Something Good Can Work

Chapter One

I always enjoyed the Tube. It was one of the many daily moments where I could be completely incognito. I mean, it was easy to become invisible in London considering the sheer amount of individuals, but the Tube was peculiar because everyone explicitly refused to look at one another. 

'Santa Monica' by Jay Malinowski was beautifly playing on my iPod as I thought how wonderful the Californian sun would be in comparision to rainy London. However, I hated America and gallons of rain would not change that fact. 

I grew up in Montreal, French capital of Canada, until I was about 16 years old. I lived with my mother, and other than my friends, she was the only person I had in French ville. Life in Montreal was routine, and a clear life path had been drawn out for me from a very young age. I was going to go to McGill University, one of the most prestigious universities in the world, and be the first one to break the  uneducated spell that plagued my mother. Sadly, she passed away from cancer and that's when all my dreams fell apart. I had to go live with my father, who I had not seen in years, in Northern Ireland. 

From the moment I landed in Northern Ireland, I knew I was going to hate it. The Belfast accent was incomprehensible to me, and everything just seemed completely foreign. My fathers girlfriend was a bitch who would deliberately do everything to piss me off. She hated me from the start, even though I never gave her a reason to dislike me. 

I fondly remember my first day of school. I made friends quite easily, mostly because people were intrigued by the new 'American' girl who could speak French. Irish school was much more different than Canadian schools. People seemed less judgamental, and one's coolness factor was determined by their knowledge of music. I, for once, was cool. 

I met my best friend Kim, who now lives in London, in high school. She really is the only one I still talk to from those youthful years. I, unfortunately, grew apart from my other close friends because of a stupid decision I made a few months after graduating.

See, I met (dare I say it?) the love of my life in Belfast. His name was Alex, and we were together for three years. He was in a band, Two Door Cinema Club, along with two more of my friends, Kevin and Sam. After graduation, they decided to pursue their music careers. I always planned on returning to Montreal once I graduated and no longer needed to remain father-dependent. I wanted to go to McGill, but because I loved Alex, I chose to stay in Belfast while all my friends moved away.

The boys were constantly on tour, and all my other friends were attending universities all around the United Kingdom. I was lonely in Belfast, and no longer wanted to be subject to such solitude. Even though I had promised I would never leave Alex, I decided to break my word and move back to Canada.

My reasoning for doing so was quite simple. Alex was away, and it was unfair to me to sacrifice my needs for his wants. 

McGill was nothing like how I imagined it to be. It was shit, and Montreal was no longer home. I was more lonely in Montreal than I was in Belfast. The only person I had back in Canada was my gay childhood friend, Chris. We would spend every moment of every day together. We were completely dependent on our friendship to fulfill our happiness. 

When Chris announced to me that he was moving to London to pursue his studies, I was heartbroken. That's when I decided to follow him, and I applied to University Colloge London. I was accepted, and they agreed to transfer my McGill credits so as to not be behind.

So that's where we are now, in London studying alternative psychological approaches to therapy. I just recently started my masters thesis that focuses on music therapy as an alternative to conventional couselling as an effective treatment against common depression. 

I got off the Tube and walked to my flat in Maia Vale. I threw my bag on my couch and opened the telly,  only to see Two Door Cinema Club play on a repeat of Jools Holland. "Fuck," I thought, "they've gone so mainstream."

I annoyingly turned off the telly and proceeded to text Kim. 

Get your ass ready. We're going out for drinks tonight. Be at your place in 5. xx