bang, bang [ziam]

losing you {end}

tracklist:

(no, no) i'm losing you - aretha franklin

the look of love - dusty springfield

we're still friends - donny hathaway

z.m.

who'd have known?

it seemed danielle and i were frequently talking to each other on the phone. i know, i couldn't quite believe it either. but i had guessed that misery loved company and two lonely people were a great match. we seemed to spend a lot of time chattering away to each other, i kept my distance to a certain extent, yet... somehow, i think we became friends? i wasn't sure what it was. after i dropped her home, a couple days later she called me again. i could of easily not answered, but apart of me had worried for her. i couldn't wrap my head around it, as i sat in some pub having beers with louis and colleagues, i got up and left -- accepting the call.

"oh, hey. i-i wasn't sure you would pick up. i'm sorry, i shouldn't call you -- it's not appropriate under our circumstances but--" she rambled and i couldn't understand how this girl, who was described as some malicious, calculated, high-school prima donna could sound so vulnerable to me -- a complete stranger.

"don't apologize. are you alright?" i ask rigidly, the concern in my voice quiet.

"i just... i've been working a lot as a waitress to save up some money, since i don't have much to do now that school isn't an o-option. and... and i was just wondering if you'd, um... be interested in having lunch with me one day -- my pay. i just feel like i had to repay you for helping me..." she stumbled over her words and i was silent, chewing on my gums. i wasn't sure if any of this was okay, but when has anything in my life been any different? it took me awhile to reply and i could feel her embarrassment radiating from the phone. "i-i'm sorry, this is so stupid of me. h-have a good day."

i speak up before she hangs up, "hold on... i'll have lunch with you under one condition."

"w-what condition?"

"that you shut up and i pay."

she laughed and we spoke on the phone for a while as i stood outside on the sidewalk. i asked how she was going and our conversation was friendly. after ten minutes of chatter, i had to go and departed with,

"you can call me whenever you need help, danielle. i know our situation is fucking strange, but i am here for you. i'm not saying it to be some insincere bastard, i really mean it."

so here i was, two weeks later, a phone pressed against my ear balancing on my shoulder in some grocery store. i was buying food, which i rarely did, delivery was my prime, but -- it was for someone, rather than myself. a fucking shocker, really, danielle had become a priority of mine. i supported her quite often with food and car rides to her appointments and she was beyond grateful for some help. it was the least i could do really. i mean, a year ago, i would of laughed in your face if you told me that i would go grocery shopping for a pregnant, teenager who had slept with my boyfriend -- but times have changed. one thing i couldn't accept was being called generous, because it wasn't an act of generosity - it just seemed like the right thing to do.

also, it seemed to settle my panic i had for liam and his where-about's constantly. it felt like i was helping in the only way i could.

the only reason i hadn't ran to the police and paid them all a hefty amount of money to find him was that i knew he was alive -- but that was said with a grain of salt. everyday there was a new picture of him in the newspaper, a new litter of tattoos across his half-starved body and a story about his partying. he was regarded as a reckless wild-child and the press just ate him up whole, even if he seemed completely unaware. the last article i had read was that he going to be starring in another film due to being broke.