Do You Come Here Often?

Chapter 9

Gulf POV

Why hasn't Mew called or messaged me? I can't even think straight today. Usually we talk frequently throughout the day. A simple message here and there and we manage to squeeze in a short phone call whenever Mew has a break, but nothing today. Did something happen?

As I scoop another spoonful of rice, I glance back down to the table and my phone. Nothing.

I barely register that I put the spoon in my mouth as Mild chimes, "Gulf, you need to eat what is on the spoon. You can't just put the spoon in your mouth."

I glance across the table at him as he shakes his head and puts a spoonful of rice in his own mouth. What is talking about? I'm eating.

I glance down at my phone again and slowly wrap my mouth around the spoon. Why hasn't Mew called or sent a message? What is he doing? Did something bad happen and he can't call me?

I slowly take the spoon out of my mouth and my hand instinctively moves towards my phone instead on my plate. With the empty spoon still in my hand, I tap my phone screen.

Ah, my phone still has plenty of charge. It hasn't died, but why hasn't he called yet.

Mild clears his throat, and I reluctantly pull my attention away from my phone and turn towards Mild. I softly ask, "Are you having problems eating? Did you choke on your food?"

Mild's mouth immediately falls open as he blankly stares at me. After a few moments, he shakes his head. "No, I'm not choking. I'm trying to have a conversation, but you can't seem to hear me even though I'm across the table from you."

I tilt my head. "You have been talking? What.."

Buzz.

I immediately whip my head towards my phone as my heart skips a beat. A smile spreads across my face. He finally sent a message.

However, my smile instantly fades as I see no new notification on my phone. Does he not want to talk to me anymore?

As a heavy feeling washes over me, I slowly turn my gaze back towards Mild as he is typing something on his phone. Ah, it was his phone that buzzed. Dang it.

I slowly scoop another spoonful on rice, and as I slowly lift it to my mouth, Mild asks, "We are going to the bar again tonight. We need to try and work on overcoming your panic attacks."

I lift my eyes up to glance across the table. How can he even think about something like that right now? I don't feel like going out tonight. Plus, did he forget what happened the last time that I went to that bar? I had a panic attack. Since then, we haven't gone out. Mild, Mew and I would stay at Mild's apartment and have fun. Often, Mew's band mates would be there too, but we all enjoyed it. Why does he want to go out now?

I slowly shake my head. "No. I'm not going."

Mild glances up from his phone and looks at me. "Yes, we are. You need to try and get control of these panic attacks. What are you going to do when you want to go to one of Mew's concerts and have a panic attack before you even get in the building? Or worse, you get inside but have a panic attack in the seating area. What are you going to do then?"

Well, I have never really worried about it before. I have never had the desire to go see a concert since the incident, but after meeting Mew, I want to go and see what he is like in concert. If it is anything like the bar, I'm sure that he will be amazing. However, I already have a feeling that I'm not going to like all the screaming fans. I didn't like the looks that the people gave Mew in the bar. It was almost like they wanted to devour him which makes my blood boil and my chest hurt.