euphoria | knj √

26. jamais vu.

"Please give me a remedy, a remedy that will make my heart beat again. What should I do now? Please save me, please give me another chance."

0:00 |───────── 3:47

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Rein stared at her phone, trying to calm her silent yet warring mind. Today was the day she would talk to her mom in what seemed like months. Maybe because it had been months.

She recognized that she hadn't shown enough decency in that regard, sending a few word texts here and there to avoid a conflict, an inescapable argument. When she went about it logically, it was necessary to tell her about the work that she had done for months now, but it was difficult nonetheless.

It wasn't as if Rein's mother wasn't supportive. She was as supportive as any other mother could be in a situation like this. But it never felt like she got the big picture of having a career in music; the touring, the sleepless nights, the holidays missed because of rigid producers. And Rein knew herself to be hot-tempered when it came to her mother, (especially when it came to her music) which lead to much-unneeded conflict.

And now, it would be far better to hear about the addition to her contract, stating she would stay for longer than the allotted time, from her own mouth, rather than her manager, who did not have a flare for softening blows.

Rein picked up the phone and, surely but slowly, found her mother's contact. Then, before she could question her decision, pressed the call button.

It rang five times before someone picked up.

"Hello?" the voice said, tone thick with exhaustion. Rein's eyes widened as she checked her watch.

It read 2 PM, which meant her mom would be answering the phone at 5 AM back in Austin.

"Oh, shit, I forgot what time it was there!" she exclaimed. "Go back to bed, mom. I'll call you back later."

"No, no, it's alright. I was gonna get up for an early morning jog, anyway," her mother said with a yawn.

"You've taken up jogging now, have you?"

"I may be getting old, but I'm not letting my looks go to waste yet." It was so mundane, so normal to talk like this as if everything was forgotten. It was as if Rein had really left on good terms.

"So, why have you called after so long?" her mother asked, a bitterness in her voice that was not there before.

"I, um, have to tell you something," Rein said, "and you're not going to like it." A pause, then a sigh, one that got across the feeling of dissatisfaction better than a thousand words could.

"As long as you're coming home for Christmas dinner, I'm okay with whatever you throw at me," she teased.

Well, shit.

"Yeah, that's the thing. I don't think I can make it," she said, then bit her lip in anticipation. After all, it was now the calm before the storm.

"You... WHAT?" her mother whisper-yelled. Rein heard bed sheets rustling and the sound of her footsteps against the wooden floor.

"I really didn't know-"

"You're not going to be home for Christmas, the one time a year you even bother to see me anymore? Your manager, who, by the way, who has been calling me much more than you have been, informed me that you were to come back at the beginning of December, which didn't really happen, did it?" her mother spat, the venom in her voice potent.