These Four Words

It had been three days since John and I had gotten into our little argument and I could not bare it anymore. I was frustrated by not having anyone to talk to and I was very frustrated, sexually. I haven’t been able to accomplish anything at work and my presentation was due in two weeks. I groaned in frustration for the tenth time that day.

“Can I get you another coffee Ms. Taylor?” My assistant popped her head in catching me off guard.

“No thank you, Annabelle.” She gave me a sympathetic smile and walked out of my office. Even my assistant could tell that I was struggling. I was being hard-headed.

“Fine he can have his way,” I kicked up my feet and dialed his number. John picked up on the last ring.

“Yes?” He sounded annoyed, yet hopeful.

“I’m sorry?” I didn’t know how I should start this off.

“Are you really sorry?”

I sighed, “I’m sorry with the way everything came out but I’m not sorry about what I said.”

“For fucks sake.” I groaned resisting the urge to slam my head down, this was not going well. “Why are you calling me then?”

“Because I still need a friend and I think you could use me as a friend too.” John snorted a laugh, “You have to admit John, we can and will only be friends. Friends who happen to fuck every now and again but nothing else.” I added the last part quickly.

“I don’t think I can do that.”

“Then we can just be friends who don’t find each other attracting.” I reasoned holding back another frustrated groan. “I just need you in my life right now. I haven’t had a friend like you in such a long time that it’s breaking my heart not talking to you. I don’t care if we don’t have sex, I don’t need the sex. I need the companionship.” It was honest. I went a few years without sex, I think I could handle a few months.

It was silent on the line for a good minute, “I don’t know if I can. I think I am developing feelings for you.”

All the air left my body, “You can’t.”

“Why would it be so bad?”

“I can think of at least two good reasons right now. Look if you can’t be friends I understand, no harm. I just need to know what your answer is.”

John sighed, “It’s friends or nothing?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll see you tonight.”

I smiled, “Thank you.” I put the phone down ending the call and I felt as if my day was turned around, until Annabelle ran into my office looking frantic.

“What’s wrong?”

“There is a magazine editor calling on line 3 for a very big favor and he is asking specifically for you.”

“I don’t do any work for any other magazine Annabelle, you know this.” I told her crossing my arms. I worked exclusively for Vogue.

“He wont take no for an answer and he says that you owe him.”

This peeked my curiosity, “What magazine?”

“Uh I can’t quite remember I think it is AP?” My eyes grew wide.

“Transfer him to my line.” Annabelle nodded walking briskly out of my office. Moments later my line rang and I grabbed it as quickly as I could.

“Jason?”

I heard his familiar laugh through the speaker. Jason Pettigrew was the editor in chef at Alternative Press magazine. He had offered me my first job there as a columnist and then later helped me land this amazing job at Vogue. I owed him much more than a favor; I honestly owed him my life. He helped me change my identity when I thought Kyle had found me back in 2013 and then helped me get on my feet. Jason Pettigrew was the older brother I never had.

“Erin, I didn’t think I would actually get through to you.”

I laughed, “I know I’m actually somebody now. So what can I help you out with?”

“Well this band that has this amazing upcoming album is releasing their first single tonight and I need you to do a video interview with them.”

I nodded my head. It wasn’t really my style but I could handle interviews on the red carpet and it couldn’t be much harder than that. “Yeah sure I mean anything for you Jason.”

“Thank you so much Erin you are a damn lifesaver—“

“It is Ophelia now.” I corrected with a smile, he had the worst time remembering my name wasn’t actually Erin anymore even if he was there to sign the witness papers.

“Yeah, yeah Ophelia. I’m so mad at this reporter for getting the stomach flu before this interview of a life time.”

“Well I’m happy to be of service. So when and where is this interview?”

Jason laughed, “straight to the point as always. We have a small recording studio outside of New York that you will be meeting there with the band around seven tonight. Should I send you a car? Isn’t that the fashion industry does it?”

I rolled my eyes, “I can take a cab. I’ll transfer you back to my assistant so she can get all the details. One last question.”

“Shoot!”

“What band am I interviewing?”

“Some pop-punk band called All Time Low.” I could feel the bile rising up in my throat and my ears began to ring loudly. I could only hear the sound of my breathing and my heart pounding through my chest. My vision became blurry and I thought I was going to lose coconsciousness. “—I would literally be so fucked without you Ophelia, like lose my job fucked.”

I couldn’t process what was going on I could only sit there and nod my head. I was going to have to see Alex. In less than eight hours. “Thank you again Ophelia,” and the line went dead before I could do anything about this situation. I needed a fucking drink and a smoke. I stood up quickly, almost falling over, and grabbed my coat.

“Ophelia!” Alexis called after me as I ran out the lobby without any word to anyone. I threw on my jacket and made a mad dash to the first convince store I spotted in Midtown. I ran in and got a pack of marblo menthol lights and a blue lighter. I stepped outside and lit my first cigarette in about a year. The smoke filled my lings and I exhaled. The nicotine made me feel invincible. I could feel my phone buzzing in my side pocket and I answered it without looking at the caller ID.

“What the hell is going on?”

I took a deep inhale of the last of my cigarette, “We have a big problem.”