A Rose by Any Other Name

Chapter 7

It was a strange thing to find myself lonely but not alone.

Over the next week I didn't see Mike once. He sent me messages I didn't reply to but they were short and mostly asked how my day was. Fucking smiley face included. I filled my time with working more than I should have, and painting. I painted a lot. I was running out of space to store everything. My not quite finished canvases had started to sprawl outside my paint room. It made me think I needed to reevaluate my space.

I got home that night, chest aching in a strange way. I rubbed my chest as I toed off my shoes on the carpet in front of the door and looked at my apartment. It was as empty as it was before, glaringly mismatched furniture. And the walls - were they beige or had they yellowed? Even the dining table was wobbly without the piece of newspaper I kept under the short leg. I didn't want my home to look like this. I couldn't live like this.

After the accident, I had reluctantly gone with Mike to the bank expecting overdraft fees and a judgmental teller but I actually had a financial advisor who managed my assets for me. It turned out I was fairly comfortable. The boom the shop experienced because of our unique tattoos was enough that each of my workers were comfortable and as co-owner I was even more so. I even owned the patent for the specific magic tattoo spells. Owning a spell wasn't unheard of but it took more magic and control than most people had. Before my accident I was apparently quite the warlock.

So if I wanted to go to Ikea and blow thousands of dollars on furniture then I would.

I checked the time, Mike should be done work by now. Maybe he could pick me up and we could go together. I chewed on my lip, holding my phone in my hands and unable to press send. The way he had left my apartment a couple days ago had been awkward, in fact more than awkard. After he left, I had drawn random sketches as the night bled into day, and went into work like the walking dead. Chrissa had asked what was wrong but I hadn't been able to voice what happened, it was too embarrassing.

"Hello?"

I stared down at my phone realizing my fingers had betrayed me and called Mike. I put the phone against my ear and his warm, deep voiced rumbled comfortably in my ear, "Derrick? Hello?"

"Hi." I said stupidly, pacing around my living-room just a bit.

"Hi Derrick," Mike laughed suddenly, something like mirth bubbling through the phone, "Can I ask why you called, although it's nice to hear your voice." I heard background noise and realized Mike must have been with a group of people.

"Oh, sorry if I interrupted." It came out sarcastic even though I was being serious.

"You never do." Mike said softly.

"Can you-Can you come with me somewhere?" I got so tongue tied around him lately. It was so annoying.

I assumed Mike put his hand on the receiver and cancelled his plans with what sounded like his colleagues. They jeered a bit and implied Mike was accepting a booty call but he only laughed it off saying he wanted to save money anyways.

"I'm yours for the evening, Derrick." Mike said when he came back on the line, "What did you have in mind? Dinner? A club-"

"That's funny, Mike." I interrupted lightly, "I definitely don't go clubbing."

He snorted, "Right. Maybe not now, but I remember uni. It was actually crazy, I drank way too much back then. I'm glad I don't drink anymore."

"You don't drink?"

The background on his end had gone silent and I imagined Mike connecting me to his bluetooth as he got ready to drive. "No." he said in a clipped tone, "I drank to get drunk and it got pretty ugly." he breathed heavily, "You were the one who lead my intervention. All my other friends were hinting I was developing a problem but you just- you sat me down and yelled at me until your voice got hoarse." he laughed easily, "which is definitely the wrong way to do anything, The worst way actually. But I don't know. It was different coming from you. Everything is different coming from you." His voice got deeper at the end.