chapter song - bang bang by GRAE

Breathing is hard.

It's supposed to be second nature. You're not supposed to think about it. But there have been so many times that I've sat, panic consuming me and I've had to remind my body how to breathe. I feel like a fish having come out of water for the first time. A baby stumbling on its legs for the first time. Muscle memory does nothing to help me. I feel like I have to relearn everything all over again.

And sometimes I feel like I'm doing it wrong.

Sometimes, like now, I sit on a little bench outside a corporate building in the financial district, people in suits bustling off the streetcar that stops at the intersection to get to work, and I can't breathe. And even when I manage to get a tiny sip of air, it feels like it does nothing.

The oxygen barely hits my brain. Nothing calms me down. I feel like my body is going into panic, trying to protect me yet somehow it's also hurting me. Making my chest spasm, my throat dry and tight, my eyes feel like they're about to bulge out.

I gasp, ragged and sharp and then cough as the air hits me, doubling over in my seat on the bench, head almost between my knees. A warm breeze ruffles at my hair as I gasp in long breaths. Fuck, so that's how you breathe.

My body hurts and my chest aches as it pounds.

Calm down, fuck, just calm down.

The weight of my phone in my pocket is overwhelming. Part of me wants to immediately take it out and call the lawyers back.

What the hell are you talking about?

What do you mean Jacob KcKinnon was arrested?

Why the hell did I file that report against him? Now I'm going to have to go through everything again.

I stand, sighing and I look up, the sun blinding me.

"I can't keep doing this," I whisper to myself.

I finally do pull my phone out after I grab a coffee and sit down in a nearby dog park. I wait for Tally to pick up as it rings and her breathless voice hurriedly calls out, "Hey, hi, you're not coming home right now are you?"

"Not really the way I want you to answer the phone," I say. "Everything good?"

"Yep, no, it's great," she says and I hear her stumble over something in the background.

"Did you just fall over?" I ask incredulously. "I have like five pieces of furniture you can't have tripped."

"No, no," Tally laughs. "I didn't fall, I caught myself."

I blink and then roll my eyes, exasperated. "Anyway, is Fig okay?"

"Oh Fig's great. I'm just running around, taking care of him, you know. Endless tasks to make him happy."

"He's a cat, Tal, you just have to feed him and pet him and then back off when he tries to bite you."

"He bites?!" Tally shrieks.

"He won't make you bleed." I reassure her. "He knows not to actually hurt anyone. But cat's get over sensitized and he mock-bites when he wants you to stop petting him."

"Oh. Oh okay, that's fine, I can deal with that!"

"Great," I laugh nervously, already picturing the apartment an entire mess. I really hope nothing is broken. Rent already feels impossible to pay for.

"Are you good? Done your errands already?" she asks.

"No, um," I start. "I'm going to be out a little later. Probably won't be back until closer to six. Do you want me to pick up dinner on the way back?"

"Yeah! Actually, Tyler recommended a place nearby," she says.

I jolt slightly. "Tyler? When did you talk to him?"

"Uh...we bumped into each other earlier when I went out," she says.

"Oh, well I mean I guess it's bound to happen right? He practically lives down the street."

"He seemed excited to get coffee with you on Tuesday," Tally says hesitantly and I fight back a loud sigh.

I don't really know why I agreed to it. I know I was caught up in the moment because I really never expected to come across Tyler in the same way ever again. And maybe it's weird because we officially met again when neither of us can really remember. But now, I'm just worried. What if this is a mistake? What if this isn't going to end how I want it to?

"Fran?"

"Sorry," I sigh. "I just...I don't know if this is a good idea."

"What do you mean? Of course it is," she says.

"Tal, I'm not the same person. I'm so, so, different. Sometimes I barely even recognize myself. I feel like I'm able to be what everyone else sees me as except who I actually am."

"Hey," Tally says, her voice soft. "I recognize you. You're not as different as you think, and the ways you have changed have only made you better."

"It can't just go back to how it was," I say. "I'm not that same eighteen year old."

"He isn't either, Fran," she says. "One google search is enough to tell you that he's definitely not the same guy."

I grip the phone tighter, pushing my brown hair behind my ear as the concrete slab of a bench I'm sat on makes my body ache. "What if he's disappointed?" I ask, voice quiet.

"Disappointed?" Tally asks incredulously. "Fran, you haven't known each other properly for years. No one stays the same person they were when they were a teenager. It's just a coffee, babe."

"I know, I just..."

"If you can tell me with full confidence that there is no chance you will regret not going to see him if you cancel on Tuesday, then don't go. But I think you'd regret it a lot."

I squeeze my eyes shut.

When's the last time I've even had a coffee with someone? As a friend, as a date. It feels like it's been so long. I haven't even been flirted with. Haven't even had my hand held. When's the last time I had a hug.

God I just want a fucking hug.

"Yeah I'd regret it," I say quietly.

"Then there you go," Tally says. "Enjoy yourself. It's just a coffee."

I sigh. "It's just a coffee."

Get a grip, Fran. It's just a damn coffee.

"Everything's okay otherwise?" I ask, wanting to change subject.

"Yeah! Fig's fine. He sleeps a lot."

"Yes, well...cat."

"But I'm fine. I promise I can still function like a normal adult even if I went through a breakup not that long ago and I'm maybe trying to relive when I was twenty because I genuinely don't think I got the most out of it."

"Okay, well I'm not going to help you with that one seeing as the last time we tried to act twenty again, I went and had a drunk make-out session with my ex."

Tally was silent for a full minute. "Hmm, that's...yeah that's fair. Alright I will be a fully grown adult-"

"Wonderful."

"-and I will have dinner ready when you come home."

I blink. "You're not...you're not actually cooking though, right?"

"Oh god, Fran, of course not. I'm trying to feed you into happiness not make you throw up all night. I'll get takeout."

That little bundle of nerves that was jumping up and down dissipated a little and I smiled. "Sounds good, Tal. I should be finished here around uh, five-thirty, maybe six. Just have a couple more errands."

Errands being a literal job interview that you're probably overqualified for yet somehow also under qualified for.

"Okay babe, just text me when you're on your way back," Tally says.

"Got it," I say. "Love you, bye."

I hang up the phone and stare down at my resume that sits clutched tightly within my hands. It's so short and tiny and sad looking. I tried seven different templates before picking this one. Maybe the third template was a better choice. It probably was. Way less in your face. Do I have time to redo it and print it off before the interview?

Fuck, Fran, breathe will you?

I groan, dropping my head onto the paper and closing my eyes right.

"Why are the simplest things so hard for me?" I whisper to myself.

Come on world, give me a break already.

***

Fig runs up to me when I come home, rubbing his head against my black pants and I sigh. Thats going to take a lot to remove all the visible hair from it. I crouch down, picking him up and squishing him against me as I lean back against the front door, basking in the air conditioning and the smell of...

"What is that? It smells good," I call out.

Tally's head pokes out from the living room and she grins. "Ooh! Your timing is amazing, I just got back from the restaurant a few minutes ago. I set everything up on the coffee table. You cool if we eat on the couches?"

I nod. "Yeah just watch the rug. You feed Fig already?"

"Yep, just now," she says.

I pet Fig's head, going into my bedroom and sit on the bed with him for a moment. He happily sits on my thighs, his eyes closed and a purr rumbling out of him. I kiss the top of his head and grab a blanket, putting it over him as he stretches out on the bed.

"I'll be back after dinner," I tell him, getting up and shutting the bedroom door behind me.

"Fig not joining?" Tally asks from the couch.

"He can sometimes jump up on the plates," I tell her. "Especially if they're in takeout containers. One time he put his whole paw in my pad thai because he miscalculated his jump."

"The man can eat, I respect that," Tally says.

She's got a third of her hair pulled up into a bun with the rest falling over her shoulders, her university's sweater and plaid pyjama pants on. Tally sits cross legged, patting the tops of her knees a couple times as she eyes the numerous containers of food scattered across the coffee table.

"What'd you get?" I ask, collapsing onto the couch and feeling the ache in my upper back slowly settle as it cracks with a short movement.

"Italian!" Tally grins, grabbing one of the bowls she brought over. "They had a takeout deal. There's arancini, chicken parm...uh," she grabs the receipt from the table, "and linguine...di mare."

My eyes widen. "You got a seafood one?"

"Of course I did, you like seafood," she says. "And Tyler said it's his favourite."

I blink at her. The hell am I supposed to do with this information?

"Ah!" Tally shouts out and lunges across the table to pick up a smaller container. "They gave us free salad!"

She holds the salad out, like a sacrificial offer, and I huff out a laugh, taking the container from her. "I will say that you outdid yourself with dinner tonight."

"Thank you," she says, taking the lids off all the containers as the fairy lights glitter behind her from where they hang along the ceiling. "It took a lot of effort."

"I can imagine," I grin. "So, millionaire boy likes Italian? Pretty sure one of his parents is Italian."

"Aren't you Italian?" Tally asks as she piles her bowl up with pasta.

I frown at her. "...Yeah, my mom is, why is that..." She grins at me and I glare. "That's not why he likes Italian food, you idiot!"

"I said nothing," my best friend smiles and shovels pasta into her mouth before I can smack her.

"He doesn't even know I'm Italian," I say.

"Your name is literally Francesca, he can't be that stupid."

"Not every Francesca is Italian," I groan. "My last name is literally Howard, it's not really giving anything!"

Tally swallows her mouthful and gives me a smile that I don't like the look of.

"Stop it," I say before she has even done anything.

Her smile widens.

"Italian food reminds him of you."

I throw my hands up. "I will throw you out of this apartment, on your ass."

"I bought dinner so I'm taking it with me," she says.

I narrow my eyes at her, looking over the food which smells amazing and I really don't want to part with it because all I have in my fridge is eggs and an omelette just sounds sad in comparison to a chicken parm. My eyes key in on the three arancini sat in a little cardboard container.

"You can stay if I get the extra arancini," I say, piling food up in my bowl.

Tally thinks it over before nodding. "You drive a hard bargain."

"It's just a ball of rice," I mumble.

"I accept."

"You're an idiot," I sigh but there's a smile on my face as I bite into a shrimp and settle back into the couch, feeling warm, content and for a minute it isn't hard to breathe.

________

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