Eden’s Old Phone
Eden : Hey. I just got this phone back from the police.
Eden : I can’t talk to my sisters about this part, about the Isaiah part. No one knows. It will have to be you. Are you still here?
F : Always.
Eden : Ok, cool. Don’t expect a prize.
F : I kind of did.
Eden : Well, it’s not happening. Can I talk to you?
F : Talk to me.
Eden : My heart kind of stops whenever I see a post about him. I catch a few random things, some vague words, and that’s how I know they are talking about him. Mainly about: his dad, his brother, his eyes, his IQ, his body, his black clothes, his silver necklaces. His biceps. His voice. His eyes.
F : His biceps, you say ?
Eden : I’m sure he will hate it that they are talking about him and his dad. Hates it. As for his body… I don’t recognize it. It’s obvious he has worked his ass off in the gym to get ripped like this.
F : Nice.
Eden : No, not nice. He’s under so much pressure…
F : What about the songs?
Eden : What?
F : The songs. Are they any good?
F : Yeah, they’re good. Somehow his songs have gone from sounding like pop hits to genius compositions. His words are so profound they are poetry. No one can listen to these songs and remain unaffected. And that’s not my words, it’s an article on Times.
F : Nice.
Eden : Yeah, nice. What do I do?
F : Do you want to go to more of his shows?
Eden : I want to go to all of them.
F : So, go.
Eden : It will break me.
F : So, let it break you. So far, only good has come out of you breaking.
Eden : How can you SAY THAT
F : I’m not saying that. You are saying that. To yourself. It’s you typing on both sides of these conversations, remember? Or have you completely lost your mind finally?
Eden : STOP I T
F : By saying that you can handle breaking, you are not saying that it’s not painful. You are saying that it’s worth it.
Eden : It is painful. And it’s also worth it.
F : Atta girl.
Eden : Ugh.
…
Eden : Omg, you’ll never guess what happened. I’m going to see him in two months’ time. I AM FINALLY GOING TO SEE HIM face to face. I can’t breathe.
F : Then breathe.
Eden : Aren’t you excited for me?
F : No. This dude ruined you. Straight up destroyed you.
Eden : That was… different.
F : Well, don’t hope for too much.
Eden : I can’t help it. I am so full of hope, I might burst.
F : Don’t go. Don’t go to his New Year’s Eve concert. And definitely don’t go to work for him.
Eden : I can’t help myself. I just can’t.
F : I don’t know what to say to you.
Eden : Wish me luck.
F : Good luck.
Eden : I think it’s time to say goodbye. Thank you for being here all these years .
F : I am literally you.
Eden : You are the only part of me that no one was ever able to cage. You are the only part of me that survived. The writing part.
F : You are the part of you that survived. All of you. All of your parts.
Eden : We’ll just see if I survive this one.
F : Always such a drama queen. What do you mean ‘this one’.
Eden : This is going to be the big one—the big test. Going to a concert, with crowds. Meeting him. Confronting my fears, my shame, my past.
F : Don’t forget to keep writing. Always keep writing. Don’t ever stop.
Eden : I won’t.
F : Good.
Eden : Goodbye, F. Next time I text someone, it will be a real person.
F : Might as well be one of your sisters. Who would have thought that you’d have two of them… It almost sounds like too many. Going from no sisters to two all of a sudden. I hope they don’t drive you crazy.
Eden : I hope they do.
F : Maybe you’ll drive them crazy.
Eden : Shut up.
F : Good night, Eden.
Eden : Goodbye, F .
Eden : And FYI, I am not deleting this chat. I haven’t deleted any of ‘our’ chats since… well, since I came to New York, let’s put it that way. I’ll just keep them forever on this stupid old phone, and look at them, and remember how I survived. And hope.
F : To paraphrase someone extremely famous right now, Saint Hope is a bitch.
…
Eden : Can I tell you a secret?
F : I thought we said goodbye and crap.
Eden : Oh, we can say things like ‘crap’ now, huh?
F : What is the secret?
Eden : I know this is a stupid idea, and there is no way he is going to remember me or want anything to do with me now. I’m the lost girl and he is a superstar on his way to becoming a global phenomenon. I don’t know what I’m going to that concert for—I don’t know what I’m looking for. Maybe I’m looking for him to break my heart even worse than he did four years ago.
F : WHAT is the secret already, Eden?
Eden : Oh, it’s nothing special.
Eden : I still miss him.