Can you hear me?

If you can

Please… answer

I hate it here

I want to get out

Will you please?

Even if I'm stuck here

Please, talk to me

Your voice

Is the only thing

Keeping me sane


"Oh, come on!" Karen nearly roared. Taking in the situation, Ib stayed silent. It took about a week to actually set up a date where Karen and Ib could visit the gallery no thanks to flat tire expenses, a brotherly leech, an oil change, and a whole slew of other setbacks that cost them a week. To add insult to injury, it took another week to make reservations… again. The reservations Karen had made before were canceled without notice, so the girls were stranded at a cheapo while Karen looked for another hotel (Ib had a few suggestions, but further research proved them to be over the budget). Needless to say, it was unbelievably stressful and frustrating couple of weeks, even for winter break.

"A week. A week! It took a freakin' week to find another freakin' hotel! It's ludicrous! Just plain ludicrous! How many times does it take a week to find a stupid place to stay! Never~, nope, nada. Never has it taken a full, freakin' week to make some freakin' reservations for a freakin' two-day stay! Can such a simple transaction really take an entire week?!"

It's a wonder Ib still had her hearing intact after Karen's impossibly high-pitched screeching. Well, who can blame her? To make such great preparations only for the effort to go down the drain like… never mind, it's too gross.

HONK!

Ib snapped back into reality. From the passenger's seat, she reminded herself what was going on: the girls accidentally slept in no thanks to a blackout during the night, which messed up their alarm clock. Karen's phone had an alarm setting, but it ran out of battery during the night. How that happened… well, let's just say they're still scratching their heads over it. Further piling on the frustration was the fact that because of their impromptu sleepover, they were currently stuck in rush-hour traffic… which had come to a complete standstill.

HONK!

This time, Ib was aware of the source. Karen had gotten impatient, and was honking at the drivers ahead to move. First disastrous reshaping of plans that were later scrapped because of unforeseen circumstances, now standstill traffic followed by ominous-looking clouds and rain.

Wait a minute. Rain?!

"What in the name of-!"

Soon it started pouring. It was as if the heavens themselves had opened up and released whatever water they had accumulated. No one, especially the pedestrians who forgot their umbrellas, was happy.

"Oops." Ib suddenly remembered something she forgot to tell Karen.

"What now?" Karen grumbled.

"I just remembered. I watched the forecast today and…" Karen perked an eyebrow. "…they said it was gonna rain."

"… … … … Oh for crying out loud!" Karen banged her head on the steering wheel, causing it to honk once more.

"Sorry." Ib grinned sheepishly. One glare from Karen was enough to make Ib shrink back in her seat.

"… Well, at least we have umbrellas in the back. That's a good thing."

Only good thing about this entire trip, no doubt. Ib mused. Slipping back into dream world, Ib dozed off yet again…

Can you hear me?

Ib jumped awake, eyes blinking. Was that a voice she just heard? Or did Karen just say something? To ease here concerns, Ib glanced to the side where Karen was. Judging by her fixed, concentrated glare, furrowed brows and pursed lips, it was obvious Karen was too focused on the standstill traffic to even mutter a word. Not to mention the voice sounded male.

You can hear me, right?

This time, Ib was conscious enough to recognize the voice was not of a corporeal origin.

It was in her mind.

But why her? Why didn't Karen hear it? Or…?

"Karen."

No response.

"Karen?"

Still no response.

"Karen."

"What?"

Ib flinched a bit at the harshness in Karen's tone. She was angry and frustrated for good reason right now. Would it be wise to ask her about the voice now? It was worth a shot.

"Did you hear anything?"

"… Aside from you and the nincompoops on the road, no."

"'Kay."

Not exactly the response she was looking for, but hey at, least Ib knew it was just the two of them in the car.

And that voice.

Are you still there?

There it was again. Loud and clear in her subconscious. By now, Ib was debating whether or not to answer back. If she were to talk back, how would she go about it? Conversely, if she were to stay quiet, what would happen then? So many questions were swimming through her mind, yet they all seemed so irrelevant. Call it crazy or not, Ib had to have answers. And the only way to answer the multitude of questions was to ask the voice itself. Gathering up her courage, Ib muttered one small word.

"Hi."

Glad to know you can hear me.

For some strange reason, Ib smiled. It wasn't as nerve-wrecking as she initially thought. In a strange sense, it was actually comforting talking to him, assuming the voice belonged to a man and not a woman with a masculine voice. Speaking of which, despite sounding masculine in tone, it talked like a lady. Since it was brought to mind, Ib felt bold enough to ask a personal question.

"Why do you talk like a lady?"

Ah - erm, well…

It paused.

I just took to it. Besides, it's better to be gentle rather than rough.

Ib giggled to herself.

I - uh…

Another pause, another schoolgirl giggle from Ib.

Did I say something?

No answer, only giggles.

You're kinda freaking me out.

"Am I?"

Ib was almost ready to split her gut when she felt a jolt forward. She snapped out of her subconscious conversation long enough to observe her surroundings.

"Alright, finally! We're moving!" Karen exclaimed happily. Apparently, whatever was causing the standstill was now gone, and traffic could finally start up again. It was impossible not to notice Karen's wave of relief.

Is she your friend?

"Mhm. Not for very long, though. We've only known each other since orientation."

Ah, I see.

"Even so," Ib paused, glancing affectionately at Karen. "She's the best friend I've ever had."

I'm glad to hear that.

"Thank you." A sudden question popped up in her mind. One she'd been meaning to ask but couldn't remember until now.

"What's your name?"

No answer. Did she offend it?

"Hello?"

Still no reply.

"Are you still there?"

Another unresponsive moment. Ib sat there wondering, Did I insult him?

Oh dear. It must've been insulted because it didn't answer for a full five minutes afterwards. When it finally did come back, it was not in the tone Ib was expecting.

Dear me…

It was barely audible, but Ib caught it. It didn't sound angry, thank goodness, but it sounded so… so sad. And lonely. Why was that?

"Is something wrong?"

Another pause. Seriously, the long and increasingly frequent pauses were starting to unnerve her, if not slightly annoy her.

Nothing's wrong.

Finally, an answer. Ib wasn't convinced it was alright, but under the circumstances, it'd be best to leave it be… for now.

"That's good to hear." It was the most she could offer for comfort, even if it wasn't much. Ib silently cursed herself for not being able to offer more.

"Oh man, get a whiff of that." Ib turned to face Karen, who was eyeing a café on the other side of the street. Out of nowhere, a sudden aroma filled Ib's nostrils. To say it was sweet was a severe understatement. It smelled absolutely divine. It was as if someone took two of the world's sweetest flavors, in this case chocolate and vanilla, trimmed them of their sugar content, combined them, and created something akin to the ambrosia of the Olympian gods. Ib noticed drool on Karen's chin. Of course, that's not to say Ib herself wasn't drooling. The sweet perfume was too good to be ignored.

"Macaroons…" Karen whispered silently, albeit with a predatory tone. Ib couldn't help noticing the drool had increased, combined with the hungry hawk (or coyote) look in Karen's eyes. It was impossible not to realize Karen was dying to munch on a macaroon, whatever those were. It was also impossible not to notice the car's gradual lean towards the café.

Hold it. Was it supposed to be leaning like that?

I see she likes macaroons as well.

Ib snapped back into her unconscious chit chat.

"Mhm. Karen has a weakness for sweets. I sometimes have to pull her away from the snack aisle whenever we go grocery shopping."

For a few scant seconds, both Ib and the voice were laughing. It felt good to relieve the tension from before, where Ib thought she had insulted it by asking its name. Out of the blue, the voice's tone changed.

Ummm…

Hesitation. Okay, these silences were starting to grate on her nerves.

Are we supposed to be heading that way?

"What?" Ib hadn't realized before that Karen was slowly edging toward the café… in front of an oncoming car barreling from the opposite direction.

Eeeeeeeyaaaaaaah! Ib! Please! Stop her! Stop her! Stop her!

It was practically screaming its lungs out, assuming it has lungs. Nevertheless, Ib had to do something, anything, to get out of that car's way. An idea popped in her head, but it was dangerous.

"I know what to do."

Huh?!

Without a second thought, Ib jerked the wheel and swerved their car out of the oncoming vehicle's way. For a split second, there was honking and screeching of tires, and Ib swore she heard a shrill, high-pitched shriek in the depths of her subconscious. As quickly as it had passed, everything was back to normal. Sort of. It didn't help to settle down Ib's trembling nerves and bug-eyed face. What the heck was Karen thinking?!

"Um, Karen?"

No response. Just a blank stare ahead.

"Karen?"

Still nothing. Ib would've waved her hand jokingly in front of Karen's eyes, but they were still on the road, and she was still too scared stiff to move right now. Karen blinked once before turning to face Ib, smiling(?)

"Say Ib?"

"Y-y-yes-s-s-s?" Apparently, Ib was also too scared stiff to speak clearly as well.

"Once we're done at the museum, wanna stop by the café for some sweets? I could sure use a sweet treat."

"Y-y-y-y-yea-a-a-a-h. S-s-s-su-r-r-re…" was all Ib had the strength to mutter, barely enough for Karen to hear. The near-death experience was still vivid in her mind.

Is she always like this when she smells sweets?

"Almost, not always." To say she wasn't surprised the voice was as frightened as she was would be a severe understatement. No sane person would be smiling after a high-adrenaline experience like that, unless said "sane" person was a daredevil.

"Can I ask you something?"

Yes?

"What are macaroons?"

Yet another pause. By now, Ib was quite irritated with this voice. She'd had enough of the frequent pauses, and this last one was the nail in the coffin.

"If you're not going to answer me, we might as well end it right here!" The ire was clear in Ib's tone.

"Who're you talking to?"

This time, it was Ib who was pausing. Board stiff and upright. Had Karen heard the conversation?

"Ummm…" Ib tried to imitate her usual sleepy-eyed look. It didn't fool anyone.

"No one," she squeaked meekly. Knowing Karen, she wouldn't be fooled by something so obviously fake. Still, it was a good thing she was nice… sometimes. This was one of those times.

With a small shrug, Karen returned her attention to the road when her eyes lit up.

"Hey, look! We're here!"

"Huh?" Ib hadn't noticed they were so near to the gallery they were heading to. Thank the standstill, rain, voice, and the café for that. Speaking of the rain…

"Hey! The rain cleared up! What a relief!"

Corny. Just plain corny. Well, Karen wouldn't be Karen without a corny joke flying off her sharp tongue every now and then. Ib just nodded, smiled, and tagged along.

So I'll see you again inside?

See her again? What in the name of-?

"What do you mean?"

Thankfully, no pause, but there was a heavy, sad sigh from the other end.

You really don't remember, do you?

Remember what? Now that he mentioned it, there was an eerie sense of nostalgia about him. Was it just déjà vu? Thinking further about it, Ib did recall him shrieking her name during the café incident. Just who was he, and how did he know her? Where and how did she know him?

"Aw crud!" Karen's yell interrupted Ib's train of though.

"What?"

"No questions! Move! Move! Move!" Karen burst out of the car at lightning speed, not even bothering to look both ways, and barreled towards Ib's side. She pretty much threw open the passenger door in her quest to get Ib on her feet. Were they even- oh yeah. They parked. But why the rush? Checking her watch and the pamphlet on the glove compartment, Ib realized they had arrived just as the museum was closing. Oh dear.

"I guess I'll see you inside then, whoever you are."

Perhaps, once she was in the gallery again, she could finally have the answers to her myriad of questions.