365 Days.

I watch the doctor stand up and pull my shirt back down,
feeling chilled to the bone from the little metal piece of the stethoscope.
Under my gaze,
the doctor moves away from me and to my father,
where they talk quietly about something.
The doctor looks relaxed and calm,
though father looks a little concerned.

Not eavesdropping on their conversation,
for I know it will certainly bore me,
I turn around and pull my hoodie on,
hanging about near the door,
waiting to be dismissed.

When I am,
I quietly leave for my room,
spotting Ghostie on the table,
lazily stretched out in the spot of sun.

I stroke the kitten’s soft fur thoughtfully,
looking out the window as I do so,
watching the doctor exit the house and walk to his car,
get in,
and drive off.

I give a light cough and frown when the cough increases in strength.
Ghostie looks at me disapprovingly,
annoyed that I had ruined his sleep,
jumps off the table,
and runs out of the room just as Magnus comes in with the phone.

“Phone for you,
sir.”
He hands me the phone,
looking concerned as I cough a bit more,
then turns and leaves too.

I answer the phone somewhat cautiously,
“Hello?”

“Oh hey colourful.”

“Ch-Chase?”
I stammer,
eyes widening.
“How did you get my number?”
I immediately demand.

“Your father it quite famous,
isn’t he?
Kidding,
I don’t stalk,
I got if off Malcolm.”

I want to slam the phone down onto the ground,
and break it in to pieces.
“Why?”

“To talk to you of course.
I was thinking maybe we-”

My coughing drowns out his voice
and suffocates me for a second.
“Sorry,
what was that?”

“I was uh,
just saying that you should come over tomorrow.”
There’s a small pause.
“Unless of course,
you’re sick,
cause I and the others wouldn’t want your germs everywhere.”

“Aha, thanks,”
I reply dryly,
pulling a face lightly.
“What a way to make me feel better.
Thanks for letting me know I can rely on you anytime.”
Sarcasm drips off every word I say.

“No problem.
I’ll see you at five.
Tonight.
Bye.”

“Ch-”
I sneeze and before I can answer,
the end-of-call sound beeps into my ear.
Oh for crying out loud.
Putting the phone down,
I grab something to wear.
Till five.
Huh.
As if he thinks I’m going to be there.

~ * ~

The lights blind me as I push through the crowd.
Why am I here?
Because Chase told me to come.
Why did I obey?
I don’t even know.

He’s so manipulative.
And I’m so easy to manipulate.
He could tell me to jump off a bridge in a tutu and,
after telling him that he’s a jerk and bastard,
and that he can’t tell me what to do,
I’ll go put on a tutu and jump.
Or at least,
that’s what it feels like.

It never works with anyone else.
My father can tell me to go do something,
and I will procrastinate,
I can tell myself to go do something,
and I will procrastinate even more.

But with Chase,
it's a different story.

“Chase!”
I call out as I see his familiar figure in the crowd.

He turns to look at me,
smirks and walks over.
“Oh hey,
didn’t think you would be here.”
His eyes sparkle lightly
and I know he knows that I was going to be here.

“Yeah, well…”
I break off,
realizing I don’t have anything to reply to him.
My mouth slowly closes and I avert my gaze,
but on the inside I’m a raging beast of anger.

“Just relax.
Have fun, enjoy yourself.
Here, have a drink.”