𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. | conan gray

𝟎𝟏. | cookies

the kitchen is filled with the smell of fresh cookies, and a playlist plays in the background. el and i, both covered in flour, stand side by side, competing to make the perfect cookie shape. el's are of course perfect – i mean, she literally works in a bakery – while mine are more like... i don't know, some kind of abstract art?

el teases me about my weird-shaped cookies. "your cookies look like they've been through a modern art class. i didn't realize we were baking avant-garde pastries tonight."

i roll my eyes, playfully swatting her with a dishtowel. "well, you know, i believe in letting my creativity flow. who needs perfect circles anyway?" i say, defending myself.

el laughs, then her phone lights up. she glances at it and grins. "charlie never shows up empty-handed, god bless that man."

i'm looking over her shoulder, trying to understand what she means. i see a notification of "gossip girls", our group chat with charlie and hailey. to be honest, i have no idea why it's named like that. i didn't even watch the show. but hailey's a big fan, i think.

—

gossip girls
char, el <3, hailey

char
bringing the booze for tonight!!

hailey
charlie ily you fucking legend

char
thank you i love me too <3

—

i roll my eyes at his last message and sigh at the bit about the booze. classic charlie move.

"i'm sorry, last time i checked, we were talking about a cozy movie night, not a party. what happened to that?"

"cozy can involve some liquid warmth, can't it?" el says with a mischievous grin.

i stare hesitantly at my dough.

el nudges me. "you're not gonna escape tonight, amy. we're all getting a bit tipsy. it's gonna be fun."

"i don't really crave for alcohol right now. unlike the rest of you, who seem to think every occasion is an excellent reason to pop open a bottle."

to be honest, i usually only drink when i'm in a fucked-up mood. probably not the best excuse, but it's still better than getting drunk like every weekend, right?

"oh yeah, you're more of the sophisticated type," el teases me. "but come on, a little drink won't hurt."

"easy for you to say. i have to finish an article for the magazine tomorrow, and i can't afford a hangover," i reply, trying to resist her playful persuasion.

i work for a music magazine called "new york tunes". so basically i have interviews with musicians and bands and write reviews of concerts, albums, and music events. it's a pretty cool thing if you ask me – but i also have to work on weekends sometimes, which is not so cool.

el's looking unsatisfied. "you know what day tomorrow is, right? we've got a little milestone coming up, you know," she says.

i pretend to think, even though i know exactly what she's talking about. "milestone, huh? oh, you mean the six-month mark of us being disgustingly cute together?"

el chuckles, relieved that i didn't forget. i mean, how could i forget? "that's the one. got any ideas on how we should celebrate our disgustingly cute love?"

i pretend to ponder, tapping my chin. "hmm, how about a wild night watching terrible rom-coms?"

she laughs. "amy, we do that every other night. we need something special."

"fine, fine," i say, putting on a thoughtful expression. "how about a picnic at central park?"

i smile at my own suggestion. central park is where we first met. it's a sweet idea, and a bit nostalgic too.

el grins, liking the idea. "perfect. so, the little drinking is fine tonight, right?" she says, back at trying to convince me about the alcohol.

i sigh, knowing that she won't stop asking. "fine, but only a little," i agree, already knowing that el's definition of "a little" and mine might differ.

satisfied, she continues shaping her neat cookies.

we continue to joke around, then suddenly a familiar voice starts playing in the background. my hands freeze mid-air, the cookie dough forgotten.

this voice...

el gives me a curious look and raises her eyebrows in confusion. "what's got you looking like you've seen a ghost?"

i'm still frozen. his voice hasn't hit my ears in so long, and now, it's sending shivers down my spine. thoughts of him, ones i pushed away for months, are rushing back.

el's gaze is still on me. "amy, are you alright?"

i shake my head, trying to shake off this weird feeling. "yeah, i'm... it's just... unexpected. the song, i mean. i'm not a huge fan of his music. it's, uh, not my vibe."

el raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying my lame excuse. "really? because you look like you just found a cockroach in the cookie dough. come on, it's just a song. not the end of the world."

little does she know, the voice in this song triggers a flood of memories i had long buried, a past that i had tried so hard to forget.

"plus, i actually like this song. hailey showed it to me last week and though i don't really vibe with her music taste, i must admit that it's bop," she says, turning up the volume.

there it is, his voice filling the room. it's undoing all the walls i built around my heart.

"el, could you... could you skip the song, please?" i say anxiously.

el hums along with the melody, continuing shaping her cookies. "come on amy, you haven't even heard the chorus yet. it's such a vibe, i promise!"

but i can't bear to hear his voice. i really can't. "just skip the damn song, ellie," i snap, my tone sharper than i intended, but also with my voice trembling, "please."

el hesitates for a moment, taken aback by my abrupt tone and irritated that i called her by her actual name. then she finally skips the song. she replaces it with a cheerful tune, but her eyes still hold a mixture of curiosity and concern. i clear my throat in relief.

"you okay?" she asks.

"i am. i just don't like his music," i mutter.

"amy, you can talk to me."

i turn to her, staring, hoping she'll drop it. but el, she can see through me. and sometimes i hate how good she is at it. i tend to hide my feelings – but she makes it difficult for me.

"i'm fine. it's just... bad memories. can we just drop it and finish our cookies?"

her eyes go to my hands, back in action with the dough. she looks worried but nods. "yeah. let's finish our avant-garde pastries." she plants a kiss on my cheek and gets back to work.

i smile, a bit annoyed but also kind of loving her teasing. she has this knack for joking at the wrong time, but it's what makes her the el i love.

her little comfort got me calmer for a second, but as i go back to shaping the dough, i'm still sorting through all these feelings. this song just stirred up a bunch of stuff, and i'm wrestling with things i wanted to be buried. i don't get why his voice hit me so hard after i worked so damn hard not to think about him.

and honestly, i don't want to start thinking about him again.