I shuffle to the door, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and my underwear. The pot of tea is still boiling on the stove, not yet ready for me to drink. I am worried about leaving it unattended for even a moment. Yet, here I am, three rooms over and out of earshot of the steaming pot. The muffled sounds of the Disney film I had been watching a few minutes ago can be heard over the persistent knocking at my front door.
"Coming!" I yell, in hopes of dissuading whatever anxiety the mystery person has about appearing at my home at this hour. Chuckling to myself, I undo the locks and draw back the wooden block. To my surprise, it is not some random delivery guy who mistakenly 'got the wrong flat.'
The sight that meets my eyes immediately shakes me to my core. My hands tremble as they slide down the frame of the door to rest on its knob. My firm grip causes all the blood to leave my knuckles. I swallow hard, praying to somehow get rid of the lump in my throat.
She, at the sound of century-old wood, raises her head slightly. Her pain-filled, crystal blue eyes find mine, and my heart skips a beat. I can tell she's been crying; Her swollen eyelids, puffy cheeks, and rose-colored nose are a dead giveaway. I scan the rest of her body, finally noticing that she's dressed in a tee similar to my own, some slippers, and a very thin blue raincoat. Water drips down the coat, reminding me of the tea that awaits me in the kitchen.
Part of me, a very large one I might add, wants to slam the door in her face. The woman in front of me doesn't deserve my time nor my sympathy. The smaller, but dominant side tells me to be hospitable—hear her out. Thinking of what Norma would do in this situation, I step aside and utter the words "Come in", inviting my disheveled bandmate into my home.
She hesitantly steps through the threshold, never breaking my gaze, my expressionless stare undoubtedly the cause of her uncertainty. She finally finds her way to her favorite spot on the couch, one that she is all too familiar with after countless sleepovers with me and the other girls. There had been many nights where she'd fallen asleep on the cushioned sofa after a long evening of clubbing. I'd watch, slightly smiling to myself, as she snuggled up with her favorite blanket, content with that image even though I secretly yearned for more. Back then, I couldn't imagine going weeks without talking to my best friend or not spending every waking second of every day with her. It's funny how three simple words can change so much.
Laughing at my misfortune, I wander through the rest of my empty flat leaving the distraught blonde to entertain herself, in dire need of a cup of tea. Before, I just wanted something to quench my thirst. Now, with the new arrival, I can tell that this is going to be a rough night. Fortunately, the tea is done and ready for me to pour into my favorite mug. It's a mid-sized circular cup embellished with a quote from Aladdin. It was one of my Christmas presents from a few years ago. I frown, remembering it was a gift from her, and proceed to chuck the painful reminder into the waste bin in the cabinets below the sink. I go for a classic red mug instead, one that is memory free and most likely hasn't been used by anyone before. As soon as it is nearly filled to the brim with the scalding hot liquid, I exit the kitchen and return to the living room area.
She's still on the sofa and clearly hasn't moved. Her soaked hair is dripping onto the back of it, leaving behind a huge wet stain. I scowl automatically, already dreading how laborious the clean-up is going to be.
With a sigh, I plop down onto my cushioned seat a few feet away from her, being sure to keep my distance and avoid her sad eyes. I am a sucker for those blue orbs. They make me unwillingly vulnerable to her every command; they control me. With that in mind, I cautiously sip my tea while staring at the dusty floorboards. I make a mental note to clean those later but realize I probably never will because of our busy schedule. In a few weeks, we're doing some promo for the new single. All that means is I will barely be home over the next couple of months or so.
Great.
Rolling my eyes, I set my mug down onto the table beside me and ease back into my spot, pulling the covers up around me. The television roars to life again as I increase the volume. For a moment, I almost forget about the girl who had shown up at my door in tears, drenched in rainwater. Almost. Loud sniffling directs my attention to the horrifying scene to my left. Her black mascara stains her cheeks and her damp hair is beginning to clump together on her forehead. I'm not watching a Disney film anymore. Carrie, maybe, but definitely not Disney.
"Per—" I begin, finally acknowledging her presence. I'm hoping that she can just say whatever's on her mind and leave me to sulk some more and watch the classics. I have no intent on letting her stay the night, or even for the next hour. She made herself very clear the last time we spoke. I am merely trying to keep my promise—one that she forced me to make by the way.
"Jade...I—I love you, okay?" She mumbles lowly, tripping over her words.
