"These are fucking good. I missed them." I commented, taking another mouthful. The statement was true, but the dumplings hadn't been the only thing I'd missed. I'd missed spending time with him. Feeling his presence, and being grateful for the little moments we'd had together.
"I know they are; I prefer yours, though." George replied, and I rolled my eyes.
"No way. No one beats yours - stop buttering me up."
He laughed at my comment, taking the time to put an entire one into his mouth, chewing with his cheeks puffed out. I couldn't help but grin at him. In this moment, I felt truly happy. I knew what it was to have a good friend. I wasn't sure how long this would last, as he was onto bigger things now, but I was basking in the sudden safety I had with him.
"Where abouts are you living now?" I asked. He'd gotten here relatively quickly, but he could have driven.
"About a half hour walk, if that. I caught the bus up." He swallowed, looking down to the empty white plate, then back to me. "Why, are you offering me a lift home?" He questioned playfully.
"I suppose, I do have practice in an hour." I sighed, taking his, and my own plate to the sink, putting them beside to be washed later.
"I'm not good at directions." George said, standing up from the stool he'd been perched on.
"I've got Google maps, I'm sure it will be fine." I grabbed my keys off the hook beside the door, leading the way down to the car park.
We got into the car, and I pulled out of the car park, turning down the road. It had saddened me he was leaving so soon, but what could I do? It's not like he could have stayed over - I don't think that would have been right for either of us right now. Despite the lack of mental health the two of us experienced, being in his presence was better than being with any other person I'd known. George reached out, pressing the button for the aux. Laughing, I glanced over to see what he'd been doing - he'd plugged his phone in.
"You know, the journey is like ten minutes? Hardly worth putting on a song." I commented. He didn't reply, simply tapping on his phone, scrolling through the music gallery before finally picking a song.
Through the speakers, I could make out a few notes, before realising it had been the beginning to Winaloto by Tommy Cash. I began laughing, remembering how he'd found an odd inspiration from him.
Stopping at a red light, I turned to smile at him. He presented me with jazz hands, and the two of us broke out in small, sort of giggly laughter.
"Is this the one where he has all the women's asses?" I question.
"Yeah, I was gonna do this with a song I wrote. I was thinking about getting escorts to like twerk on my face or some shit."
I rolled my eyes, knowing that sounded slightly narcissistic in a way, but it was him. He'd always had to top the charts with everything he'd done, whether it had been YouTube, or drawing. Anything at all, he focused and learned until he was ready to show - and by that point it was perfection.
'You have reached your destination.'
"You'll have to send some beats over." I said, pulling over to a side road. It had been next to an expensive looking apartment building, and I wondered just how much money he had.
"That would be cringey, but if you keep pestering me to, I might." We shared eye contact, sat back in our seats.
"This is me, I guess." He spoke out awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "Thanks again, it means a lot." He climbed out the door, bending down to look at me once more, before slamming it shut. I watched out the passenger window as he walked off, through the entry way. I wondered what his apartment was like, whether the inside looked as nice as the lobby did.
-
I arrived at the cathedral, anxiously adjusting my leggings, pulling them above my hip. It had been beautiful. I didn't realise a building of this nature could have even been built in Brooklyn, with stained glass windows of Christ, and other biblical images. There was an old manner to it, so I'd presumed it had been build long before I was born. Wondering up to the concreted steps, I was able to come face to face with the carved oak entrance, putting a hand on the indents. Toying with the strap for my bag, I walk through, to be met with a few others in similar attire. They turned to look over me, shooting unrecognised glances. One of which had stood out, she was darker skinned with Afro-like hair, flowing down her back with hints of blonde under curls. Her green eyes stood out, and I could see she'd had eyelash extensions.
"Isobelle, right?" One of the three speaks up, and I nod. I look over her, she is awfully thin. Comparing myself, I realise all three people before me were significantly smaller in frame than me. I'd not put a lot of thought into my overall appearance, sure I wasn't a huge fan of myself, but I'd not put enough thought into disliking my weight. Next to these girls, I suddenly felt it creep over me.
My hips were significantly wider, thighs larger, and due to my short height, I felt that I was appearing stocky. It wasn't really the look I was going for.
