Hemorrhage.

“I got a cat,” I announced, cradling the phone between my shoulder and ear as I tried to fit the key into the hole and victoriously open the car door, without dropping something and/or injuring myself.

“A cat?” John asked skeptically.

“Well…a kitten. But technically it’s a cat, so yeah.” I almost nodded, but I was incapable of doing so, so I just settled on opening the door and taking the key out of the door. I set my bag down in the passenger’s seat and got inside of the car, closing the door behind me.

“Why the hell did you get a cat?” The amusement in his voice was obvious.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s a group therapy exercise--,” the words were getting easier and easier to get out of my mouth, which was a feat within itself. “--where we have to get something to take care of: a flower, a pet, a cacti if we’re really that bad. I chose a cat. I mean, I need some companionship anyway.”

“What about Molly? Aren’t you guys friends?”

“Yeah, we’re friends. We watched a movie together yesterday, but she’s getting ready for school, and sometimes she hangs out with…” I trailed off. “…so mainly I’m alone, and I wanted something there.”

“So a cat is replacing me?” He almost sounded offended.

“I wouldn’t say replacing. A cat is…temporarily filling in your void.” I delicately phrased.

“Because that’s so much better.” He said.

“It is! It’s a nice cat. You’ll like him.”

“Oh, so it’s a him now too? Jesus, Emilie, what’s next? Didja name him John, too?” I scowled. He was being mean.

“No, actually, his name is Cornelius.” I was joking, but the seriousness of my tone didn’t let him know that.

“…” There was silence on his end. Finally, he spoke. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Yes. His name is Sushi, because that’s what some girl in my group suggested. For a nickname, I’m going to call him California Roll, because I like those the best.”

I could almost imagine him blinking in confusion. “Eh, okay, whatever. As long as it’s neither John or Cornelius. Does it piss on stuff to claim it’s territory?”

“No, John, he doesn’t piss. He hasn’t sprayed yet, either, and I’m hoping that he won’t until I can get him fixed.” I reclined in my seat, placing my head against the rest and closing my eyes. It had been a long day, and I was tired.

“Whatever. How does your mom feel about this?”

“This? Oh my God, it’s a cat! It’s not some big, life changing event. It’s just a cat - he weighs three pounds, and he’s a calico, and he’s cute. She’s fine with it, by the way. She thinks that he’ll be good for me.”

“Oh.” He didn’t sound very happy, and I really could not figure out why. Was he really upset over a cat? A cat couldn’t replace him. Sushi wasn’t John. Sure, I could cuddle with Sushi and tell him things that I could never tell John, but John was my rock, my safety, my everything. Didn’t he understand that?

“Anyway,” I opted on changing the subject. “How’s tour so far?”

It was only four days in, but I was sure that there were many stories.

“It’s been pretty good. I’ve met a lot of really cool, new people.”

“Like who?” I didn’t really care to know, but I wanted to keep him on the phone longer, to hear his voice.

“The guys from Sing it Loud, All Time Low’s merch guys, Jac Vanek. They’re all cool.” He said.

“That’s good. Cool people are um, cool.” I raised my eyebrows at myself. I wasn’t very good at coming up with adjectives, I guess. I was a little distracted, though, because I caught a glimpse of my middle half in my rearview mirror and the sight of the skin bunching up together, the fat creating this unattractive circle, was enough to place a lump in my throat and burning in the back of my eyes.

I thought I was…doing better. I mean, there wasn’t anything really wrong with me, but my thoughts had been more optimistic lately. I had been happier, stronger, waking up with a brighter outlook on life, almost. It was ironic, really, when, what I presumed to be, the sun of my life in a different town, that I was blooming so quickly. It was a reverse operation, but I supposed that maybe I had enough of him stored up in my veins, in my brain, that perhaps the photosynthesis would still take place.

“I’ve met a lot of fans, too. Some of them are crazy - I’ve been given at least fifteen numbers already.” He chuckled.

I laughed with him. “They all want your body.” I joked.

“Damn straight. This fine hunk of ass…” I giggled. “I can’t wait for you to get here in August.” He said.

“Me too.” I agreed. “I’m excited.”

And I was. I know it was going to scare me - make me feel so uncomfortable, all those gorgeous girls surrounding me, but I didn’t care. By then, I would probably be desperate to see him. By then, I would probably feel as if I was going to collapse or implode.

“It’ll be fun.” He said. Then, there was a voice in the background, and shuffling. He sounded distracted as he yelled at someone that he would be there soon. My heart sank. He would have to go already.

“Shit,” he said. “Emelie?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really sorry, but I have to go. There’s a signing in ten, and it’s all the way across the venue. I’d stay on the phone, but I get stopped a lot, and --,”

“It’s fine.” I said. “You can go. No worries.”

“Okay, thanks,” he sounded relieved. I don’t know why. It wouldn’t really matter if I was pissed at him or not. He was already a couple hundred miles away. The Arizona date was coming up soon, but I wasn’t going. It was scheduled on the date of one of my group meetings, and my mother would have thrown a huge bitch fit if I skipped out on it.

“Okay.” I said.

“Alright. I love you. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to you later, too. I lo--.”

He hung up.