believe that he'd do that; I'm frankly surprised at his behavior. I mean all artists have a flair for the dramatic, I mean I know, that that is pretty standard but, I didn't think he would go this far?"

I'm sure you have enough evidence to go to the cops. You're going to go to the cops, right?"

"Yeah, I'll go later this week."

"Did you tell Bruno?"

"I'm gonna tell him on Thursday, that's the next time I'm gonna see him."

City sounds fill her background, voices, vehicles, and mesh into the common sounds of downtown LA. Despite her obvious movement, the two of you continues chatting and the connection remains stable. You begin winding down by tying up your hair and taking off your extra jewelry. As you start removing articles of clothing, Paloma goes quiet as her background suddenly becomes loud.

"Are you busy? I hope I'm not keeping you from anything."

"No, no I'm just headed to a class. I think you might like it. It's a heels dance class. It starts at seven-thirty."

"I, I don't know..."

"Look, this is what we're gonna do," Paloma says. "I'm gonna finish up my errands, you're gonna get some athleisure on and you're gonna pick your favorite, most comfortable heels. We're going to this class together; no man should dictate your movements."