Collaborations

I am sorry

Her topic: I am sorry is a strong word. It can change a whole point of view in seconds. It changed my whole life in phone call. 

It was a normal day in September. I was writing songs, drinking coffee at Silver Dragon, and I was listening to music. My life was a simple one at least. I continued with my routine, and then a voice sounded to my right. "Mind if I sit there?" I lifted my head, my pale blue eyes meeting the mint green eyes of a young man. He looked to be around my age, maybe a tad older. He had tan skin and some black stubble around his chin. His black hair was cut short with a wave of spikes at the base of his forehead. A single blonde streak swept through the front.

I couldn't tear my eyes away. He looked at me expectantly, and I blushed in embarrassment from the fact that I spent a full minute staring without speaking. He probably thinks I am deaf mute. Or just weird. I cleared my throat and motioned to the metal chair opposite me. "Sure, g-go right ahead." He sat down with a strawberry caramel frappuccino in his large hands, and he flashed a pearly white smile at me. My heart fluttered in intrigue. "My name is Damien, what's your name?" I cleared my throat again. "Uh, my name is Wren. Wren Dackery." Damien smiled again, and it was a rush in my bloodstream.

"Well Wren Dackery, my full name is Damien Newberry. Sorry to crash your morning, but you seemed kinda lonely. I thought maybe you could use some company." I smiled shyly at the overly attractive man before putting my pencil down and shuffling some papers in a desperate pile, trying to pretend I'm organized. He began to scan the papers and coffee and iphone playing BTS. "What are you writing there?", he inquired. I huffed and pulled out some. "Just songs. I like to write them in the mornings and then go home and test them out in my sound booth, maybe get some songs ready to send to a record company." I was rambling about my aspirations as an artist.

Damien listened intently, nodding his head and sipping at his frappuccino every now and then. It felt nice to talk to someone. Once I had finished my own coffee, I looked at the time on my phone, and I realized that it was already eleven. "Oh, I have to go now, it was nice talking to you. Maybe we can do this again sometime?" Damien stood up, the metal chair sliding back and letting out a God-awful scraping sound, and handed me his phone. "Let me get your number, I'd love to hang out more." I nodded my head quickly, and we exchanged numbers.

Sure enough that was not the last time I saw Damien Newberry.

We ended up seeing each other almost everyday. We would meet up at the Silver Dragon Cafe and order our drinks and talk. I would write while listening to him. I learned a lot about him, and he did me. Things were getting intense.

Then they turned sour.

I noticed one morning in particular that Damien could not put his phone down. When he came to see me, he always was focused on me, so I found it a little strange. When I asked about it, he grew defensive. "Why do you care Wren?" I was taken back with this. "I was just curious, you're never usually on your phone." He scoffed at me. "Oh my God, sorry that I actually have other people in my life apart from you." That was sarcastic and it stung. Now, i'm not usually the type to argue. Confrontation is honestly not my strong point. But for some reason, I couldn't handle letting Damien talk me down, so I fired back.

"You think I care? I just asked a simple question. Whoever you're talking to must be someone you don't want me to know about, but I don't know why because it's not like we are dating! It's not like I like you!" Damien stared wide-eyed at me. I raised my voice, and it apparently shocked him. I was apparently loud enough to catch the attention of onlookers and cafe patrons. I grew flustered, and so I ultimately gathered my things and stormed off, not before spitting out, "Have a nice day Damien," in a sarcastic and venomous tone.

That night I lay awake. I tried working on my music, but nothing sounded right. I was loaded down with guilt. When I decided I was hungry, I got up and went to the kitchen to look for something to eat for dinner. I examined my pantry, but there were only bags of chips and snack cakes. I usually had mac n cheese cups to fix, but I ate them all up and forgot to go buy some. The fridge was just as depressing as the pantry. I sighed and put on shoes. Time to go out.

I walked the bustling streets with the moon and stars above me. Even with all the people milling about, the streets at night were always quiet and peaceful. It was easy to just walk and think. I thought of Damien and how I had blown up at him. It was wrong to turn so snarky, but it stung that he didn't want me to know who he was talking to. It's not like I like him or anything!

I froze in my tracks.

Oh my God.

I like Damien.

I groaned in frustration and kept going as there were people behind me. I kept mentally scolding myself. Why do I do this? I didn't want to think about it anymore, it was too anger inducing. I decided to grab a turkey sub from a local deli I liked. As I was walking, I passed a popular restaurant called Benjamin and Baguette. It was a nice little place to get some classic french cuisine, but I had never gone there before. I glanced in the large glass windows, but stopped and stared. The tears welled up.

Damien was in there, and sitting at a table with him was a brown haired woman. She had honey glazed skin and wore a short and slightly revealing navy blue dress with silver stilettos. She was a model if I had ever seen one. They were close to the window I was standing in, so it was no surprise that Damien had noticed me. He looked stunned. The model he had with him looked at his face and followed his gaze to me. She looked confused.

I started to walk off, and as I was about to pass the double doors of the building, Damien Newberry opened them and stood in front of me. "Wren wait! I wanted to tell you, I did, but I thought it would hurt you. I mean, I spend so much time with you, I didn't want you to be upset that there is another woman. You're my friend Wren, I would never intentionally hurt you.

I stared up at him, desperately trying not to cry. He stared down into my eyes, his mint green orbs piercing my soul. I was getting entranced when I heard the doors open and a feminine voice ask, "Damien, what's going on? Who is she?" I shook my head and answered her. "I'm nobody." Damien's eyes widened slightly. "Wren?.." I began to walk away, choking out a, "I have to go," as I went.

I cried in my pillow when I got home. Everything seemed to crash and burn around me. All because I grew feelings for a man that I knew was too good to be true. I heard a ring. I grabbed my phone and read the caller ID.

Damien is calling...

I answered. "Hello?" His breath sounded shaky, as though he had been crying too. "I'm sorry." I froze, my body stiff. Those two words. They hurt. I didn't want him to be sorry, I didn't like pity, especially not from him. In a few seconds, I made a decision that changed my life forever.

"Yeah. Me too."

I hung up. I went to his contact and I blocked him. To this day, I don't really understand what led to that being my decision. I went back and I grabbed a pen and paper and I wrote a song. I sent it to a record company and they called me saying they loved it. They wanted me to sign with them. I still get messages from Damien on social media. He even tried talking to be at the Silver Dragon, but usually there's a crowd of people trying to talk to me. All because of my song "Sorry". All because of my story.

Because of Damien.

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