~ It was (not) only just a dream 2/2

Dear Chlo-

No. Too formal.

My love.

No. I think she would tear up the paper as soon as she reads these two simple words. If I had been cheated by someone I love, reading "my love" as first thing, I think would only make me boil the blood not allowing me to go further. Although I haven't cheated on Chloe, that's what she thinks and so far I haven't been able to change her mind. So, the attempt is to let her know how things are going by putting them in black and white, since she doesn't want to see me. Nor hear me, she does not answer my calls, my messages, anything. I sent her dozens of them, but it's as if she put a big red cross on me, on us, she trashed everything. She has deleted me completely, and I still can't believe it. How did this happen? I don't know. "I wish I hadn't met you in college." Is there anything worse than feeling disowned? To feel like the best part of your life hadn't mattered? Like you didn't count for anything? As if your love is worth less than a grain of dust? I don't think there's anything worse. You are reduced to nothing, you just disappear. And I feel exactly that way, invisible. I never thought I'd be able to try something like this again, to return to being irrelevant. And instead.

She had noticed me from the very first moment, she had seen me. For real. And there is no more joy and pain at any other time than that, when someone sees through the cracks in your barrier and discovers who you are. Joy, because finally someone didn't get scared of the height of your fortress, but peered through the cracks thinking about what was beyond the wall. And even if you don't want to admit it at first, it's what you've been waiting for a long time. Pain. Pain because you think that once you let someone into your castle, you run the risk that he is just passing through, that he does not fit within your walls and that he'll go away, maybe even slamming the door, causing everything to collapse. And it'll bring you down too. However, you hope that it will not happen, you hope that your hospitality is enough. That you are enough. But sometimes love is not enough. And then you are left alone, again, with everything to rebuild. And you return to being a castle like many others, with the awareness that what made you special, what made you visible, will perhaps never come back.

I've found a bedsit in Bushwick, it's not the best, but it's the only thing that was available right away. This morning I went to get the last two boxes from the landing of my apartment, mine, no longer. Chloe wasn't there, I was sure I wouldn't find her, actually I wouldn't even know how to react if she was there. The scenes from last night are still in front of my eyes, and I don't think they will ever go away. Sometimes I think it's an hallucination and that all this has never happened, and I get a pinch on me. But it doesn't change anything. I'm still sitting at this plastic table, with a shaky leg, in this fucking room that smells of smoke and alcohol and seems like the typical place in the movies where people are killed. Very creepy. There is not even a fucking bed, just a sofa that has seen better times surely.

I can not keep my hand steady, I do not know how many sheets I have already ripped for the illegible writing. I have this continuous flicker since everything went upside down, if only just the hand was shaking. It's feeling like you're being run over by continuous, light but persistent power surges. How is it possible that we have reduced like that?

It's all so wrong.

I thought a lot about how to start, but nothing seemed appropriate to me. You know, I think starting the letters with 'dear' is just a way to get into the reader's graces, as the Latins say? Captatio benevolentiae. Don't ask me how I know it, it's one of the few things I remember about Latin class in high school. Or at least the years I've been able to attend. Yeah. That's what I want to talk to you about, about what happened to me before we met. Nothing easy, but I won't go on for long. You already know that I have lived my life completely alone, but I have never gone into detail and I regret it. I should have shared more things with you, but it hurts, it hurts to remember those moments, but now it's necessary. I will only stop at what now there is to explain, then if you want we can talk about it, I would and I really hope so.

You asked me who Tracy was. She doesn't really exist, it's nobody. The real name is Sabrina. She was the most important person I have ever had in my life, in my childhood, until I was 16. Then she left. It was an unhappy day, one of many, but certainly one of the worst experiences, at least so far. I had just left the institute where I have lived all my life since I was born, an orphanage, in a nutshell. Sabrina was with me in those years, she was my family, or like something that came very close to it, never having had one. I will not dwell on what we have been through together, not now. She was a sister to me, she is actually a sister to me, even though we haven't been in touch for more than 10 years. Some time ago we met on the subway, I was on my way home and I found her in front of my feet. I couldn't believe it.

Since then, I've been helping her every day to get a job, so that she could raise money and pay the debts she had with an old 'friend'. Unreasonable people. Nothing good. Drug rides and more dangerous things. I came home late, I avoided talking about it because I didn't want you to get involved in all this, because if they had ever understood where she was and with whom she was, they would have gone back to you in a blink of an eye, and I could never allow it. However, those people have eyes and ears everywhere, so unfortunately it happened, two days ago. They found her, they understood what she does and where she lives. When I didn't come home at night, it was because I was at her house, so I could figure out how to solve this situation. To be able to reassure her, calm down. I know I was wrong not to warn you, not to tell you anything and all this can be easily misunderstood, but I have not cheated on you Chloe. I could never do that, not even in all the next lives and I'm sure even in the lives before this one. I was next to her because she needed someone, and at that moment that someone was me. Well, it's me. I don't know now, you may well understand that at the moment, I have something else on my mind.

I didn't cheat on you. Please repeat it in your mind, out loud, no matter how. I didn't do it and I beg you, believe me. Believe in me, believe in what I gave you, in my love for you. Believe in us.

You know, somewhere I've heard that when something breaks, if the pieces are large enough, they can be brought together, glued together. But when they shatter, that's the real problem. And I think that we have shattered each other, because it's exactly how I feel now. And I can only imagine how you felt, how you are. There is no burden heavier than knowing that the person who inflicted so much pain on you is me, who love you more than how the sunflower loves sunlight, how the stars love the night, more than anything in this world. Nothing is comparable. I'm sorry I yelled at you, I lost my mind and I broke out. I just wanted to be able to explain everything to you, to tell you the whole truth hoping that you would understand that what I did, I did only to protect you. I love you, Chloe, holy God, I love you. I could tell you an infinite number of times and it is so strong that it hurts. Especially now, with my heart broken, my body empty and my mind full of you.

I'm writing on this yellowed sheet of paper, but it's actually like you're here, in front of me, with your eyes glued to mine. Your eyes absorb my thoughts, by day, by night, every second. And I miss the air because they are so beautiful that even if I just imagine them, they cut my breath in my throat. And I can't help but think about how much more beautiful they are in person. And it hurts. It hurts because I don't know if you will grant me this privilege anymore.

Sometimes we don't think that a hug, a kiss, or just a glance may be the last. We don't care. If I had known, I would have squeezed you a little tighter, kissed you until I took your breath away and I would have been watching you for hours, without ever getting tired, to be able to impress every single detail of you in my mind. And in that second, I would have prayed that this moment would never come, that I would continue to do these things as if it were the last time, never actually coming to the end. Do you think we could have all this? Do you think we could look into each other's eyes once again and find our love, find us as we were before all of this? Do you think we could do that? There's nothing I don't hope for more. Nothing.

I'm not gonna tell you I can't live without you, because I can. Life goes on. What I want to tell you is that I don't want to live without you, no matter how small the fragments are, I'll put on my magnifying glass to be able to collect them all and put them in their place. I just hope you to want it too. That's all I ask you, to listen to me. To make up for it. Please.

Probably this letter has not been worth anything, you probably haven't even come so far to read, but if you are, close your eyes for a moment and think about us. To what we are, or maybe now I should say 'we've been'. It hurts to write it as much as it hurts to think so. I hope you can see what I see, love. Just that. No hard feelings, no anger or disappointment. Just you, me, and our hands intertwined. That's how I imagined my future, my days, but sometimes the plans don't go as you want. Sometimes you take unusual detours or parallel roads destined not to meet again. I hope it's not our case, but if it is, wherever I go, at any moment, I'll be with my hand outstretched, waiting for the heat of yours, to make sure that those two roads cross again.

I love you, Chloe.

Yours, Beca.

I can sweep in time the tear that fell on my face which threatened to fall on the sheet by soiling it. I held back a lot of them, but this one was faster than the others and ran away. I still don't know how they form. I have shed so many tears in these two days not even imagining I could produce them to such an extent. I'm literally drying myself up. I don't eat from two days ago, if I have slept 4 hours it's a miracle, I just can't turn off my mind. I sincerely hope that this letter will give me a chance. It can move something. I know I shouldn't have very high expectations, not after all that happened and she told me, but I can't. Love does that too. It makes you hope even in the darkest moments, craves for a spark of light in the dark and makes you wait until you see one. My light is that of a sunset, the last hours of the day, just like her hair. How much I would like to pass my fingers between her locks to see how soft they really are as I imagine them now in my mind.

I rub my eyes with two fingers and stay in this position for a few moments. Maybe if I'll squeeze them out stronger once I reopen none of this has happened. But nothing, it's just one of my greatest desires. Just fantasy. I carefully fold the sheet in three and put it in the envelope that I managed to recover among all the paperwork thrown in one of my boxes. It's not very elegant, it looks like an envelope for electricity bills, but who cares. It's what's inside that counts. At least I hope so. The only problem now is how to deliver it. If I had to leave it under the door, it would probably end up under the bed and not see it. I could leave it in the mailbox, but Chloe never goes to empty it, if it were for her, it would burst before she thought it appropriate to collect the mail. Giving it to her in person, I doubt very much is the wise choice. She would scream even more and only the situation would get worse. Think Beca. If I can't give it to her, it doesn't mean someone else can't. Postman? No. It would take more time than it should.

Almost like a flash of lightning, an idea has just pierced my mind and as much as it can be the most suicidal and unhealthy, it is the most concrete and feasible. The fire-breathing dragon, the hound. Aubrey. If I give it to her, there's more chance she'll get into Chloe's hands in a matter of minutes, maybe hours, in exaggeration. Plus, she's the only person she trusts most in the world now, and if she gives it to her, there's more chance she'll read it than if she had to find it herself. I may not be able to do this, but I have to at least try. I get my cell phone from the couch so I can call her, but as soon as I pick up my cell phone in my hand, I notice several notifications and a particular email.

Dear Miss Mitchell,

We're writing from the Los Angeles-based record company Big Recording Machine. We work in collaboration with the label where you are currently doing your internship in New York and since you are about to finish that, we have been informed of your excellent path over the past few months. We would like to talk to you in person or even by phone at first, so that we can discuss any job proposals with our company. If you are obviously interested. Hoping for a positive outcome, please do not hesitate to contact us on our number as soon as you receive and read this email.

Kindest regards

BRM studio LA.

What did I just read? Los Angeles? Big Recording Machine? Am I dreaming? For a second, a slight smile curls the corners of my lips, almost as if it were out of place in a situation like this. They want me to call them, they want to talk to me about a future job. My God, it seems so surreal to me, Los Angeles. It's the place where I've always dreamed of going, building my career, and having such news so suddenly and unexpectedly is slightly destabilizing. Not in a negative sense of course. I just wish I could enjoy this moment of glee and happiness in another way. I wish I could share it with her. It is the dream of a life that could probably come true, and she is the only person I would have wanted to live it with. I want to talk to her, I have to talk to her. It can't end like this, although I imagine it's already over for her.

Mentally pointing out that I have to call the BRM later, I scroll through my contacts to be able to search for Aubrey's. I just hope she answers me and agrees to see me. Without thinking twice I forward the call, already feeling the agitation make room in my stomach. I don't know what will remain of it until the end, as far as it's turning and squeezing these days.

Hello?

Aubrey? It's me, Beca.

It's as if I imagined her change of expression at this exact moment, she almost certainly didn't notice the number was calling her. It's a few seconds before she answers me, obviously she's reflecting on whether or not to close the phone call in my face.

What do you want?

Um, look. Could we meet? I need to give you something for Chloe and I don't think if I had to give it to her she'd accept it in person.

What? No way. Goodbye Bec-

Wait Wait Wait. Please Aubrey. I wouldn't call you if it wasn't important.

I can only feel a deep breath, of those bored, stirred, being exhaled on the other side.

Involuntarily I turn my gaze upwards and pull my lower lip with my teeth praying to all the existing gods so that she can say yes. Say yes. Say yes.

Ahh... Okay. In 10 minutes, in Rodney Park. I won't wait for you, so you better move.

I don't even have time to answer her, that I don't hear any more noise from the other end of the phone and I notice that the screen is completely dark. I've always known that Aubrey didn't like me so much, especially now, but maybe she should review the manual of good manners. What the hell? However now that's the least of my problems, well, I don't care at all. I just have to figure out how to get to Rodney Park in 10 minutes from here, walking. Flying? Not an option. Maybe if I'm lucky enough, I can catch a taxi. If You're up there, give me some lucky just for once.

I get up immediately from my chair and rush out of the apartment without even worrying about locking the door. Not that there's much to steal. As soon as I get to the street I see a taxi approaching the sidewalk to retrieve a gentleman with a little girl. I feel sorry for them but that taxi is mine. I rush to the rear door, catching by surprise and moving them by force, in order to enter.

Hey, what th-?

It's an emergency, my wife is about to give birth! Excuse me!

I scream to the gentleman with my head out of the window as the taxi continues moving down the road without knowing exactly where to go. As soon as I got in, I just told the driver to keep going without stopping for any reason in the world. I can see the gentleman from whom I stole the taxi shaking his head but with a slight smile as he talks to the baby girl. The pregnant woman is always the perfect excuse for everything.

Um, miss, where do you want me to take you?

Oh, yes. In Rodney Park. As fast as you can. Hurry up. And no, no one is giving birth, just go.

I feel the taxi increase in speed and overtake the slower cars in a blink of an eye. We're going down Broadway, which is the fastest way to get there, I just hope that the traffic stays smooth and smooth all the way. Damn it, I'll never make it.

Can't it go any faster?

Miss I can't, I'm already at my limit.

I give you three times what I should give you, but you have to increase the speed so I can get there in 5 minutes. And that's not a negotiation. Now push your damn foot on the accelerator.

I've never been able to bark orders but this case is an exception. The driver opened his eyes for a few moments certainly not expecting an exit like this, and then concentrate again on the road and push the accelerator with more force. Maybe I should try speaking more often in a loud and firm voice. I see people listening to me. Unfortunately, however, we get to a traffic jam that we can't get past even if we fly, something that goes right, never happens.

How long before we get to Rodney Park?

A few minutes Miss, if only there were not this traffic jam.

How much walking? More or less.

I notice how the taxi driver is looking at me with questioning air from the rearview mirror. What is it? It's a simple question, I didn't ask for the moon.

About 5 minutes miss. But I don't know if it's-

Here you go. Keep the change. You've been very great.

I don't give him time to answer me because I'm in the middle of the cars stuck in the street, running with my breath to reach the meeting point with Aubrey. I just hope all this was worth it. That my lungs collapsed in a few seconds was worth it. My God, I really need an oxygen tank right now.

After about 5 minutes I arrive at the park dripping with sweat from my forehead and with several viscera left on the street, and I see a blond head sitting on a bench with all the air of someone who has bothered to wait. It's her.

Aubrey!

I call her with that little bit of breath that has remained in my throat and I notice immediately how she gets up and comes to meet me, surely she will be in a hurry to leave.

I'm bent in two with my hands on my knees trying to recover some 'air because as far as I know, I could fall to the ground in a few seconds, unconscious.

I don't have all day, Beca.

A pain in the ass. As always.

I... Um, Yeah, just one sec.. excuse me. Woah. Uh ah... I have to give you this. Please, give it to Chloe.

I look her in the eyes and I can only see the coldness of her look, the disgust maybe? Almost as if I were a rejection to talk to. Holy God. Damn prejudices she has against me. She gazes between me and the envelope in my hand, reluctantly, but eventually she takes it and squeezes it with two hands.

I always knew that you could not be worth of trust.

I don't know if it's because I'm tired, if I'm going to collapse on my helpless knees in a little while, or because I've collected so much pain in the last few hours, that although her statement is not one of the prettiest I've ever been told, at the moment it's as if she's been talking to the wind. Probably from here in 5 minutes the anger of being judged continuously by her will make room inside me, but for now, I just stare at her wondering what I really did wrong to get such consideration from her. I never understood it. I don't think I'll ever really understand it. After a few moments, without even saying goodbye, I see her turning around and leaving with my letter still in her hands. I don't care if she's mad at me, I just want Chloe to read what I wrote to her. I just hope to get another chance, I can't let it all end like this.

I look around and I can't help but think that I have never actually been in this park. It's kinda quiet, there are only a few people, mostly with their own dogs for the night walk. Among my thoughts, the email I received from the LA record company appears again, I should call them. But not now, not until I understand how the situation with Chloe will end. I can't make plans to leave without knowing what will happen to her and me. It's a great opportunity, probably if I had to call them too late I could have lost it, but for now I have more important things to think about. It would be a dream to take this step with Chloe, but now things are not exactly as I would have expected them to be, so.

I decide to go home, finally my lungs have started working again as they should. It will be a long walk, but it doesn't matter. I'll have to spend the evening somehow.

The first street lamps light up, the cars are running fast now. Obviously, the previous traffic jam was cleared out in a few minutes. Usual luck, of course. I see people coming back from work, who with their bags well tight in the hand, or with the backpack firmly on their shoulders, seem to walk with blinkers, as if they did not notice what surrounds them. However, I can't help but think about how much they give the impression of being so alone. Or it's just a reflection of what I'm actually feeling. I have experienced loneliness many times during my life, if not all my life. But this time it's different. It's like when you leave your city, you miss it. You know you spent the most beautiful years of your life there and you're also aware that you're probably not going back. So all you do is keep your memories vivid, so you don't miss a single detail. But after all, in the most remote part of your mind, you can't help but feel the sadness and loneliness you feel when you leave what has belonged to you for so long. Sometimes I think that understanding what it means not to live in solitude and then find yourself alone once again, it is much worse than living a life completely alone. Because you know what you have lost, what you are missing, and I believe there are few things more painful than this.

You're alone, left out in the cold..

Not realizing it, I whisper with my head down, these few words with a slight, uncertain melody. I don't know where they came from, sometimes it happens to me, it's as if they were in front of my eyes. I think it would be a good start for a song, but now is not the time to think about it. Just as they have crossed my thoughts, they just as quickly disappear, leaving room only for the emptiness I feel. I keep walking slowly, as if I never really want to get home, if that's what you can call it. I just want to turn around and come back to her. In that case I would run the risk of losing even what remains of my lungs to reach her as quickly as possible. I wonder when she will read it. I just hope I have an answer.

I have almost reached the end of the sidewalk and without paying much attention to those who arrive from the right and left I decide to cross the road. I'm not invisible, and in addition it's a secondary and small crossroads, they'll see me.

I only hear a noise, and someone call 'Miss' but honestly I don't pay much attention to it. It's as if I'm in a bubble, and all the outside noises get to me muffled. Like when you have your headphones and you don't feel shit about what's around you. Only now I hear something, a bicycle wheel that has gotten in my way and I'm muzzled on the ground with my arms outstretched long on the asphalt.

Pov Beca (our days)

Aah!

I throw a scream and I get up sweaty, panting and not understanding what's going on. What the hell? A moment ago I was with my face on the asphalt and now I'm on the couch? Wait, was it all a dream? More like a nightmare.

As if a lightning bolt had struck me at this moment, I opened my eyes wide, realizing that it was neither a dream nor a nightmare. It's a memory. It really happened. That's what I missed. Oh, my God. I'm shocked. Chloe. She and I were together, that's why I felt there was something different. She left me, she didn't look for me anymore, despite the letter. And now we are nothing. I don't know if I would have preferred to remember it or not. Maybe not. As if I had triggered an avalanche, all the memories of these last few days, the news party for Chloe's wedding, Chicago, Sabrina's case, is as if there was a film in front of my eyes that is running fast. Now I remember the moment before my fainting. I had just left the 50s café where she had taken me. I was waiting for a taxi, or the Uber, I don't remember exactly but immediately after a few moments I found her behind me.

She should have asked me one last thing. What? What the fuck was she supposed to ask me yet? I told her that I loved her, I explained everything to her, damn it. Calm Beca. You can't get upset. I don't want to get another stroke, that's not what I need right now. I forcefully move the blanket from my legs and sit down on the couch, carrying my head in my hands. I feel so much anger that I could break something. I was complaining about having blackouts, but maybe if I had known what there was to remember, I would have preferred to have my mind like a cheese rather than re-live everything that happened a second time. It was so vivid, I think I really cried because my face is wet and my eyes hurt. As if I'd been squeezing them together all the time. I thought I just liked her, that it was my impression until a few hours ago, but it is not so. I don't like her, I... holy God. I still love her and I'm so angry with her now. I hold my hair between my fingers as if in a certain way I could tear from my mind all that I relived during my sleep. All my anger, my disappointment, and I would also like my love to go away. Because if it wasn't for that I wouldn't be like that now, none of this would have happened.

Damn it.

I take a slight kick to the leg of the coffee table but fortunately it does not break, but moves only a few inches. Accidentally my gaze falls on the arms and on the back of the right one I can see a scar not exactly small, that is even whiter than my complexion. This was the gift I received from that ruinous fall in New York. 10 stitches. Damn you.

I'm about to get up and head into the kitchen to make a coffee when I get distracted by the sound of the doorbell. Who the hell is now? I'm not exactly in the mood to get visitors, but it might be important. Maybe it's Blake. I just hope it's something quick, I want to spend the evening alone.

I approach the front door and without even looking through the peephole, I open it revealing the last person I would have expected to be on my porch.

Hi. Um... I came to see how you were. Are you okay?

I can see how nervous she is, because all she does is play with the shoulder strap she wears, and I imagine that my expression, which is anything but enthusiastic, only makes things worse. But I can't, I can't stand not being angry, it's as if everything that happened 2 years ago and that I lived not even a few minutes ago, had left me a glowing mark on the skin that hurts. Very bad.

And what makes me even more angry is that she is here, in front of me, damn beautiful, and my heart is going crazy. It's woken up too, or maybe it already was. It just needed the brain to connect and restore all the information to make me realize that, even though I want to deny it, the woman in front of my eyes is all I want. My gaze falls involuntarily on her lips and God, I shouldn't have done it, because now I won't be able to think about anything else. It's as if I had a force inside that was pushing me towards her, but I have to stay still. I can't. I don't have to. It's almost as if my anger and feeling towards her is playing arm wrestling. And I'm afraid of who will be the winner.

Beca.. Are you there?

Why didn't you tell me?

What do you mea-?

I don't give her time to answer. I don't want to be explaining anything. A few seconds ago I was afraid of what between anger and love won, but I had not taken into account what comes out if they join. I forcefully pull her arm to get her into the house and without waiting another moment, I join my lips with hers, almost as if I couldn't breathe and she was the only source of oxygen. My hands automatically moved to her face, as if unconsciously I didn't want to run the risk of losing her. What amazes me is that after a first moment of confusion, I hear her respond to the kiss, as if she was waiting for nothing else. It's a ravenous kiss, not even permission has been asked for our tongue to be twisted.

Everything has gone automatically, as if we were struggling to impose our own supremacy, there is all the anger, resentment, disappointment that we have inevitably brought on ourselves for these 2 long years. Yet it seems so natural. They say that the body has its own memory, and it is certainly for this reason that our lips move as if they already know what to do. I bite her lower lip as I feel one of her hands in my hair and the other behind my back, which holds me tight and pushes me more and more against her body. I missed her. Her breath on my skin, her smell. Everything. God, I don't know if I can do without it. It's like a drug. But she's engaged, she's getting married. And we are kissing, as if our lives were worth it. As soon as this idea is planted in my head, deletes everything else, I immediately detach from her, catching her by surprise.

We both have breath, glossy eyes and swollen, red lips for all the bites we've had. She's confused, lost, I don't know if she's regretful. Her eyes have become darker, deep blue, and I don't want to create false hopes, but that look only suggests desire. Or at least it was when we were together. But I can't. I would like to kiss her until I take away even the last breath of air in her lungs, but I can't. It's wrong. Yet it seems so damn right.

Beca...

Her voice is trembling, and insecure, and I can see how small drops of salt water have formed in the corners of her eyes. I knew it. She is repentant, I should have imagined it. So why did she answer the kiss like that? Why did she hold me so tightly as if she wanted to melt our bodies? If before I was angry, now I don't even know how I feel. I didn't have to do that. Stupid Beca.

I.. Uh...

You... Do you remember everything?

Does it seem as if there is a veil of hope in this question? Why would she hope that I remember such a thing? It was terrible.

I lift my eyes and interlock them with her own. It literally takes my breath away.

Yeah... I-hm... I've just had this dream... That was not exactly a dream but a memory... And yes, I remember everything.

She looks at me, for a long instant, without talking. Yet from here I feel the gears of her brain squeaking so much in a fury of thinking. I just want her to give voice to her mind.

Can I ask you a question?

Yeah... Uh, of course.

I observe her for a moment and then I take a deep breath, preparing myself for any answer she may give me. I just hope it doesn't hurt very much.

Why didn't you answer my letter? Or why didn't you show up at the bar some days after? I... I really hoped that you would come.

Beca... I never received your letter. I don't know maybe the postman will have los-.

Postman? I didn't send it. I gave it to Aubrey at Rod-ne-y..

I stop for a moment to talk and I can't help but notice the expression of pure surprise, obviously not in a good way, on Chloe's face. Only now is everything explained. That fucking blond dragon never gave her the letter. That bitch!

But at the moment it's Chloe's facial coloring that worries me. Every second that passes becomes more and more red, I could swear that in a while the smoke will come out of her ears. Maybe I messed up? How could I have known that? What the hell?

I have to go. I'm sorry.

I see her approaching the front door hurrying and obviously fuming for the sudden revelation, but before going she turns back to me, with a guilty look. It doesn't bode well.

Um... About earlier.. It was a mistake, I-

We look at each other for an endless second. I am collecting ever smaller fragments of my heart, and I am holding my breath. Something worse will come. I know.

I-ha... Maybe it's better to forget. It must never happen again. I'm sorry. I have to go.

Yeah...it's.. Okay.

Forget it. It's absurd how I spent days concentrating to remember what I had lost, and now all I should do is forget. Now the door is closed, she's gone, leaving only her scent on my hands, in my living room, and in my mind. How can I forget now?

I turn around and head towards the corridor to be able to reach the studio. In my mind the phrase of the dream is made space again, and I think that this time something can come out from underneath.

You were alone, left out in the cold.

Cold, yes. What I feel now.

_

Okay Folks! Here we are. I know that Chloe could seems an unlikeable person, but just try for a moment to put yourself in her shoes. She's not the villain in this story. Nobody is.

Anyywaaay, I've actually enjoyed writing this chapter. Finally the first kiss. It's about time!

Let me know what you think, maybe if there is something that I can improve, or something that you might dislike, I don't know.

Thanks to all of you. And since it's a weird moment for the World by now, please be responsible. Stay in and be safe. Take care of yourself and your loved ones. It's important.

See ya.