LIFE HAS BECOME enjoyable even for someone like me. I have matured more to the extent that I have learnt to love myself. Of course, it is still a slow process, but what matters most is the progress.

I've worked at Libby's Bath for five months now, and my colleagues there are so outrageously genial and cordial that I have even opened up to them. Naturally, I have not revealed to them about my tragic childhood and mostly converse about light topics such as favourite food, singer, store for instance, but as aforementioned, progress.

My social circle has grown from Pat to Joaquim to three more colleagues- Hailey, Malcolm and Elias. I did not include Libby as in my earnest opinion, there is a need to draw a line between an employer and employee. And that line must never be crossed. Libby's coming to my loft was pushing it, and I'll never make the same error again.

All this while while I've been revelling in this new jolly chapter of my life, I have become complacent and even became confident that nothing will shatter my current untroubled bliss.

But good things come to an end.

This time, Pat was the one who made my temporary gaiety come crashing down.

___

You know how people say that 'the happiest people are the ones who suffer most'? Or something similar to that?

That was proved true when it happened to Pat.

I had grown, but Pat had not. Up until this particular incident, Pat was like the Megalithic Temples of Malta- timeless, elegant, dignified and significant.

Pat, however, was so impacted by the incident that she lost her shine, lost her overflowing hopefulness. Her contagious ebullience disappeared without a trace and in its place was a dour solemnity. In the 2019 solar eclipse, the Moon covered the Sun and was mulishly unbudging for two minutes.

The Sun recovered from that and retook her pinnacle of power and continued to reign, high and free, while chasing the usurper away. The Moon and Sun were then returned to their respective places, and all was right with the universe, and it continued operating in the manner where things were meant to be.

That did not happen to Pat. 

Pat was so hurt by her boyfriend's betrayal that she lost herself to the alluring pit of desperation, and became a sorrowful soul while she was there. Patricia lost her smile and her inner glow, and she suffered so much that the light at the end of the tunnel was visible to everyone but her.

As I watched her cry, waves of immense guilt repeatedly crashed over me as if urging me to drown in them. The only reason I was able to stand my ground was because I had a stronger mentality and Joaquim.

Together, both Joaq and I tried with our utmost efforts to pull her out of her skunk. We tried to get her to talk to us and barely succeed in getting her to join a karaoke. We hoped that if she didn't want to piece her feelings in the form of words, perhaps she could vent them out through songs. After all, Pat was more emotionally sensitive and more of a sensual person than we are.

Keeping in mind that people coped in a myriad of infinite ways, Joaq and I brought her to sing her heart out. Our plan worked, but our fury grew.

Every song she sang was Taylor Swift's and Selena Gomez's heartbreak songs. Every song she sung spoke volumes of how high of a pedestal she had placed her ex on; every song expressed her sincere love for him; every song highlighted the inner turmoil Pat was experiencing and going through.

You see, the reason for Pat's break-up was because of her ex-boyfriend, Caden. He dated her for only one reason, and that wasn't because he found her pretty or intelligent. He dated her to climb up the social ladder and to pull strings. Once he had achieved his selfish goals, he left her to jump in the lap of luxury that was promised to him.

I don't know who I was more crossed with- me or Caden.

I should have asked why Pat was drinking so much during the night of my party. I should have enquired about the ongoings of her life after I ended work. I shouldn't have turned my attention to Joaq. I shouldn't have befriended more people- they caused me to neglect my true friend.

But it was too late to cry over spilt milk, so Joaquim and I were now drafting a plan to get Pat to open up to us. Or at the very least, me.

"I should initiate it. I'll talk to her when Pat is jollier. I know her best."

"Well, are you planning to do it over tea or-"

"I already said that I am going to start the convo with her. I don't need you." 'To tell me what to do' was the sentence I had in mind, but it's apparent that my brain works faster than my mouth.

Not one to easily mask his feelings, the sadness in his eyes flashed for a second too long in his eyes and it took all of my strength to not back down from his upset gaze. "I don't get where you're so hurt. Are you a baby? I don't need you, I never did, so just leave me alone. You also don't need me; you'll get nothing out of this. Why, did you think by helping me I'll take shots of you for your IG? Leave. The door's on your right." I taunted him mockingly.

My tactic was a success. The sadness now erased and in its place was furiousity, Joaquim left wordlessly and slammed the front door close.

I wished the tactic was a failure. I wanted him to come back and tell me not to close off and be more forgiving to myself.

I wanted him to hug me tight and assure me that everything will be ok.

In a way, I spoke the truth. He didn't need me.

It was I who needed him.

___

"Pat, talk to me."

Pangs of guilt come in relentless waves when I realise that it's been ages since I have been to Pat's ranch-style home. Some people may think that it is designed with a cowboy feel to it because of the word 'ranch', but it's the exact opposite of it.

Since it is Pat's home, it naturally has her own individual style and touch to it. The moment you step in it, you are bathed in a romantical vibe as all the walls are of a light palette. The interior of the house literally screams 'Patricia' as her name adorns the left side of her living room wall in a cursive font.

As Pat does not answer me, I wander about her home, smiling as memories of us decorating her house comes back to me. I painted the mint colour of her great room and helped her frame pictures of her family, friends and us on various parts of her foyer. When Pat bought her home, she was only 19, and the money came from her trust fund. She moved away from her family as she could no longer take her parents constant arguing due to her dad's job as a politician.

Patricia used to critic her family in these manners:

"The worst part about living there is that they are obsessed with appearances. If my mum isn't picture-perfect, if the French chef didn't serve her the proper amount of avocado, lobster, pasta and creme brulee for her breakfast, she will throw a fit. If dad's tux even has a tiny crease in it, he will fire the helper on the spot."

"When I have no school, mum likes to take the private jet and fly me to New York so she can buy me dresses from Harrods. She interferes in every aspect of my life from school to hobbies to the foods I eat and even what I am wearing. Back in secondary school, she'll pepper me with questions like 'So are you dating the minister's son yet? Don't forget, his name is Gideon. Dating him will boost your dad's chances of promotion!'. Things like that. Gosh, she feels more like a paparazzi than a real mother."

These are the main reasons for Pat's leaving them. Unable to stand the superficiality of it all, Pat hired her own lawyer when she reached the age of 18 and successfully won the battle to live on her own the day before she turned 19. As Pat likes to put it, it was fate.

Since the family matter was done in private, there was no scandal or damages to her father's reputable and polished career. With the Sils's image intact, Pat began to live a life of her own and was free of the shackles at long last.

Obviously, it didn't hurt that she was permitted by the law that she could dig into her trust fund. However, the Songjirian state only allowed her to use 35% of it, which meant that she could only use $700,000.

The price of the house (including the renovations costs) amounted to a whooping $400,000. But that didn't really matter to Pat as she was employed in a stable job as an interior designer so it was worth it to her.

How I wish things can return to its former state for Pat's sake. If I were still lonely and unhappy, Pat would've been occupied with me. She would never have met Caden, right? This is all my fault. I must fix this.

"Pat," I called again, and entered her bedroom.

For once, the rosy pink of the room did not match Pat's mood. Everything surrounding her was in stark contrast to her as every thing was so bright and shiny, and yet Pat was hugging a navy coat to her.

"Pat..." I patted her hair lightly and brushed away stray strands of hair away. Pat's eyes and face were swollen and puffy- likely because of her crying- and her face was red as a tomato. Her hands clutched the navy coat tightly to her heart and she kept sniffing it every now and then. The coat was like an onion- with each sniff, she would end up sobbing tearfully.

"Is that Caden's coat?" after observing her behaviour whenever she touched the coat, it didn't take long for me to guess whose coat it was. "No, Pat, leave it. Give me the coat," I demanded as I tried to snatch it away from her.

"NO NO NO, GIVE IT BACK- NO, NO ONE CAN TAKE HIM AWAY FROM ME AGAIN!" Pat thundered as she slapped my hands away from the coat. I did my best to hold on to it, but I ended up failing. While I rubbed my pained hands, Pat cuddled her coat as if it was a precious baby and whispered sweet nothings to it.

The situation was worse than I had originally thought.

She isn't broken over by the break-up; she's scarred by it.

"Stop this Pat! You're in freaking denial! HE'S NO LONGER WITH YOU! IT'S OVER!" Unable to tolerate Pat's constant grieving, I exploded the way Mount Esuvius did and snap. I was ready to bury her in my ash and preserve her form forever and remember her as the cheery friend I had loved and cherished.

Like a crackle of thunder, Pat changed instantaneously when she heard that. She started screaming at the top of her lungs, "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH HE MEANT TO ME? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH I RELIED ON HIM? CADEN WAS MINE; CADEN WAS MY LIFE."

"WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU DEPEND ON HIM WHEN YOU HAD ME? AND I'M YOURS TOO! WE'RE FRIENDS FOREVER!"

"YOU WERE NEVER MINE WHEN YOU AND JOAQUIM GOT CLOSE! I DEPENDED ON CADE BECAUSE YOU SUDDENLY HAD A LIFE!"

Sorry for the long chapter!! I ended this on an emotionally-charged cliffhanger hehe (don't hate me!) 

Is this the end of Pat's and Iri's 9 year friendship? Will the two never get over this? Will this mean an end to Iri's and Joaq's blossoming relationship?

What do you think will happen to them so far? Let me know by commenting; I'm really curious!