Runaways

Lydia groaned in an over dramatic fashion as her phone began ringing. She'd been staring at the same blank canvas for the past twenty minutes, hoping for some kind of inspiration. And just when she thought she was finally getting somewhere, her phone rang. Her mind was a distraction today, drifting back to Paul and the discovery she made about him a few days ago.

She fished the phone out of her back pocket with a grumble and pressed 'answer' without actually checking to see who it was. Thankfully it was no one of consequence. This time.

"Hello?"

"Bonjour, Darling!"

"Good afternoon, Jet," Lydia smirked.

"How is my darling girl doing?" Jet was a rather affectionate person and her terms of endearment were no different. At first it took some time to get used to, but by now Lydia all but craved the affection and sweetness.

"I'm good, Jet. I'm good."

"Mhmm. And how's Paul?"

Lydia sighed into the phone. "I don't know. Probably just as fine as he was when you asked about him last time."

"You haven't seen him in days, have you?" Jet inquired with a slightly teasing chuckle.

"No," she groaned. "He's always gone by the time I get up." The last time she saw him was four days ago, a day after he asked her to look him up online. This time he had his guitar case and a bag with him.

"So mysterious," Jet snickered. "Are you missing the old man already?"

"Oh like you're one to talk." Her friend has been involved with a much older musician for a few months now. Despite living in two different countries, things were going rather well between them.

"I may not see him everyday but at least I still talk to him. You need to get that man’s number.”

“Yes, I know. I’m very aware of this.”

“If you are aware of it, then do it. You need to talk things out.”

Lydia snorted as she stood up from her stool and walked over to the couch, plopping down onto the soft cushions and spreading out. Despite the exasperation and teasing, she knew that her best friend was trying to be encouraging and supportive. She just had her own way of going about it. “He makes me nervous,” she whispered. “What little confidence we’ve built up is just...gone when he’s around. It’s like I can’t think straight.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Jet sighed into the phone. Her heart broke for her friend. Because of her mother picking everyone out for her, Lydia never got the chance to experience these feelings or what it was like to have a real crush. Until now. And to top it off, she had to work through all that while recovering from all the abuse her ex-husband put her through. “Do you want to know what I think?” After hearing a hum of confirmation, she continued, “I think you have feelings for Paul. I think you’ve finally met someone who checks off all those little boxes on the list. And it scares the hell out of you because of that fucking moron of an ex-husband. So you’re desperately trying to push down and smother those feelings until they no longer exist. But darling, they do exist. And they will continue to until one day you can’t contain them anymore and you have to express them.”

“How can you be so fucking perceptive all the way from Paris?” Lydia groaned. Because of course Jet knew exactly how she was feeling.

“I do what I can,” she laughed.

“What do I do?”

“Whatever you feel comfortable with,” Jet advised. "Just start with that.”

Lydia groaned and confessed, “I don’t even know how to feel that yet."

“Have you tried talking to him about this?” she asked gently.

Another groan. “No.”

“Then go talk to him! I don’t care if you have to be drunk to do it, but you need to explain how you feel.” She’d only been drunk twice in her life and each time she was very chatty and a bit too truthful.

“I know I do. But the very thought of it scares me,” Lydia confessed. “Telling him anything about my life scares me, let alone my feelings.”

“And that’s okay,” Jet assured. “Everyone gets scared. Hell, even I get scared! But if it excites you even though it scares you, maybe you should give it a shot. Give him a shot. And you know what, if anything happens that you don’t want, I can just come down there and kill him.”

Laughter swept freely through Lydia. "I can see the headlines now! 'Famed art critic and gallery owner kills unsuspecting man for making best friend cry'." After the laughter died down from both sides, she continued. "Thank you, Jet. I really needed this today.”

“You’re welcome, Darling. And don’t hesitate to call me, okay? I’ll be happy to listen.”

“I know.” A knock on the door cut Lydia off from saying anything else. Tilting the phone away from her mouth to call a, “just a second!” she quickly turned her attention back to her friend. “I’m gonna let you go. I’ve got someone at my door.”

“Maybe it’s Paul,” Jet teased. Upon hearing her friends scoff, she snickered. “Alright. I’ll call you in a few days. Goodbye, Darling.”

“Bye,” Lydia chuckled before hanging up the phone. She quickly scrambled off the couch and to the door. Pulling it open, she was surprised to see Paul standing there. The phrase ‘Speak of the devil and he shall appear’ immediately came to mind. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Paul echoed and nervously cleared his throat, “Have you had dinner yet?” Friends went out to dinner all the time, right? What was he thinking, of course they did. He had dinner with the guys all the time. So the same has to apply to being friends with girls. Didn’t it?

She frowned and shook her head. “No. Is it already time for that?”

He chuckled and nodded. “It’s already after six.”

“Oh,” she blushed. “I guess I got caught up trying to paint.”

“So, how about it?”

The conversation she had mere minutes ago with Jet began flooding her brain. Him showing up almost felt like a sign. And they couldn’t exactly ignore what happened the last time they were together. “Um, could I uh..talk to you about something first?”

Paul frowned and asked, “Is everything alright?” Mentally he was already preparing for the fallout of letting her know who he really was. Because that just had to be what this was about. There was no way she was okay with being friends with some musician who played music about cannibalism and used fire in their stage show on a regular basis.

“No? Maybe? I don’t know,” Lydia confessed. “I just want to talk to you about this before I lose my confidence.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Whatever you need.”

“Thank you. Um, do you wanna come in? This might take a while to get out.”

“Yeah, sure. Absolutely.”

Maybe he’s just as nervous as I am, Lydia thought to herself while letting him inside.