A Descent into Darkness

Young and Beautiful

I enter Veronica's house through the back door to the sound of her playing the piano and singing in the living room.

"Hot summer nights, mid July, when you and I were forever wild," her voice travels through the house.

One may not guess it if they didn't know Veronica her whole life, but she plays the piano like a prodigy, and sings like a Godess. It's been known to move people to tears. Though only the select few who have gotten to hear her play. She has never wanted to make a career, or a public thing of it. Not even in school, she played the saxophone in high school band. For her, piano is her safe place, it's what she does when she's depressed and needs to get something off her mind, which, if she's playing now, is probably why she texted me, asking me to come over.

"Will you still love me, when I'm no longer young, and beautifulllll," she sings as I enter the room.

She looks up at me, clearly miserable, though she doesn't let that slow her playing. "Will you still love me, when I've got nothing but my aching soul. I know you will. I know you will. I know that you willllll. Will you still love me, when I'm no longer beautifulll?"

Now she pauses and closes the piano, before leaning her head on it, and starts crying. "What's wrong with me, Nate?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, sitting next to her on the edge of the bench and pulling her into my arms for one of our friendship hugs. "What's going on?"

"Why does no one love me?"

I take a deep breath, having a reasonable idea where this is going.

"What do you mean? Of course people love you. Your family does, I do, Syed does, Liza does, all our families do, don't think you're not loved. Is this because that last Tinder guy stood you up?"

She struggles not to cry. "It's because all of them do. Either that, or they leave after ten seconds because they're intimidated by my earning potential."

"Hey, you'll find a good guy. They're not all assholes."

"Yeah well, so far you and Syed are my only evidence of that. And you guys are too close to being my brothers for me to ever want to have sex with you."

"True, but that doesn't mean we can't be there to support you until you find one."

"You mean you can be there to support me," she says, getting her blubbering under control as she sits up and wipes her face. "Syed, we both know he's in no shape to be anyone's shoulder to cry on. Which, don't get me wrong, I understand. That's one reason I feel so bad. He's been through something neither of us can understand, and here I am, crying that I can't get laid. It's so selfish of me."

"No," I reply, standing her up and bringing her over to the couch. "Selfish would be if he came to you for help and you turned him away because it was inconvenient. But you've always tried to be there for him. There's nothing selfish about worrying about your own problems or taking time to care for yourself. And now, he's finally got a shot at the help he needs."

"Yeah, he mentioned that thing with this doctor of yours. I don't suppose they're also a sex therapist?"

I laugh. "I'm pretty sure sex therapy is for couples that can't get it up. But I can ask if they could refer you to anyone. Maybe you should talk to someone. It helps me."

"Maybe..." she leans her head thoughtfully before turning to me. "What's the latest with Rachel by the way? If I can't find love for me, at least I may have been able to for my best friend."

"Oh it's... interesting. Definitely better than I expected when you brought her to your birthday dinner. Did you know I was fucking furious with you?"