Spinning

Chapter 24: of ants, birds and butterflies

**Author's note:**

Hi my divine readers. I usually don't write notes at the beginnings of my chapters, but today I was feeling distant from you all. How are you? What's life doing for you? I want to connect with y'all who, like me, find escape in EV fanfic. Comment here, shoot me a DM on Instagram (eddie_better_vedder), or remain a passive reader. I know I like to maintain my anonymity sometimes. But regardless, I'm thinking of all of you out there (even though I'm digging a hole of depression for myself by stalking my boyfriends beautiful blonde ex, see below).

I've been in an especially bizarre mood this week. Partly masochistic (think, looking up my boyfriend's beautiful ex-girlfriends on Instagram), partly sadly romantic (think, if Lana del Ray directed a romance movie), and I think it reflects in this chapter. Have you ever felt like Jordan did today?

Stay healthy my friends. Love to all of you. Enjoy.

************

A suspicious amount of bed space pulls me from my dreams. I reach out and confirm that Eddie's side of the bed is empty. This is not uncommon; Eddie will be on the deck writing in his journal or staring out of the kitchen window, deep in thought when I venture out of my bedroom. But a thorough search of the apartment – and my front stoop – reveals his absence. Where did he go?

            An hour passes, and then another, and Eddie does not return. My phone sits next to me, inactive and silent. I waste the day on Google, trying not to think of Eddie's bizarre departure... his second bizarre departure.

My Internet searches start innocently enough, watching Pink Floyd play in Pompeii or watching my favorite ghost hunting show. But, as with most of my Internet activities, it takes a dark turn as reality dissolves around me and my computer becomes a vortex, consuming all space and time. I start searching for Eddie, pictures of Eddie, interviews with Eddie, fan fiction about Eddie, and I'm soon swathed in an obsession with his Internet presence.

            I find the picture the gumball girl took at the Halloween party, along with five hundred comments dredging up pro-choice or pro-life debates. I find entire threads dedicated to rumors about Eddie, and I read each and every one. Some are light and playful – like the rumor that Eddie is a vegetarian because he has a pig sleeping in his apartment. He certainly has a pig sleeping with him... anyways, I digress – but some are dark and scathing.

One particular rumor discusses a fling Eddie might be having with a beautiful French photographer, Louise. Several people claim to have seen them together in Paris, New York, Miami, all places Eddie has been to, and with the correct dates as well.  I stalk her Internet presence. She is tall, skinny, brunette – as Susan could've predicted – with thick hair and bangs and a very chic aesthetic. She is the complete antithesis of me. Was Eddie bored? 

My search concludes with a sad confirmation that she was also in Paris, New York, Miami, all overlapping with Eddie's trips. There are several blurry pictures as well, but none are conclusive.

I'm already in a dark place by the time the sunlight starts to fade from the window. Eddie has a show tonight, but I'm not sure I have the proper mental fitness to go. Regardless of whether this Louise rumor is true, what if there are other unknown Louise's? Of the millions of women on this planet, statistics are painfully against the fact that I'm the one who belongs with Eddie.

And I still haven't heard from Eddie. What about my birthday gift? What about the magical evening from last night? Should I boycott his show in protest? Confront him about Louise?  

            I eventually decide to go. I appease my conscience by wearing a leather mini skirt and a crop top, and loading up on extra eye makeup. If this is the end, I might as well go out with flare and greedy desire. After double-checking my appearance in the mirror, I take a double shot of vodka and head out.