Chapter 23 Sophia
Sophia
The sound of Henry singing downstairs woke me earlier than I wanted.
He thought his singing voice was a yet another talent, but it was worse than a familiar alarm clock.
At least those were predictable in their ear-piercing torment.
I buried my head under the pillow and groaned.
Another day of service in exchange for a safe place to sleep, only to do it all again the next day.
It wasn't much different from any other job in that regard, but it felt worse.
An off-key high note signaled I wouldn't be getting back to sleep.
Was he trying to wake me up? I moved to get out of the comfortable nest of blankets in my bed, and his singing stopped, turning into muffled words.
“Ah, hello, Emma.” I couldn't make out the rest, but it felt good knowing she was here.
I had only spoken to her once since everything happened, All she knew was that I was out of work and serving henry in exchange for food and a room.
She still didn't know anything about what happened at the club or that I was hiding here, and I wouldn't be telling her, despite every part of me demanding to confess everything.
I followed the sound of her soft footsteps up the stairs, and she let herself into my room. Finding me sitting up in bed, she smiled sympathetically and made her way over to me, her expression a mix of joy and sadness.
"Good morning, sleepyhead, You look almost as terrible as Henry's singing." She teased
I laughed, but the sound was laced with exhaustion. "I'm sure I look worse."
"Oh, Sophia," she said, her voice thick with empathy. "You need to take better care of yourself. You can't keep running yourself into the ground like this."
"I know." I sighed, rubbing at the tiredness etched under my eyes. "But what choice do I have?"
"Just don't settle for living like this." She took my hand.
"I have good news and bad news."
I perked up at that. "What is it?"
Emma hesitated, her grip tightening a bit. "Well, the good news is I got hired at a great company."
"That's amazing!" I said, but Emma's face still held the bad news. I waited for her to continue.
Emma sighed, "The bad news is it's in Washington."
My grip weakened in her hand as her eyes began to water.
"So that means...you’re leaving." I didn't know what else to say.
"It’s about time I moved out of my parents house I guess, and there are no jobs in this town that could ever lead to anything.
My parents offered to help with rent and other things until I’m on my feet there.
" She almost laughed when she continued.
"They’re probably just glad Im finally moving out. "
I realized my eyes were watering too as she rubbed hers.
I blinked, trying to clear away the tears welling up. "Emma, that's...that's great." My voice quieted at the end, but I managed a weak smile. "Really, it is."
She sniffed and let out a shaky laugh. "I know. I just... Im so sad."
I nodded slowly. "Yeah me too."
We sat there for a moment in silence, hands still clasped together as we both processed her news.
The soft morning light seeped through the thin curtains, bathing us in its warm glow and making Emma's blond hair shine.
Behind her sadness, I could see how happy she was at the same time. I was happy for her too.
"Promise me something." she said suddenly, her voice low but firm as she turned to look me in the eyes.
"Anything.”
"Promise me that you won't stay stuck here forever," she stated. "That you'll find your way out of this godforsaken town and do something meaningful with your life."
"Do something meaningful?" I repeated incredulously. "Emma, all I've ever done is scramble to survive."
Her grip tightened on my hand. "And that's exactly what you need to stop doing," she said with conviction. "You're an amazing artist, Sophia. You're meant for more than just survival."
"I'd love to believe that," I sighed, looking away from her. "But dreams won't pay the bills."
She shook her head, her golden hair dancing around her face. "Believe it or not, Sophia, some dreams do. I believe in you. I know you can accomplish anything you set your mind to."
Before I could reply, she let go of my hand and reached into her bag, pulling out a folded piece of paper. Without a word, she thrust it into my hands.
"What's this?" I asked curiously, unfolding the document to reveal a beautifully printed brochure. My eyes scanned over the fancy lettering and glossy images—a prestigious art school offering scholarships for deserving students.
"Emma…" I started but found myself at a loss for words. "This… seems amazing, but..."
I paused, staring at the brochure.
“This school is in New York?”
"So what?" she said. "You're talented enough to get in. All you need to do is apply. They are offering free housing for the first six months. You could get a job there and save up without having to pay rent."
"What if they reject me?" The words were out before I could stop them.
"We won't know until you try," she replied gently, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder before wiping the wetness from her cheek. “But I know they will accept you.”
There was an earnestness in her eyes that made me want to believe her.
To believe that life could offer more than endless toil and unrewarded effort.
That it was possible for me to live in alignment with what I loved to do.
But hope leads to disappointment, and plans often times are just a list of things that never happen.
"I don't know, Emma," I said after a moment's silence.
"Promise me you will apply." she demanded.
"I..." I paused, staring down at the art school's brochure. It was a tempting image. I glanced back up at Emma. She was waiting, her expression full of stubborn hope.
"Alright," I sighed, my voice barely more than a whisper. "I'll apply."
Emma's face lit up like she had just won an argument, which in a way, she had. "Good." She got up from my bed and stretched.
"As excited as I am to listen to Henry's off-tune serenading," Emma teased with a chuckle as she headed toward the door, "I don't think my ears can handle any more abuse this morning."
"Try living with him," I retorted playfully, throwing a pillow at her. “When do you leave?"
"Right now." she said solemnly, her smile fading.
"Now?" I echoed, my voice barely audible. Emma turned to face me, her eyes softened with regret, an expression id rarely ever seen from her.
"I know, it's... it's too soon. I wanted to tell you as soon as I found out the other day, but I just couldn’t.
" She admitted, wringing her hands nervously.
"They want me to start right away... they have their quarterly reports coming up and.
.." She trailed off when she saw the look on my face.
The words were hollow in my ears, echoing emptily around the room.
"I understand." I forced the words out through a tight throat, trying to put on a brave face for her. This wasn't supposed to happen. We were supposed to stick together, navigate through life side by side.
"I'm going to miss you," she finally said, her blue eyes glistening.
"Yeah," I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Me too."
I stood up and our arms wrapped around each other. Our tight hug sharing all the feelings and words that we didn’t have time to express.
"But..." she continued, her voice barely more than a whisper, "Before I go, there's something else I want to give you." She reached into her bag once again, pulling out a small box.
My stomach tightened as she put it in my hands.
She bit down on her lower lip. "Open it," she encouraged.
I tore open the cardboard box, revealing a velvet case. I opened the case and felt my eyes widen. It was the exact set of paintbrushes I had spent so much time saving for, only to lose them at the beach in the waves.
"Emma…" My voice broke on her name.
“It took forever to find the exact ones you bought, You're going to need them."
"Thank you, this means so much to me, but I don't have anything for you."
"Sure you do," she said, her eyes glistening.
"You have your promise. Apply to the art school, Sophia. Do it for you, and do it for me."
I swallowed hard at her words and nodded.
She flashed me a teary-eyed smile before walking toward the door, she paused to look back at me.
"Take care of yourself, Sophia." With those parting words, I watched as she stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind her for the last time.
I was alone in my room again, but for the first time, I truly felt alone.
First Gabriel, now Emma. I collapsed into my bed and just laid there for what felt like hours.
No more Emma to pull me out of my dark moods or distract me from my life with her wild stories and infectious laughter.
No one to share late-night gossip or early morning coffee with.
My best friend was gone. My room felt suddenly too empty, too quiet.
The silence was suffocating, pressing down on me like a heavy blanket.
I found myself staring at the painting stuck to the wall, then dropped the pamphlet I had unconsciously crumpled in my hand.
"You're coming off that fucking wall." I gritted my teeth and grabbed the frame, pulling with everything I had. The frame creaked, drywall splintered, chips of paint fell onto my bare feet, and with a final tug and a scream, I fell onto the ground, with the ruined painting in my hands.