Smoked Success

8.

Why the fuck is Smith calling me for god's sake? Should I answer this or not? But, I don't get it, I talked with his father once and now he's calling me? It's not like I'm his father's babysitter now. I breathe as deep as possible and swipe the "swipe to answer" bar. 

"Jessica! Thank god you've answered." Smith says, seeming hurried. 

"What's up Smith?" I ask, wanting this to be as fast as possible. 

I don't want to keep this conversation going because Smith isn't my current favorite person. 

"My father, John, is at the hospital and he has asked if you can go talk to him for a while." Smith answers, sighing. 

"Which hospital is he at?" I question, in total ennui.

"I'll text you the address." He declares. "Thank you, really."

"You're welcome." I say, hanging up.

Here I am, walking through hospital doors, the last place I'd want to be after London hearing my mom ranting about how she'd told me. Smith has told me he's in room 201, but all I see is numbers starting with fours. I head to the lift and wait with others who are seriously injured, making me feel horrible for them. I glance at my tattoos, I have a cross tattoo on my wrist, more precisely on the bone, I had it done five years ago, and I still love it. Two years ago, I'd done one on my hipbone, a butterfly, hoping to stop self harm. 

The lift finally arrives, I get in and wait for all the other patients to get in. I think I'll get a new tattoo soon, I feel horribly like it. I think I'm the type of person that'll be completely tattooed in a few years. Tattoos help you express your feelings and thoughts, making them permanent forever. 

I'd finally arrived to the floor I was supposed to be in, which cuts off my thoughts. I finally see rooms starting with twos, and I go to the beginning of the hall, seeing room 201. John's in it, completely pale, even paler than when I've met him. What has happened to him? I can see Smith in the room, but of course, doing whatever he 'has' to do on his laptop. I knock twice and can see him looking at me instead of his blue screen, and getting up to open the door. 

I can open the door, does he know that? 

"Thank you so much again, I gotta go." He says as quick as possible and storms off. 

What on earth, not even a goodbye to your father? He disrespects his father so much I can't. Without the presence of his father, he wouldn't be even existing and wearing those expensive suits. He should be grateful for god's sake. 

"Good afternoon John." I give him an apologetic smile, feeling bad for him, he doesn't deserve a son like that. 

"Sorry, he's always busy," He starts, putting a frame back on the nightstand next to him, "You know, to get a good salary and all, you must work." 

Is he being oblivious on purpose or what? I don't get it. If it were mom, she'd roast everyone because I'm not around enough. I miss her so much though. 

"About work, I've found a job." I announce, hoping he doesn't acknowledge what's inside my head. 

"That's lovely, which university?" He smiles at me.

"University of California in Los Angeles." I tell him, regretting each and every word.

Each time I mention it, my heart gets stabbed. Christian isn't leaving my mind today, ugh. 

"It is a good university, but Los Angeles?" I can see he's trying to allude to Christian as smooth as he can. 

"Yes Los Angeles, it's all I could find." I state, being as honest as I can.