Take A Breath, Let the Rest Come Easy

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be with you in just a moment.” Grace pressed the hold button and switched over to the other line.

“Hello, sweetheart.” Grace’s mother spoke into the phone clearly and profoundly.

“I’m at work, Mom.” Grace rolled her eyes and moved a few papers to the side.

“Where? Have you found a deal yet?” Her mother pressed. Grace’s hands clenched and she broke the pencil in her left hand.

“No.” She replied cooly. “I’m at the Printing Place.”

“Oh. Well I wondered if you would stop by for dinner with the Hamptons?” she asked.

“When is it?” Grace huffed, pushing a few stray hairs from her face.

“This Thursday.” She replied shortly. Grace checked her phone.

“Nope, sorry. I have a phone meeting with Hopeless Records at 4.” Grace was glad she had an excuse to get out of this one. She didn’t want to accompany her conceited mother to another one of her escapades.

“Awh. I really wanted you to be at this one.”

“Maybe you can ask Joyce?” Grace tried.

“Yes. Yes I could.” She heard her mother pondering on the other end. “Okay.” She finally agreed. “Let me know how you’re meeting with Hopeless Records goes. I find them completely outlandish and unprofessional- but for someone like you I guess it would be a natural fit.”
Grace’s blood boiled. “Can’t you just be hopeful, for me…. Just once?” Grace muttered softly, inwardly chuckling at the irony of the use of the word “hopeful” on “hopeless records.”

“I would darling, if you just let me manage you. You could be so much further on. Also, I meant to tell you last week at the Gaskarth’s- you could use a haircut, and maybe you should try eating a little less. You have to stay skinny if you want any record to even glance in your direction. You know how they are- they want the whole package.” Her mother rambled.

“Bye Mom.” Grace snapped, her fingers were white with tension.

“Bye, sweetheart! Love you!” Grace hung up.

“Hello, sorry for the wait, how may I help you? Are you the one who asked for large poster prints?” Grace responded into the other line.

Her fingers let go of the tension, and she relaxed slightly. Her mother hadn’t irked her about that stuff for a while- She assumed it was overdue for an examination of her anyhow.
---

Alex’s eyes flickered over to the box of things sitting by his apartment door. Her rolled his eyes, and took another swig of the Miller’s lite in his hands. “Just throw it out, man. She obviously isn’t going to pick it up.” Jack said.

Jack was his best friend, his partner in crime. He told him everything, and vise-versa. “ I know.”

Alex stammered. “It’s been four weeks.” He sighed. Alex walked over to the kitchen and threw his empty bottle into the trash can. He ran a hand through his messy brown hair and then walked back into the living room.

“She texted me, man.” Rian said. Rian was the drummer of the band, and he was also a really good friend, along with Zack as well- but he was buying a new bass.

“What did the bitch have to say for herself?” Alex asked bitterly, slamming himself onto the chair.

“She said…” Rian glanced back at his phone, “Where’d the douche put my stuff?”

“Lovely.” Jack rolled his eyes and took a bite out of the chocolate pie that was in his hands.

“Fuck her.” Alex muttered. He straightened up and suppressed the rage from inside of me. “Tell her she can pick it up outside my apartment.” He paused. “And tell her I’m putting it out now, because it’s raining.” Alex snickered, laughing at his own evil plan to soak his ex’s things.

“You’re an ass.” Jack chuckled.

“I know. But she’s a bigger one. Hell, she HAS a bigger one.” Alex said, popping open another beer.

“Dude, you’ve had like seven today.” Rian said, getting up and walking over to him. “That’s enough, man. I’m worried about you.” Rian laughed while he said, it but Alex knew better. He was concerned, Jack was concerned, and so was Zack. So what if Alex wanted to drink more than usual.

His relationships never did last- but this one lasted longer than most- a whole year.

Rian took Alex’s beer and glanced sideways at him as he began to sip it down. “Fuck you, man.” Alex grumbled and retreated back towards his room.

He groaned as he slipped on his black vans. He pulled a grey beanie over his head and slipped on a light jacket to guard him from the rain. He groaned when we noticed Lisa’s earring sitting on his dresser. It was a sparkly little thing, must have been worth a lot. “I think I’ll keep this one.” He said, with a smug grin on his face, and shoved the little thing into his pocket. One whole year of commitment- and she had rewarded him by running away with a brain surgeon. He had to admit- if given the option he would have chosen the brain surgeon any day.

But really?

They had spent a whole year together and she had been that shallow as too bring the surgeon back to HIS apartment and fuck in HIS bed, all because she wanted to prove a point. The point being exactly that she could have anyone she wanted, and Alex should be aware of that. Alex refrained from tearing up at the thought of the event; seeing his Lisa wrapped up in someone else’s arms. He shivered. “Fuck. My Life.” He reached for a pen and began to write down things.

Lyrics, to be exact.

“I’m sick and tired of writing songs about you. This is it, this is the end.”