V2-Matthew

How pathetic can I be? I slapped my forehead. I step out of the elevator, heading straight for the parking garage. Did I honestly think I had a chance for the job? I shake my head furiously as I scoff. Ripping my car door open, I flop into the seat.

“God, I’m such an idiot!” I bang my head in light repeated hits on the steering wheel.

An idiot is not even the right word. Maybe it’s better to say I’m just a natural born loser. 

Ring! Ring! Ring!” The ringtone of my phone blares into my ears. “Ring! Ring!” With a groan, I reach into my trouser pocket and fish the thing out. 

With my head still pressed against the steering wheel, I answer the phone with a muffled voice. “Hello?” Exhaustion bleeds through my voice while I lodge the phone against my ear.  

“Matthew Bethlehem Scranton?” A familiar demanding high pitched voice invades my ear. 

My sigh comes naturally as I register the phone. Greaaat.

“It’s been a month since you’ve last called me!” The pitch of voice grew urgent and as a keen blade. 

By reflex, I tug the phone a little bit away from my ear, the feedback deafeningly loud. “Has it been that long, Mom?” 

“Yes, it has been.” She confirms in a matter-of-fact tone. 

“Well?” I rub my eyes. “Why didn’t you call me sooner?” 

“Matthew for god’s sake, you’re not funny.” She deadpans. 

I don’t think I was joking, but I’m not going to tell her that. 

“So? How are you today, Ma?” I wearily ask. 

“Don’t try to change the subject, Matthew. I’m calling to check on you. How are you settling in with the new job and apartment?” 

“Things are going swell.” I rub my temples, a headche beginning to form. 

There’s a moment of silence on the line as she processes the brevity of my words. She’ll come to either one of two conclusions. The first I already know. 

“Matthew.” She sighs. “I can’t believe you left your job and the house, just for this ‘new opportunity’ in a city that happens to be 4 hours away. You know your father is so worried about you? More importantly, your brother!” 

There it is. 

I shut my eyes as she continues speaking. 

“Easton was so hurt when you decided to leave, and after everything he did for you? He bought the apartment for you, and even the car. Could you imagine how much it hurt him when you gave it all away and just up and left? Especially when the wedding is right around the corner!” 

The frowns burn into my face. Frustration crawls at the border of my mind. “We’re only a few minutes into our conversation, Mom. Do you have to start with right now?” 

“It’s just, Matthew, I can’t believe you did this. I’m really disappointed in you right now. Your brother needs you, and you know he does. Why did you think now was the perfect time to leave?” 

“I don’t know.” There’s a bitter, sour taste searing my tongue. 

“You know, how much we’re all worried about you, right now?” 

“Yeah, well, I’m worried about myself as well,” I say snarkily. 

“Matthew.” I can almost hear the frown in her voice. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to go off you like that. I escalated way too quickly there, and I really am sorry. It’s just, there’s so much we haven’t even talked about since you left, and it feels like you’re avoiding the rest of the family. When I call you never answer and don’t reach out to any of us.” 

“I’m sorry.” I suck my teeth, guilt pinching my skin. “I’m not doing it on purpose. I’m just busy.” 

“I know. I know.” Her voice is soft. “I understand.” 

“And speaking of busy, I really have to get going.” My mouth is completely dry and arid. 

“Alright. Look, when you get the chance, please speak to Easton. You, brother, has been trying to reach your for days. He really wanted to speak to you.” 

“Uh-huh.” I distractedly respond. 

“You’ll call him, right?” 

“….” I pause to swallow stale dry air. I’m trying to find it in me to say yes. I’m trying to find it for me to understand what he’s been through in these last few months. I’m trying to find it in me to rise above the feeling of blood boiling in my skin. 

But I can’t. 

So I say nothing. 

“Matthew?” 

“I’ve got to go, Mom.” I quickly hang up the phone and gradually lift my head from the steering wheel. 

For a second, I’ve got that feeling again. That feeling like being trapped in a cold blanket of chilly, freezing waters. A feeling that I’m sinking underneath some nonexistent waves. A feeling that I can’t breathe. A feeling that I’m drowning. 

I fucking hate this. 

Sighing, I jam the key into the ignition. The car doesn’t make a sound. Not even a peep of life comes when I try again. The engine is dead.

Right, the engine is dead.

I already know this car is ancient, so I shouldn’t be shocked. I shouldn’t.

I step out of my car, shutting the door, which the impact on the door hinges is enough to snap it clean off. With a loud crack, that’s all it takes for my car door to fall off.

“Ha.” I wryly laugh at the absurdity of it;My car door fell off.

“Ha-ha..” I laugh again, staring blank eyed at the car door. Did my car door really…just fall off?

I step back, a wince growing inside my throat.

Don’t get frustrated, angry, or mad. Just…take a deep breath.

“Okay.” I shrug, “okay.” I’ll just walk home and get it towed later. That’s right, I’ll pay the expensive fee to get it towed, and the expensive fee to go back to my mechanic and get it fixed. While I’m there, they’ll probably fix it, and suddenly also find a reason why the engine needs to be changed, and suddenly the price of towing will include the price of even more expensive repairs. Oh, but I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I? 

Right.

I grip my fists. 

Let’s just…walk home. Because it doesn’t look weird for an adult man in his only suit to be walking miles towards home. Not at fucking all. 

I zip through the crowded streets, my outgrown trousers making each stride an uncomfortable action.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Escaping from the crowds of smells of sweat, sounds of overlapping voices, and miles of unfamiliar faces, I pushed on further, passing corporate buildings, dying out to smaller residential blocks.

Fuc—Don’t. Curse.

Grandad West always said my “potty mouth” would eventually and quite easily earn me some bad luck. Lately these days, I’m strongly beginning to believe him. 

No. No, no, what am I saying these days? That’s not at all true. Grandad West was just as old as he was senile. This was the same man who said he had stolen the wing from a beautiful fucking fairy. 

I dig my fingers into the palm of my fists.

No. I can’t let the phone call from Mom and my car down piss me off like this. I’ve got to stay calm. 

That’s right. I’m calm and I’m optimistic. I’m not going to spend my entire day thinking about Easton, my family, and my crappy bad luck I have. I didn’t move 20 hours away from them to still be affected by them. 

That’s why I need to focus on what’s next. Finding a job. Paying my rent. And not getting fucking evicted. 

I need a steady source of income or it’s hello shelter. So no matter how I frame it or muse on it, I need a damn job. While I’m at it maybe I can learn how to not be the world’s best loser?

My hands slip into my pockets as I hastily fish for a cigarette.

Well, now that I think about it, even if I wasn’t so pathetic, I’ll always be under his shadow. I get jobs because of him. I lose jobs because of him. I have to leave jobs because of him. I had to move because of him. I lost everything because of him. In fact, maybe it’s not a stretch to say my entire livelihood and life depends on him!

Stop. Shut up, Matthew. This is pathetic. I need to quiet my thoughts right now. 

Immediately, I try to shut my writing and rambling thoughts. Just as I managed to ease the storm of thoughts in my head, my fingers grazed my cigarette box. Lighting it, I inhale sharply, already feeling a short sense of ease.

I need to stop. I rub the center of my forehead with my thumb as I sigh. I can’t spend all day thinking of a cloud overcast. Puffing in exasperation, I stand patiently waiting at a crosswalk. I watch as the sky shifts; the sun falling behind the plump dark sooty clouds, turning most of the glass buildings into colors of dimmed greys. 

My eyes dance around empty streets, spotting patches of moving bodies slipping inside and out of corner stores. Cars seemed to drag, waiting on bright red lights to transform to green. I inhale once more, savoring the calming taste of nicotine seeping into my mouth. In the still of waiting at the crosswalk, I smell a grainy hint of possible rain and hear the distant calls of birds. The city is really dead today. Or maybe it’s always been dead and dreary. Now that I think about it, I’ve never remembered a day in my life when life hasn’t looked stark and harsh. Smoke puffs swim around me, and I can only squint at the street. Potholes and polluted uneven streets.

I’ve always thought it was strange. I escaped to live in a big city like this, a city with all the rowdy bustle and life and people, and yet nothing can make me forget I’m standing here alone. There’s nothing I can even do to run, because in the crowd and commotion I can’t escape, and I can’t disappear. 

Nothing. 

“Excuse me sir, do you mind?” A high-pitched female’s voice took my focus, knocking me out of my flow of thoughts. On my left, a slim black-haired woman cradling a small child peered at me. Her head slightly nudges towards the burning cigarette between my lips.

“The smell is really strong.” She adjusts her grip on the child sprawled over her.

“Oh.” I nod slowly. “Sure—?”

My eyes scan her, and for a second, I see a familiar face; long silky black hair meticulously pinned up, inky jet-black eyes that glisten like a night sky, the smile lines of a mischievous grin, and a face that glowed like the sun. 

My mouth hangs open, my cigarette falling from my gaping mouth and crashing into the ground. “A-Angelica?” I mumble out the words as I peer at the woman. 

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