Pandemonium

My heart was hammering wildly in my chest, threatening to burst as I rushed into the kennel room, suddenly very interested in the activities there that I would normally dictate to one of my subordinates. Anything to get me on the opposite side of the building as soon as possible. I only had two hours of my shift left I just had to stall.

The strong smell of disinfectant hit my nose almost immediately once I opened the door. The only assistant that was in the small room was Sophie, a small Latina girl a few years younger than me who was busying herself filling out patient charts in between sanitizing unused cages. There were only three filled spaces, one was a cat who had a particularly long dental cleaning that morning due to having to get thirteen teeth pulled, a borderline geriatric Chihuahua who had been spayed, and a little scruffy mutt who had to have a biopsy done on a mass growing on his inner thigh. All three animals were conscious and watched me through the bars of their designated cages.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” my voice came out much more demanding than I’d meant it to. I mentally kicked myself and told myself to chill the fuck out.

“Huh? Oh, um not really Wynter but thank you,” she replied, her own tone revealing she’d been just as surprised I’d asked as I was. She gave me an intuitive look over the rims of her glasses before going back to her paperwork indifferently.

“Are you sure? Anything at all?” I insisted, glancing between her and the caged pets quickly. I was getting desperate. Unfortunately, my options were limited and after another stern no I was forced back up front. I was beginning to feel like a snared animal, ready to chew off a trapped limb to get to freedom.

Just as I passed the room that contained my ex, the door opened revealing Tracie and the doctor on duty. The older vet tech had Bam’s cat in her hands who was laying there limply. They both gave me a grim glance and my heart sunk.

“It was too late, we had to euthanize,” Tracie informed me, laying Tiny on an available table gently, tucking his tail underneath him. It looked just like he was asleep from where I was standing.

“Oh no…” I mumbled, and just as I approached the curled-up feline and laid a hand on his flank in sympathy, I heard a choked sob coming from the waiting room.

Bam.

“Do you want to finish up this appointment Wyn? He didn't want to sit with the cat once he was gone,” Tracie asked, looking from the door to me.

I swallowed and sighed. I had to be there for Bam. Tiny was one of his favorite cats and he was my family.

“Yeah I’ll handle it from here,” I managed, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling in my chest. She filled me in on what all we needed to go over before I made my way toward the door that suddenly seemed way too close for comfort.

I figured eventually I would see Ville again; he was one of Bam’s closest friends. I had hoped that day was far off in the future though. Maybe he hadn’t recognized me? I could only imagine what he’d been doing since our time together and I’m sure he’d been busy with any number of other women. He was Ville fucking Valo. I was just some young, dumb teenager who’d fallen for his kind words and green eyes. I didn’t matter to him; I was another conquest.

Trembling at the memory, I had to bite my lip as a fresh pain hit me, I hadn’t felt that in years. It was something I had locked away and promised myself I wouldn’t think about again.

Bam was standing against the wall sniveling and Ville was awkwardly attempting to soothe him when I walked in, doing my best to keep my eyes forward and focus on my job. Ville’s eyes were on me in an instant though, acknowledgment and an emotion written all over his face that I couldn’t distinguish. Fuck, well so much for not recognizing me. I broke away first and cleared my throat, doing my best to ignore the elephant in the room.

“Um, Bam,” I began hesitantly, and he turned to face me, his eyes bright red. “Honey we need to discuss some things.”

“Wyn, oh God why couldn’t they save him?” he cried, quite literally almost falling into my arms, hugging me tightly.

Awkwardly patting him on the back and wrapping the other arm around him as well to meet his embrace, I did my best to compose myself.

“The doctor thinks Tiny had encephalitis which means inflammation of the brain. It could be from a stroke, a tumor, any number of things at his age. We can do a necropsy if you’d like an exact diagnosis,” I explained, looking at the white tiled ceiling for strength.

We went over his options, including his wishes for disposing of the body and I had him fill out some paperwork consenting to everything. I refused to acknowledge Ville. I had zero reason to. He was nothing to me, just another client although I did find myself asking myself silently why he was there in the first place. He’d once told me he was allergic to most animals so why he was there and not Missy caught me off guard. I would not ask though; I’d ignore him much like he’d ignored me all those years ago once I’d come looking for answers. That son of a bitch couldn’t even justify his actions with a response.

I could feel my temper rising at the thought and willed the emotions away that were filling my chest. I needed to get my job done and get the fuck out of there so I could clear my head and put as much distance between myself and him as possible.

Once we’d finished up, I finally was able to bid Bam a farewell and see myself out of the room. It was almost half an hour past my shift. Tracie was finishing up the evening tasks, giving me person to leave. Internally I groaned, knowing the practice manager was going to have my ass for going into overtime. Once I was free, I clocked out and began pulling my things out of my locker. I needed to get home and feed Bait, the thought of food making my own stomach growl.

Checking my phone as I said goodbye to the receptionist, I noticed a text from Novak asking if I was home yet. I texted a quick reply explaining I really needed some alone time before piling my things into my car and getting into the driver’s side. Taking a moment to breathe, I pushed my inner turmoil further down. I needed to get ahold of myself.

On the way home I stopped and picked up a bottle of blackberry wine and mint chocolate chip ice cream. I needed to treat myself after the day I had. Pulling up to my apartment eager to be in sweatpants nursing a glass of wine, I glanced up only to find Novak standing outside of my door waiting for me patiently. Rolling my eyes and grabbing my bag along with my purchases, I got out and pursed my lips as he waved at me with a grin. He would forever get under my skin.

“I thought I said I needed some alone time?” I growled, not making eye contact as I struggled to unlock my door with the keys.

“I’ve come to realize that’s when you need me the most,” Novak smiled, taking the keys from my hand and unlocking it for me easily, handing them back to me and keeping the door open for me so I could shuffle in.

“I wouldn’t say that,” I answered, trying not to trip over Bait who was excitedly meowing and trying to rub against my legs.

“What happened? Another hit by car? Parvo puppy?” he inquired as he followed me into the kitchen where I set my things down, popping the ice cream in the freezer so it wouldn't melt.

“No, this was much worse,” I said simply, pulling out the wine, disposing of the plastic bag and grabbing a wine glass from the cupboard above me. I poured myself a generous helping and offered the bottle to Novak who declined. Shrugging, I set it in the fridge to cool while I made dinner.

“Oooh it's gotta be real bad to need a wine and ice cream night... Cancer puppy?” he insisted, trying to get the information out of me.

“Bam was in today. We had to euthanize Tiny,” I gave in, unwilling to put up with the pestering. I began pulling various ingredients out of the fridge and cupboards on auto pilot. Nine times out of ten I would just pick random ingredients and throw them together. Eight times out of ten they turned out pretty decent.

“No shit?” he said shocked. He gave me a sudden sympathetic glance and set a hand on my shoulder. “Did he take it okay? Tiny was one of his oldest cats.”

“No not really. I managed to persuade him to let us do a necropsy on him so we can figure out what exactly happened to him. Poor guy came in ataxic, seizing, and showing other neurological signs,” I explained as I filled a saucepan with water and set it on the stove to boil.

“Damn… you know I love when you talk that sexy medical mumbo jumbo to me even if I don’t understand a word of it,” he chuckled, pulling up one of the kitchen chairs and straddling it.

“It just means something was wrong with his brain,” I clarified, dicing up a cauliflower.

“Hell yeah,” Novak answered, turning his head to the side and went quiet, content to watch me cook instead. I went back to the stove, checking on the water which was starting to bubble.

“Ville was with him,” I said aloud with my back to him so I couldn’t see his face. It felt like a razorblade had slid across my chest as his name left my mouth.

“Excuse me?” Novak was on me in an instant, suddenly all ears and zero humor.

“Yeah, it was fucking awkward.”

“No wonder you look like you’ve seen a ghost. I thought something was off about you; normally you would’ve slammed the door in my face, but you didn’t even fight me this time. Did he do anything, are you okay?” he asked, attempting to rub my shoulders soothingly.

I shook him off, forcing him to take a step back.

“I’m fine. We made eye contact a couple of times but that’s it,” I managed, taking out a box of dry rice and dumping it in the semi boiling water, unwilling to wait and eager to focus on anything but the conversation at hand.

“Wyn, hon,” Novak sighed, obviously wanting to help but unsure how.

“I said I’m fine,” I snapped in his direction, still unable to meet his gaze. I could feel my throat getting tighter.

He exhaled loudly out of frustration but let it go thankfully. I was in no mood to argue with him and he knew it.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” He stepped beside me, looking down at me with a frown. I could see it in his eyes he wanted to pester me about the issue.

“I said no Novak.”

“I meant with the food,” he replied gesturing towards the ingredients with an open hand and giving me a sarcastic glance.

“oh… um, yeah sorry can you grab a casserole dish?” I instructed, pointing towards the cabinet that was just on the other side of him.

“Do you want me to roll up something?”

“Actually, yeah that’d be great,” I gave him a half smile. I needed to fucking relax and get out of my head a little before I went nuts.

I noticed him pursing his lips to hide a grin as he handed me the glassware before making a beeline for the living room for my weed stash.

“I’ll know if you pocket anything!” I warned loudly although the threat was only half-heartedly.

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” his voice answered from the other room.

Finishing assembling the ingredients into the casserole dish, it suddenly hit me.

Without even thinking about it, I’d made the dish Jussi had made for me the night of my birthday. I hadn’t thought about that in years. I wouldn’t allow myself.

Where the fuck did that come from?

I felt another swell of emotions come over me as I thought about ‘the incident’ again. Fuck that’s twice in one day…

I had to choke back long forgotten tears as I shoved the casserole into the oven as fast as I could. Shutting my eyes and rubbing my temples, I begged my brain to just turn the fuck off, but it had other plans.

I pictured Ville, the Northern Lights swirling and dancing around us bathing everything shades of pink and green.

His green eyes. Like a field of sage with a dusting of emerald and gold flecks strewn throughout.

I muttered a curse to myself quietly, tears managing to squeeze through my pinched eyelids as the memory played over and over like a bad film, whether I wanted it to or not.

“Wyn- fuck baby what’s wrong?” I opened my eyes just as Novak was on me, wrapping his arms around me in a protective and soothing fashion. I allowed the embrace as the dam broke, flooding me with emotions I’d long repressed and forgotten. I didn’t have the strength to fight it or him in that moment.

“Fuck-fucking Ville. It’s fucking Ville. Why’d he come here? Why can’t he just go the fuck away and never come back?” I hiccupped, sounding like a child. I mentally scolded myself. I needed to pull myself together. This was not who I was. Not anymore. Wynter Margera did not cry over stupid fucking men. Especially stupid fucking men who used me and then left without even saying goodbye!

“Shh, sweetheart I know,” he did his best to conciliate as I cried into his tee shirt.

“It’s not fucking fair! I-I loved him Novak,” I managed, desperately trying to get ahold of myself.

“I know, I know,” he continued to murmur into the hair of my scalp, occasionally planting a kiss there in a pacifying fashion.

“Hey come on Wyn, let’s go sit in the living room and light this blunt okay? Nothing cures a broken heart better than pushing it away with some illegal drug use,” he pulled me away by my forearms to look at me with a smirk.

I shook my head and gave him the best smile I could muster, choking out a giggle and wiping my eyes, taking my eyeliner with it.

“There’s my girl,” he grinned even bigger and pulled me into the other room.

I didn’t like Novak’s ways, but he was there for me in a way that I didn’t think he would ever be and even now in my weak moment he had only consoled me.

“Why are you so nice to me?” I asked as I sat down on my black overstuffed couch and he handed me my glass of wine I’d forgotten.

“I don’t know… I know what it’s like to not be in control of yourself, I guess. That’s what it’s like to be a junkie after all. A constant battle of winning and losing control. I also know from being around you more than a week how much it bothers you because of everything you’ve been through and you feel like you must micromanage every aspect of your life including your own emotions so you can feel some type of control. I know you Wyn, you're as much of a junkie as me,” he explained, sitting beside me but pulling a leg up so he could face me, one hand held at eye level so he could focus on lighting the blunt.

“You’re calling me a junkie because I lost control of my emotions?” I questioned good-humoredly, taking a long drink of wine before setting it on the glass coffee table and narrowly missing Jailbait who was jumping up to investigate what we were doing.

“Yeah I mean what’s the difference? Losing control over a dude and crying when you've made it your life's mission to never show emotion ever again or losing control of your life and banging dope-same difference. We’re both addicts babe- just different highs,” he clarified, taking the first hit and exhaling as he handed the swisher sweet to me before continuing, “why do you think we get along so well?”

“I wouldn’t say we get along, but I see your point,” I snickered, inhaling the smoke and enjoying the familiar burn in my lungs. The wine was already creating a nice buzz but the weed would kill any chance left standing of a repeat of the kitchen episode.

“Best fiends,” He grinned, taking the blunt from me to hit it again.

“Best fiends indeed,” I laughed, exhaling the smoke through my mouth as I did so.