didn't think i'd be texting this number any time soon...
I look over at my phone around three AM to see this message. Since I got home from Dan's house I've been scrolling through Tumblr and replying to comments and fan emails. It's been a relatively calm evening, nothing too exciting happening. Until this text, anyways.
Gale. I have that feeling you get when you say something stupid, like I want to fake my death, change my name and move to an obscure South American country. But I know I should answer nicely. Not romantically or friendly, just nicely. Politely.
Hi. Should I say Gale? Should I tell him that it's three AM here and that he should really check the time change before randomly texting someone? In the end I resort to telling a little white lie, Who is this? Awkward, yes, but okay. Stalling. Maybe he can just assume my contacts got deleted. Plus, it's just a little pathetic to still have your ex's number in your phone after four years.
sorry, oops. it's Gale.
Damnit. I pinch my arm. Can you feel pain in nightmares? If so, I just did.
I try to gain control of myself. It's three AM and my mental state probably isn't the best, and one word wrong could probably ruin my life at this point. I have to chose my words wisely.
You do know that it's three AM here, right? A safe reply. No real feeling coming from it, I'm just stating the facts.
I figured that you'd be awake if you hadnt changed much. Of course. I've been pulling all-nighters since Year 5.
How to reply to that, I don't know.
oh. Yeah, another way too safe reply. So I follow it with So what's up? It's pretty obvious that he's wanting something from me. You don't just text someone out of the blue after four years of radio silence.
He takes a while to reply which makes me really, really nervous. Does that mean there's some kind of news? I don't like it.
So this is so rude of me, honestly, but I'm moving back to the UK and I need a place to stay just while I find a new flat. You're the only person I know in London, so I was wondering if I could stay with you, just for a few days?
It takes me a minute to really comprehend what he just said. He wants to stay with me? I try to not hyperventilate and get back to trying to reply. This just took a terrifying turn. What should I say? Yes, or no? If I say yes and he does stay, what if he makes a move on me? What if he ends up staying for a year and I end up having to pay for food and everything else? But then again, I can't really say no. I'm one of those people who are too nice for their own good and can't say no to anyone, no matter who it is. Not easily, anyway.
In the end I start weighing the options. For one thing, I could become friends with Gale again and actually have more than one close friend for once. On the flip side, things could get really awkward. I guess they already are, though, meaning I really have nothing to lose. This might just be the hours and hours without sleep talking, but just mutter, "fuck it," and text back.
I guess you can stay. When exactly will you be coming?
- - -
After ironing out the details it's nearly four in the morning. Gale will be staying at my house, starting next Sunday and ending no less than two days later.
Now it's the time of the night when you just want to listen to sad indie songs and cry until you go to sleep for a few hours, but at this point my brain is buzzing from nervous energy. I sit on the edge of my bed and stare at myself in the mirror.
I literally haven't changed. In the four years we haven't seen each other, Gale's gotten older. He looks like a real life "punk rock guru" or something, with lots of leather jackets and black skinny jeans and an armful of tattoos. I meanwhile, still look like I'm seventeen. I have a chronic case of baby face, meaning while I'm a whole twenty one years old I look like I'm still in high school.
So then I start thinking of ways I can change. I'm not getting a piercing, I don't need my face or bellybutton or anywhere else to be sore for the next week and a half, and needles kind of scare me. Tattoos are cool and whatever, but same thing. I don't know what my parents would do if I did something like that. The only other thing I can think of would be to dye my hair.
I've always wanted to dye my hair, but it's never really been a thing I've had the time or reason to do. That and my parents would probably shave my hair off if it wasn't its natural color, but I'm my own person now, right?
Suddenly I'm grabbing my keys and my Oyster card -I'm not known for my good decisions- and head down the street to the drugstore. I look like a hot mess wearing nothing but a sweatshirt and leggings, but I'm sure this store has seen worse. Soon I'm in the hair dye aisle, searching for that perfect red. There's only one box left, but it's pretty good. Supposedly it'll stay in for three months, or sixty washes. I don't know what that's supposed to mean, but I'm sure that's good. I think I'll also need some bleach, since I definitely don't have light hair.
In the end everything costs about fifteen pounds. I check out and run back to the flat, excited and terrified all at the same time. First, bleach. The moment I put it in my hair I felt that "tingly" feeling people always describe. I'm terrified, but by the time I've wrapped everything up in foil I'm mostly calm. Mostly. In fifteen minutes, I take everything off and stick my head in the shower, hoping I don't look too much like a Malfoy.
So I kind of do. Just a little, but soon I'm going to cover it in red anyway. My hair is basically white now, and honestly it's terrifying. Quickly, I grab the red dye stuff and read the instructions, which are basically the same. Slather it all in, wait fifteen minutes, wash it out. Done.
I look in the mirror and smile. It's five AM, I haven't slept in eighteen hours, and I have bright red hair.
// oh god i dont miss writing this at all kill me
i was going to mention MCR bc today is the day they did the thing but then i realized the MCR fandom on wattpad pretty much consists of twelve year old girls screaming about being hardcore and mikey way liking unicorns so honestly please dont comment shit like that i dont need this stress in my life man i almost threw my only electric guitar across the room a few days back because i cant write a song to save my life//
