Don't Give Up (On Me)

We hadn’t spoken to each other since we got home from the in-store last Tuesday. It was now the following Monday. When I say we hadn’t spoken to each other, I literally meant it. I still made us dinner most nights, but never said a word to him. He still made me coffee in the morning, but didn’t say a word to me. He’d leave a note on the fridge if he went out, saying where he was going and when he’d be back, but that was it. He’d successfully locked himself away in the music room for the majority of the time I was home, his attempt to ignore me or avoid me.

So taking into consideration that we hadn’t spoken all week, you can sort of imagine how nervous I was to read the post he’d apparently posted on the bands’ website, in reference to last weeks’ events. I got the message from Tim, who said to look it up on their Tumblr page.

I typed my boyfriend’s name into the search bar of the social media website, and waited for the post to appear in my feed. I had to scroll through a few images to get to it, a lot being from Tuesday. They only brought back bad memories, seeing a photo of me walking him off stage, Tim crouched in front of him and John clearly freaking out. It wasn’t a good look, and I can’t imagine what he would have had to say about it. The post finally appeared and I took a deep breath before beginning to read it.

to whom it may concern (which I know is a lot of you)
I want to explain last week, at an acoustic in-store that we were scheduled to perform. For anyone that’s seen or heard about it, you would know that I bailed before we even began. You would know that my girlfriend had to take me home because I simply couldn’t do it. You would know our manager had to come up with some believable excuse to cancel the event.
But unless you’re a part of my family/close friends, etc. you wouldn’t know that a little over eight months ago, I was diagnosed with clinical depression. I can’t tell you why, because even I don’t know, but it’s been developing for the worse ever since we’d finished the recording process of Pioneer. As you’ve now discovered, there’s nothing ‘cute’ or ‘quirky’ about having depression. It’s full of let downs and unreliability (for me, anyway). I’m working towards getting better, but I figured I should at least let you all in with a decent excuse as to why I bailed without a word last Tuesday.
For any of you that are going through depression, or anxiety or whatever, I only hope that you keep going, don’t give up. For those of you that aren’t, you’re lucky. I definitely wouldn’t have made it this far without the love and support of my girl Leighton, and the rest of my friends.
So that’s all I’ve really got to say. I’m hoping the process of our next album will fix a few things. But until then, I’m not sure about the possibility of any live shows. Thanks for being there and being understanding, I love you all and the bands appreciates your support these past few years.
Love, john.

It was hard to believe that that was John speaking. I’d forgotten how sincere he could be when speaking with the fans, or when he was put into the public eye. Not that it was all fake, but it was just…he always kept me on my toes, that’s for sure.

I picked my phone up, shooting him a quick text message about meeting up for lunch, as I had an hour and I wanted to talk to him. I knew one of us had to be the bigger person and make the first move, and I knew that a bad mood like him wouldn’t want to be that person.

I’m on my way, he responded, almost automatically. I gathered my things together, dropping them into my handbag, when Tate rocked up at my door.

“What are you doing for lunch?” She asked, “I need to complain about my boyfriend.”

I sent her a look. “I’m meeting up with my own. What’s going on now?”

“He’s still being an ass.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “It’s complicated, I’ll just wait for you to get back.”

“Are you sure?” I asked guiltily, standing up from my desk and making my way to the door.

She nodded, waving it off. “I’ll grab ice cream on lunch…” she mumbled.

I sent her a pout, pulling her into my arms. “Tate…”

“We’re in so much shit, Lei,” she sighed, hugging me back.

I pulled away. “I’m going to be back in an hour, okay? We can talk about it then, alright? And you can say absolutely anything you want about him.”

“Thank you,” she sighed, nodding in agreement. “You’re the best.”

I gave her a smile, trying to lift her mood. “I try.”

She laughed, shoving my lightly before wiping her eyes. “Get out of here, Johnson.”

I rolled my eyes playfully before passing her. “Chocolate fudge, okay? I want chocolate fudge ice cream.”

“Whatever you want, boss!” She called, as I made my way through the warehouse, past the others who were getting ready to go on their break also. When I got outside, the fresh air hit me like a positive ton of bricks. I needed to open that window in my office, for sure.

I looked across the street and saw John outside the café, clad in black skinny jeans and his red Budweiser t-shirt. His sunglasses were pushed up onto his head and his jeans rolled, above his classic cons. He knew how to dress himself, something I’ve never had to worry about when we go out together. Well I did worry sometimes, but that was only when other girls’ eyes lingered for that little too long.

I crossed the street and walked over to him, to find him smoking. I didn’t say anything when I got over to him, just stood there patiently until he finished. I wanted him to be the bigger person now, and make the first move, to show me how much he wanted…well, us.

He took a long drag from his cigarette and exhaled, before leaning down to kiss me on the cheek, sliding his hand into mine and using his thumb to caress the back of it. “You look beautiful.” He murmured, before taking another drag.

I wore a simple pale pink collared dress, that hugged at the waist and had buttons down the front. It was a floral design and I’d paired it with some simple black flats over all of my Jeffrey Campbell boots and platforms. I’d worn it with a simple black jacket and left my hair out, with simple make up. We were all quite stylish at work, even though we worked in a warehouse all day, it was fun, dressing nice.

Back to the real world, I just sent John a look. If he thought he could use some sort of charm on me, it wasn’t going to work.

“Can you put that out now?” I asked. “I’ve only got an hour.”

He sighed and took one last drag before throwing it on the ground and stepping on it, dropping my hand. “I’ll get our usual, you wanna sit outside?”

I shrugged and nodded. “Just get me a water though-“

“But you always have a smoothie.” He frowned.

“Well I feel like water today,” I mumbled, “can’t you just get me a water?”

“Fine,” he nodded, pulling a face before going inside.

I rolled my eyes at his immaturity before taking a seat at one of the two tables outside the café. I watched from outside as he stood in line, waiting. He was looking down at his phone, texting while he waited. I wonder who he was texting…probably one of the guys about the trip. I watched as he jumped, when a man in a business suit accidentally bumped into him as he tried to pass, startling him. He was a lot more jumpy and paranoid these days than he used to be. Even though we hadn’t spoken for a week, we still slept in the same bed, and he’d still wake me up accidentally when he woke in a sweat, freaking out from whatever had captured him in his sleep. I think it was Friday night, that he actually woke up crying. I remember holding him and just going ‘shhh…’ all night until he fell asleep again. I hope he was telling his therapist about the nightmares, maybe they could put him on some sort of sleeping pill to help with that.

“They didn’t have the normal sub you like, so I got you the Mexican chicken sub.” He mumbled, sliding it across the table, along with my water.

“That’s alright, thanks.” I nodded, opening it as he did with his and we began eating. “So I read your post.” I started, not letting an awkward silence set in. That was the last thing we needed.

“Mmhmm.” He nodded, chewing on his sub. He usually had the BLT sub, and a kale and passion fruit smoothie. I know, gross, right?

Okay, a lack of participation too?

“Did you mean what you said?” I asked, “about the let downs and unreliability? Am I unreliable? Or letting you down?” It hurt to ask, but I had to know in order to make an improvement for him. “What is it I’m doing wrong-“

His look cut me off. He was frowning, shaking his head in disbelief. “Babe, I’m the one who’s the
big fucking unreliable let down, god it’s not you at all.”

A little relief set in, but was demolished when I realized how badly he thought of himself.

“You’re not a let down, John,” I sighed, ignoring the events that came to mind. Kenny and Lydia’s get together…not seeing my parents…bailing on the in-store… “I understand that it’s hard.”

He looked up at me. “I’m a musician that had an anxiety attack over performing- it wasn’t even a proper show, just a few songs to under a hundred people- that’s a fucking let down, Leighton.” He sighed, taking a sip of his yucky green smoothie.

“You explained what’s wrong, you let everyone know-“

“It’s a letdown to myself, Lei.” He said finally. “It’s like I’m back to square one, when I used to perform with my back to the crowd? I’m all the way back there again.”

“John…maybe you shouldn’t think so much about the music side and put more attention towards the emotional side.” I suggested, taking a bite and looking up at him as I chewed on my lunch. I missed our lunch dates here, they made the best subs in town. “I think it’s anxiety, you had a panic attack.”

“So you think I should get medication for that?” He asked.

I shrugged and nodded. I was no doctor, but I knew that the medication could help him. “It could be a starting point, yeah.”

“I’ll call Dr. Adams about it tomorrow than.” John nodded simply.

“But that’s not all we have to talk about, John.” I mused, sending him a knowing look.

“I know,” he mumbled quietly.

“You need to start making changes with yourself,” I said firmly, not leaving any room for alternatives.
“You understand?”

He nodded slowly. “The trip is next week…that’ll help.”

“I understand that you’re going to ignore the idea of a break, but just take it slowly, okay?” I tried, “don’t put too much pressure on yourself when you go back to writing and recording.”

“Babe have you seen where we’re going? It’s the California desert, there’s nothing to do out there but
reflect- AKA write.” John stated, sending me a look.

Oh right, sorry, I’ve never been out to the freaking Jackson Tree or the Johnson Tree or whatever the hell it was called. I know, not very ‘Indian’ of me, right?

I sent him back a look that clearly said I wasn’t up for excuses. “Promise me, John. Just promise me you’ll look after yourself, okay? I love you, and you know I’d do anything for you, but…this takes it’s toll on me too, and I have to take care of myself as well.”

He shook his head slowly. “I’m the one who should be taking care of you…it makes me feel shitty when I know I can’t.”

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel weak,”

“I’m an independent person, you know that,” I shrugged, “I need you to focus on you, and I’ll focus on me, okay?”

He nodded slowly, “but I still need you-“

“Of course,” I nodded quickly, “I’m always going to be there when you have the bad dreams, or you need someone to calm you down, or de-panic you, or help with the medication, go to the doctor- I’ll be right beside you the whole time, but only if you promise to look after yourself and take it easy, okay?”
“You’re amazing,” he murmured, leaning across the table and kissing me on the cheek. “I’ll try get better.”

“That’s exactly what I want to hear,” I responded, a small smile of relief finding its way to my lips. “So what day are you going to next week?”

“Monday morning, actually.”

We began talking about his trip, because I knew how good music made him feel, regardless of the bitter effects it could have on him. He told me about how they were staying in this cabin somewhere in the desert, and they’d be visiting the Joshua Tree to do one of the sound baths that was offered, which was just a huge musical meditation or something. He said they’d come back and start recording what would be the follow up to Pioneer, and hopefully they’d get it done within the next few weeks. He told me that he planned on becoming very devoted on the album, and planned on spending a lot of time writing and improving with guitar. I’d seen his words around the house and they were excruciatingly deep. He used to keep a magic marker in the shower to write spur of the moment lyrics on the bathroom tiles, knowing they’d wipe off later, but when he left for tour, I binned the marker because I wasn’t a big fan of the writing on the walls. Thank goodness I’d stopped that a while ago.

We ended lunch after an hour, and he walked me back to the warehouse, stopping at the front doors to pull me into his arms.

“Thank you for coming today,” I murmured into his chest.

“You kidding? You’re my girl, of course I’d come.” He mumbled softly, “I’ll try harder for us, alright?”

I nodded slowly, leaning up and kissing him quickly. “I’ll see you at home?”

“Yeah, catch you later, darlin,” he sighed, kissing me once more before letting go and heading down the street to where he’d parked his car.

I took a deep breath before heading inside, feeling much better about things between John and me. Of course it was going to be hard, and I was naïve to think it wouldn’t be, but I had enough faith in him to believe that we were going to be okay.
I just needed to keep reminding myself that we would be.

***

“He kicked you out?!” I scoffed, almost choking on my ice cream as I sat behind my desk, corresponding to emails while simultaneously playing therapist to Tate, who was laying on the couch in my office, eating her own ice cream. I was kind of worried she’d choke the way she laid like that.

She nodded, the same look of disgust on her own face. “I know, right? Fucking jerk- so what, I got a little drunk last week with the girls, and he went off at me and didn’t let me in, so I ended up staying with Hilary- do you know how embarrassing it is to wake up the following morning, totally disorientated, with Austin and Garrett sitting in the kitchen, probably talking about me?!”

“He came and picked you up?” I questioned, slightly impressed with Garrett’s chivalry.

She nodded again. “I didn’t have a car- I mean Austin said he’d drop me home, but still. I think he must have called Garrett, because apparently I was a mess the night before, crying and complaining to Hilary about how stupid boys were. I think I was complaining to the both of them, actually.” She mused.

“What, Hilary and Nat?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Hilary and Austin.”

I let out a short laugh. “I bet Austin would’ve loved that. Garrett was civil in front of them, right?”

“Oh as if,” she scoffed, taking down another scoop of her ice cream. “He was such a smug asshole- acting like my fucking father, I mean who does he think he is? Anyway, when we got home we fought all day and he ended up sleeping on the couch. It’s only spiraled from the whole baby drama.”

I winced at the sudden solution that popped into my head, not knowing if I should share it. It sucked to hear that her and Garrett were going through some really shitty times, and I wanted them to get through it, but to be honest, I wasn’t seeing much of a fight left in them. “Tate…do you think, maybe it’s time…you guys…took a break?”

She turned to me, as if pondering the thought. “I feel like we can get through this.”

Well that was a one eighty.

“You do?” I asked, somewhat surprised.

She seemed to understand my reaction as she nodded. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m still hell mad at him, but I want to work through it.”

“That’s a positive attitude I guess,” I nodded, although I thought it was slightly naïve in the sense that she shouldn’t be so easy around him. I almost got the feeling that she felt like she owed something to him to stick around. It felt like she was doing it for the wrong reasons, but I didn’t exactly know how to bring that up without offending her.

She sent me a look, raising an eyebrow at me. “If anyone’s judging, I should be judging you.” She said boldly, taking me back a little.

“Excuse me?” I frowned. “I wasn’t-“

“You’re the one staying with the boyfriend who strangled you,” she scoffed, “and you have the nerve to judge me when he only kicked me out?”

“My boyfriend has a mental disorder what’s your excuse?” I snapped back rudely. Of course I apologized immediately, feeling like an ultimate bitch once those words left my mouth, disrespecting both Tate and John. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” I insisted.

“I’m sorry too,” she nodded, rolling her eyes to herself, “I didn’t mean to bring it up again and I know you’re not judging me.”

“Of course not,” I sighed, sending her a pout. “I’m just worried about you two. I want you guys to be able to figure things out, but only if it’s the right thing to do, not because it’s the only thing you know.”

She sat back before taking another spoonful of her ice cream, as did I. I was weak for chocolate fudge, my god. “I get where you’re coming from, but you don’t need to worry, seriously.”

“You know I’m going to regardless,” I stated, sending her a look, but nodding respectively. “but I’ll back off and let you guys sort it out. Just remember you can talk to me about anything, alright?”

She didn’t maintain my eye contact but nodded regardless. “Yeah of course,” she stood, “I should get back to work, but thanks babe.”

“No problem,” I murmured, watching her walk out, nothing but a forced smile gracing her lips.

What was Garrett doing to her?

***

I got home later that night to find John in the kitchen, leaning over the stove. The smell of tomato sauce indicated he was making pasta. He was actually quite a good cook, to be honest- his mother had taught him well over the years.

As I entered the room, I dropped my bag and keys onto the kitchen table and made my way over to him, wrapping my arms around his thin waist. “Hi,” I greeted quietly.

“Hi,” he murmured back, stirring the pasta around in the pan before turning to me and leaning down to kiss me on the cheek. “How was the rest of the day?”

“Good,” I nodded, “I had an intense D&M with Tate about her and Garrett, but after that I was left to get more of the new line done.”

“You come up with a name yet?” He asked, resting his large hands on my hips, his thumbs caressing my hip bones.

I shook my head, closing my eyes as I rested my head to his chest. “Still nothing.”

“You’ll think of something soon,” he spoke huskily, sending a shiver down my spine. “You’ve got a creative mind in that pretty little head of yours.”

“I think you’re just describing yourself,” I mused, reaching up and kissing him on the lips. “I missed you.”

“In like, a horny way or a cute way?” He smirked.

“In a not-any-more way,” I scoffed, smacking him on the arm and pulling away. Mature, John. “Make me dinner, boy.”

“Rude,” he scoffed, pulling me tightly into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “So…I uh, booked a table for us at some restaurant in the city for tomorrow night.”

I looked up, raising an eyebrow at him. “Really?”

He shrugged and nodded. “If you want me to cancel it, I can-“

“No!” I shook my head quickly, “No that…that sounds good.”

A smug smile spread across his lips. “Good, because Romereo’s is kind of hard to get a table at.”

My eyes widened at him. “You got a table at Romereo’s?!”

He nodded again, “I did indeed, because I know you love their Italian food.”

His favorite food is Mexican. He’s a very multicultural human being, which is why I guess he loved touring so much. It’s why he loved going to Ireland, and showing me how much he loved it. It was so beautiful to see him so passionate about something he loved, like his family and his heritage and all that. Nowadays, you won’t hear a word about a single human being he’s blood related to.
I hated that.

***

The following morning I woke up earlier than usual, and laid there for a little while, just letting my thoughts run wild as I went over everything in my mind. I was still trying to come up with a name for the line, and it was really getting to me seeing as I had to start sending Tim designs for shirts that included the name of the line on them, and also inside the clothing for the printed tag. We also had to start talking packaging and other items apart from t-shirt and hoodie apparel that we were going to sell. There was also the fact that we were hiring an intern to help merchandise and get a move on with the packaging. By the rate we were going, it was going to take weeks until we were able to ship out. We’d seriously overestimated our abilities last week and I know Tim was getting anxious.
Tim. I had a meeting with him this afternoon about the new line and to show up without a new name still, was kind of ridiculous. I know he didn’t like to put pressure on me because I was dealing with John (pity party much?), but I know he was waiting for it.

“G’mornin’,” John greeted sleepily, rolling onto his side and draping an arm across my stomach, his eyes still closed.

“Morning,” I murmured, leaning down and kissing him on the forehead.

“How long you been up?’ He mumbled, burying his face into my shoulder.

“Little while,” I said softly, wincing when I got a sniff of him. “You need to shower, babe.”

“I showered last night,” he pouted.

“Your hair’s all greasy.” I mumbled, sitting up properly, raising my hand to his forehead. “And you’re heating up, you must have sweated through the night.”

“I feel gross,” He mused.

I rolled my eyes and pulled the covers away, somewhat shocked to find red scratches gracing his arms, and a few on his neck. “John get up,” I pushed, literally nudging him to get him to wake up.

“What?” He frowned, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“You must’ve been doing this when you were sleeping, did you have a bad dream again?” I asked gently, looking into his eyes. This wasn’t conscious self-harm, that much I knew for sure.

He shrugged. “I honestly don’t remember, babe.”

“You should’ve woken me up,” I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I sat cross legged beside him. “I don’t mind if you do that, bub.”

“But you need your sleep,” he murmured, “I didn’t even…” he looked down at his arms and I swear his eyes went glassy. “I’ve gotta meet up with the guys,” he mumbled, climbing out of bed immediately and heading for the bathroom. “I’ll see you tonight!” He called, before slamming the door shut behind him, leaving me nothing but confusion as I sat in bed.

What the hell was that about?

I climbed out of bed and followed him to the bathroom, lightly tapping on the door for his attention. “John?” I called softly.

“I’m having a shower, I’ll see you later, Leighton.” He called back, before cutting me off further by turning on the water.

I stood back, more than confused. My mind lingered dangerously, as I began to wonder if it was self-harm and I should begin to worry about that. I mean, it wouldn’t be too crazy, considering he did have depression so it wouldn’t be completely ruled out. But of course, if I even thought of asking him if he was hurting himself he’d probably hurt me.

Sorry, not funny.

True, but not funny.

I decided to leave him alone and instead, got ready for work. I had a meeting with Tim today and I
couldn’t all behind and end up missing it. He said it was urgent and important- I couldn’t miss it. I got changed quickly, throwing on a pair of skinny jeans and a Tom Waits t-shirt with my leather jacket (I’d found it at the back of my closet) and black heeled boots. I did my hair and make-up in the downstairs bathroom, before grabbing my bag and heading out, shooting him a text message before dodging the rain to get to my car.

I love you xx talk to me if you need to x

I wasn’t going to push him until he couldn’t be pushed anymore- I was going to start respecting his privacy and let him come to me. He was a grown man- he was twenty five years old and I know he could take care of himself. He was John O’Callaghan- he’d spent his years from nineteen to twenty three alone, making all sorts of friends in all sorts of bars. He went through the stage of adult loneliness in front of everyone, all of his friends- it put a big pressure on me when we started dating, because I felt that relief from all of his friends, I felt them just go ‘oh yeah, she’ll be around forever, we’re good’ and it was stressful for me. But I think John saw that, even at the naïve age of twenty three- an age I wasn’t even turning until next year, being only twenty one.

I know, sometimes I forgot how old I was.

But John was considerate with how young I was, and how I’d only ever really been in one relationship before him. He’d admitted that he’d never been in a serious relationship, only had one and off girlfriends before me. So coming this far was a big deal to the both of us, I mean come on, a year and eight months? By December it’d be two years- two years with John O’Callaghan…sometimes it was still so fresh and new, yet other days it felt like I couldn’t imagine my life without him. Some days we wanted to strangle (alright maybe a different euphemism) each other and other days…we could be highly affectionate and totally invade public barriers, according to Eric.

At the end of the day, it was us.

***

“Alright I’m going to see Tim!” I called as I left my office, switching the light off behind me.

“We’ll need a key to lock up,” Tate called back.

I stopped on my way out and worked the warehouse key off of the key ring, before walking over to the group and handing the key to Tate. “Be here extra early tomorrow, okay? I’ll take it to the key guy and get you all a copy tomorrow.” I assured.

“Only took you two years,” Jack smirked.

I rolled my eyes and smacked him over the head as I walked past him. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow, keep brainstorming a name for our new line.”

“Got it boss!”

I rolled my eyes playfully as I left the warehouse, quickly jogging to my car to dodge the rain. I know it was only a five minute walk, but I was heading straight home after the meeting and couldn’t be bothered walking back in the rain for my car when I could drive straight out.

I was walking into the 8123 building just under ten minutes later, more nervous than I’d been before about seeing Tim. When I saw him sitting at the board desk in the ‘conference room’ with a smile on his face, I instantly calmed down.

“Hey darlin, how are you?” Tim greeted, standing from his seat and giving me a hug.

“Yeah good, you?” I nodded, hugging him back before taking a seat beside him around the table.

“Yeah not too bad,” he nodded back, shifting through the file he always had on him. “Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about the new line.”

Shit.

My palms started repulsively sweating as he brought it up. We’ve only been discussing this project for four weeks and I still hadn’t thought of a name for it. Would he fire me for not thinking up a name? Or worse, put me in the packaging department? Oh god what if he-

“So does that sound alright with you?” He asked with a smile, breaking me from my current panic attack.

“What?’ I asked nervously. “Sorry, I missed that.”

“Typical,” he laughed, sitting back in his chair. Why was he in such a good mood? “I said, I want to offer you a promotion. I want you to take on the line as your own, your debut in the fashion world or whatever, because I know it’s what your passionate about. We’ll get an intern to fill the position of whoever you choose to take over your job of manning the warehouse. This will be your full time job.”

I was stunned. He’d really been paying close attention to how much I wanted this. I knew that by committing myself to the line, I wouldn’t be able to do both jobs, even though I loved my position I had now, I wasn’t doing a lot of designing work. With this, I’d be able to work with the stylists and photographers on the sets of shoots and actually get more involved than I have been recently.

But I still really loved my position, I liked that maternal feeling, helping everyone get their work done, having everything under control, it was my thing. I wasn’t ready to let go of it just yet.

Tim must’ve sensed this because he spoke up just as my thoughts started to linger. “I’m not saying you need to give me an answer straight away, I know what you’re thinking, Leighton.” He assured, “I know it’s a big decision, and if you’re really split up about it, you can keep your old position and still take on the new one, and we’ll hire an intern to help you out with extra work.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Like an assistant?”

Tim let out a laugh, nodding. “Just like an assistant.”

I pondered the thought for a moment. I could make that work with an extra hand… I looked up and nodded. “I’ll take it.”

***

“God you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, coming up behind me in the bathroom to drop his hands onto my hips. As soon as I got home that night at six I jumped in the shower and rushed to get ready, incredibly excited about tonight. Like I’ve said before, he hasn’t taken this initiative in months.

I blushed, dropping my head after finishing my make-up. “Get off, you big goober.”

“Oh come on,” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around my waist. He wore a blazer over a simple t-shirt, hiding the scratches on his arms. It made it even more obvious and I couldn’t stop staring at his arms. “How was your day?” He asked softly, his lips in my hair.

“Alright,” I nodded, turning around to face him. Being in such close proximity with him sent goose bumps up my arms. “Tim gave me a promotion, the new line…it’s all mine.”

His eyes widened. “Seriously?”

I nodded, a smile growing on my lips. “Yup. I’m taking over.”

“That’s amazing!” He exclaimed, pulling me into his chest for a hug. I haven’t felt this kind of warm reception from him in a long time, it was nice. “Congratulations babe.”

“Thanks,” I chuckled, lifting my head to kiss him quickly. “We’re going to hire an intern assistant so I
can still run the merch wing, and I know I’ll be getting a lot more work, but it’s my line, y’know? It’s completely mine.”

“That’s amazing,” he murmured, pressing his lips to my forehead. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks,” I blushed, pulling away and taking his hand. “Are we ready to go?”

He nodded, kissing me one last time before following me down to the front door. “Don’t try and downplay this, Lei, you deserve to brag- you’ve been working so hard.”

“I know,” I nodded, assuring him as I grabbed my phone. “I’m just worried about not having a name for the line is all.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something soon,” John assured, locking the door behind us.

“I hope so.” I mused, following him out to his car. I liked his truck much better than my small black BMW…it was loud and rough and…I blushed at the possible reference to the driver of the vehicle and got into the passenger seat beside him.

“What?” He asked, nudging me before pulling out of the driveway, clearly noticing the color of my cheeks.

“Nothin’,” I shook my head quickly before looking out the side of the window. “It’s nothing.”

“So you weren’t thinking of me…in bed…underneath you-“

“John!” I hissed, grabbing his free hand and squeezing it violently.

“Darlin’ you always blush when you think dirty thoughts.” John smirked, squeezing my hand back.

“Oh shut up,” I scoffed, dropping his hand. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“I am not!” He exclaimed, “it’s so obvious!”

“Is not,” I mumbled, crossing my arms.

“Oh my god you were??” He asked, kind of shocked. “What were you thinking? Oh my god you have to tell me now.”

“I wasn’t thinking about you,” I lied.

“Oh yeah right,” He scoffed, sending me a smirk. “That’s okay, you can tell me later, when I’m actually underneath you-“

“John!”

***

About an hour later we were maturely sitting at a table by the window in Romereo’s, stealing bites of each other’s meals. It was nice, we weren’t fighting and he wasn’t in another mood, and even better, we hadn’t gotten any bad side effects from the new medication.

We were good, right now we were good.

“Thanks, for tonight.” I spoke up, as he swallowed a mouthful of my pasta. “This is nice.”

“We haven’t done it in a while.” He nodded slowly, looking at me subtly.

“Well you’ve been on tour-“

“I’ve been depressive, y’mean.” He scoffed.

“John-“

“I get it, okay? I’ve been a recluse and I can admit that.” He shrugged bluntly. I hated when he’d turn all arrogant and abuse himself like this. It made me feel bad and all I was trying to do was calm him down.

“So how was your day?” I asked, attempting to change the topic.

“You mean before or after I walked out like a child and ignored you? Like I treated you like you didn’t deserve for the thousandth time in our relationship? In the past eight months?” He scoffed.

“John don’t start this now,” I pleaded with a sigh.

He sat back and put his fork down, his hand shaking. Had I spoken too soon about the side effects?
“You said we had to talk, this is me talking.” He said firmly. “I don’t know why you haven’t left yet, I treat you like absolute shit.”

No. We weren’t going to do this now.

“John-“

“Shit,” he breathed heavily, dropping his head into his hands, his elbows on the table. The sleeves on his jacket slid down when he moved and the scratches were evident, in the same state as this morning. “I’m such an asshole- you’re going to leave me, and I’m going to have to move in with Jac and Eric because I can’t live in that house alone, and we’re never going to see each other again and I’ll literally die alone- I can’t…” His breathing was increasing again.

Panic attack.

“John?” I asked softly, filling the empty water glass with water and sliding it over to him. “John drink some water and take a deep breath, baby.”

His hand shook violently- too violently for him to even think about holding the glass. I grabbed the straw from my drink and dropped it into the water, lifting it so he could drink. Tears dripped from his long blonde eyelashes but he wiped them away before he thought I could see them.

“C’mon,” I said softly, “let’s go home. We’ll get this to go.”

“I’m so sorry-“

“Doesn’t matter,” I said, shaking my head as I put the glass down. “I just want you to be okay. Let’s go home.”

Within ten minutes we were walking out of the restaurant and I was driving us home while he sat in the passenger seat, trying to be a ‘man’ about everything and not show me how he was really feeling, even though I already knew. I tried to let him deal with it like I said I would, but...sometimes I couldn't help it.

“Shit pull over I’m gonna be sick.”

There we go.