seventy six.

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an

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an. i can already sense the upset people are about to have with me LMAO enjoy

———

Seven weeks later, June 2018

"I'm freaking out, Em."

"Just say no then!"

"I can't say no!" I'm pacing back and forth in the living room of my Brooklyn apartment, phone gripped tightly while pressed against my ear. "The last thing I expected out of this relationship was going on a date to my ex-boyfriend's concert at Madison Square Garden." I laugh, but it's one of those exhausted laughs because I don't know what else to do.

To summarise, my boyfriend and I have been long distance for the past month and a couple weeks. He's finally back in the states the same week I'm back in New York. And what does he decide we should do? Go to Harry Styles' fucking show at the Garden.

"He genuinely seems to want to go, like, he's actually a fan. Obviously I knew this but it's different experiencing it first hand." I sigh and then add, "Plus, I already called Harry so he's already expecting us there after getting the two tickets and passes he pulled for us."

"I'm still not used to you two being on speaking terms but I guess you can't fuck it up now and not go to the show after all of his effort." Emma says and I honestly have the urge to roll my eyes.

"Fucking up my civilisation with Harry is the least of my concerns right now. Em, I can barely listen to those songs without reopening old wounds. How am I supposed to sit there for two hours and not react?"

"You're right, you're totally fucked tonight."

I groan. "Thanks," I say and finally stop pacing, choosing instead to take a seat on the couch and hold my head in my free hand. "Jacques is totally going to think I'm a nut when I inevitably break down tonight."

"Hey," Emma's voice is soft and with my eyes now shut, it sort of feels like she's right next to me. "Jacques won't think you're a nut if you break down tonight. Plus, you do so much other shit already on a daily basis that he probably already thinks you're a nut."

I open my eyes. "Ha, you're funny. Name one." I state dryly.

"I can date this all the way back to when I first met you: oreos and peanut butter."

Now I scoff and my posture goes straight in a defensive manner. "I'll actually have you know I put him onto that and he enjoyed it, thank you very much."

"Ew, gross. It's like you were made for each other."

"Oh, shut up."

Emma laughs and we fall into a silence for a moment. I miss her a lot, I realise. I mean, obviously I've been missing her for the past four months that she's been back in Paris. But I just really wish she were here now so we could sit in silence together rather than on the phone and with over three thousand miles separating us.

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