Payphone

He pressed his head against the cool glass and closed his eyes, listening desperately to the phone ring, waiting.

Hey! You've reached Adelaide Bowers! Sorry I couldn't get to the phone, I'm either sleeping or ignoring you, probably. She laughed, the laugh he loved but felt like a stab in the gut at that moment. [I\Anyways, please don't leave a voicemail, i hate those. Try calling again, maybe I'll pick up. Shit, I think I'm rambling now. I wonder how the recording hasn't stopped-

He loved her voicemail. It was funny and perfect. He could hear her voice and her laugh all at once. And he never failed to laugh when the recording actually did cut off. Yes, he loved her voicemail. But right then, it was the worst thing he could have heard.

Shakily, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few more coins, pushing them into the slot and dialing her number.
And it rang. And it rang, and it rang.
And it rang, and it rang.
Hey! You've reached Adelaide Bowers-

He slammed the phone back onto the receiver, hanging his head and biting his lip. How had things gotten so fucked up, he wondered? How had things changed so much? How had they changed so much? In his eyes, they were the same people they always were. They were the same two goofy, in love kids they'd been when they first met. He didn't notice how much things had changed until it was too late. Hadn't noticed he'd been working a lot more, hadn't noticed she'd been a lot sadder -a lot lonelier, until it was too late. Until he was at a payphone calling over and over again, desperately wishing she'd pick up.

They'd been so happy. So crazy, so desperately in love with each other. It was hard to remember those day, exactly. Happily ever after had been so common then, it was like eating breakfast. And you never really remember what you ate for breakfast.

She would run her fingers lightly over his arm, outlining the rose tattooed on his shoulder. He would gaze at her silently as she read the letters spelling out her name in the petals of the flower, memorize the soft waves in her brown hair, drown in her blue eyes. She would kiss his cheek, on the edge of his mouth and he'd pull her back quickly and kiss her the right way. She would make him breakfast in her silk robe and dance along to the radio while he ate in bed. He would stop by her job unexpectedly, and he would carry her through the door frame, and he would make love to her all night and again in the morning.

Hey! You've reached Adelaide Bowers. Sorry I couldn't get to the phone-
"Shit."
He angrily shook the phone, cursing quietly. He took a moment and calmed down, reaching into his pocket for more change. He was shocked to find only a few more coins left, enough for two more calls. How many times had he called her? He'd had tons of coins when he started, and now he was out? Sighing, he inserted more coins and dialed her number again.

Hey! You've reached Adelaide Bowers. Sorry i couldn't get to the phone, I'm either sleeping or ignoring you, probably-

He waited patiently for the machine to cut her off and provide him with a beep. But when it beeped, he was quiet for a moment, paralyzed.

"Uhm- Addy? Addy, hey. Uhm..." He paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I know you don't like voicemails, but you weren't, uhm- you weren't answering. So, i uhm... I figured i might as well. You know?" He laughed nervously. "Why not?" He stopped suddenly, realizing how much of an idiot he must sound like. "Anyways. Where are you? Your sister said you went home, said you needed to get away. So, uhm, I'm here. In England. Your sister wouldn't me where you are though. So now I'm at this payphone, standing in this big glass booth thing," he laughed at how utterly ridiculous this all seemed. Here he had flown thousands of miles over the ocean for her, and he was stuck standing in a phone booth, alone with no one on his side.

"And I'm calling you, but you're not picking up. Why aren't you picking up, Addy?" He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and drawing in a deep breath.

"Look, i know things are fucked up. I know I've been gone a lot, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry baby." He stopped, waiting. Almost as if she could pick up right then and tell him it was okay, she forgave him and could he please come to her apartment?

"Where did it all go wrong?" He asked. More to himself, really. "When did everything turn to such shit? How could i not have noticed? I was horrible. I was, and I'm sorry. Do you remember? Do you remember how it used to be? Do you remember all those plans we made? I was going to make enough money at my job so we could move to Europe -you said back to England, but i wanted to go to France, remember? And you could paint all day in the studio I'd get you, and I'd learn to cook. Do you remember? Whatever happened to that? I'm sure you couldn't have forgotten. Or, maybe you did." He pursed his lips, shaking his head sorrowfully. "With me gone all the time, who was there to remind you? I'm sorry, baby. I'm so, so sorry. I swear-"

He stopped abruptly, shocked when he heard the call click off. The recording must've cut him off. Reaching into pocket again, he looked at his last few coins. He still needed to call a cab, or he'd be stuck here. But there was still so much he wanted to tell her. He wasn't done.

"Fuck it."

He dialed her number again and waited as it rang, waited through her voicemail, until there was another beep.

"Look," he said quickly. "I fucked up. I didn't see it until i did, and I fucked up. And I'm sorry. Addy, baby, you are the best thing that's ever happened to me. You are my own fairy tale, my happily ever after. And if you leave, that all turns to shit. I turn to shit. "I wish i could do it all over again. Because I swear you'd be in my arms right now and I'd never let you go. Please, Addy." He bit his lip again, begging. "Please. I love you, so much. Call me back, please."

He slowly moved the phone away from his ear and after a moment, hesitantly hung up.
For a moment he just stood in the booth, unseeingly staring into traffic. The only thing he was really seeing was her. Her hair, her eyes, her legs, her smile, the dimple in her left cheek. Would he ever see her again? Ever be with her again, call her his?

He focused past the glass ahead of him, the cars flashing by hypnotizing him. A flash of red between the moving cars caught his eye, and he focused his attention across the street.
His breath caught, and he felt his stomach twist.
Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was destiny. Maybe it was a miracle brought on by the power of sheer thought but there she was. Sitting at a bus stop bench in her favorite red trench coat, talking on the phone. She was breathtaking. She was heartbreakingly beautiful. Her hair was pulled to the side, her red lips set in a small frown, her eyes shining.
As he looked her, he saw she wasn't talking on the phone at all. She seemed to be just listening to something. When she removed the phone from her ear and stared at it in awe, he realized she might've been -must've been- listening to his voicemail. Immediately he exited the phone booth and ran to the edge of the sidewalk, watching her across the street. In a moment traffic led up and he speedily wove through the cars towards her, keeping his eyes on her in case she moved.
Her eyes flickered up, as if she sensed him, and met his. She watched silently as he made his way over. He sat beside her on the bench.
He wanted to touch her. He wanted to hold her in his arms and kiss her forehead and her lips and tell her he loved her again, and hear her say it back.
For a moment they sat in silence on opposite sides of the bench. There was still so much between them. So many regrets, so many what-ifs, so many feelings of love. He scooted over until he was next to her, taking a risk and hoping she wouldn't reject him.
She wordlessly moved her hand over until it lightly touched his. He glanced over at her, but she kept her eyes trained ahead of her, the hint of a smile on her lips. Smiling softly, he made the next move and grabbed her hand, reveling the soft familiar feeling of her hand fitting perfectly in his. She gently squeezed his hand, and he knew they'd be okay.