ephemeral // matty healy

dogwalk

The morning was still and slow. Stella knew it was going a beautiful day even though she woke before the sun rose. She brewed herself a cup of tea and poked her head out the bedroom window, looking out for the sky to change colours. When she reached the end of her mug, the world was starting to wake up. Taxis and cars slowly filled the streets, and she watched a man across the street throw up in an empty alleyway - no doubt, regretting his choices from the night before.

Stella changed into a pair of dark joggers and kept her promise last night of keeping on her concert tee. It was threadbare in some places and faded in others, but she loved this shirt to no end because it was a memory she shared with a friend she loved to no end. Instead of watching Blair sleep, she finished getting ready, slipped on her trainers and walked out the front door.

It was unusually warm, so she didn't think she needed to wear a jacket, but she still felt the frigidity of Mrs. Wiley when she opened the door to give Stella her dog.

"Well, Apricot," Stella clicked the pink collar onto the schnauzer and watch as his tail swung from side to side. "Off we go."

Mrs. Wiley watched from her front room window as Stella walked toward the neighbourhood park. Stella knew that Mrs. Wiley couldn't stand her, but she assumed it was a prejudiced lady's stupid actions and brushed it off. It wasn't like she hadn't dealt with that before.

Apricot was eager to get at the other dogs in the park today, but Stella kept her close while she picked a song to play in her earbuds. Flicking through songs and albums, she settled on a new single and bobbed her head to the upbeat guitar. It was simple, romantic and effective, like Cheap Trick's I Want You To Want Me - to the point.

"I can't remember when we met because she didn't have her top on," she sung the lyrics under her breath while Apricot pulled her along. The two of them walked into the park and then did their usual loop, while Stella slowly made her way through The 1975's second album, full of bubblegum pop and soulful, sarcastic lyrics.

Stella wished she could share her music taste with Blair sometimes, but ever since the argument, she was never able to get through to her the same way. They shared an interest in the odd band or album, but more often than not, they would get stuck in a sonic rut. Stella cursed the man she was listening to and took out her headphones sharply.

Apricot waited for Stella to throw the stick she had been holding onto for a minute, gently pressing his wet nose into Stella's hand.

"You're right... Here!" She grunted and tossed the stick into an empty field. Apricot, now happy as a clam, ran toward the stick and retrieved it. He was now coming toward Stella at full tilt. Before Stella knew it, he had jumped up, using his two front paws to take her down from the hips. Apricot had now dropped the stick on her stomach and was looking down at her inquisitively.

-

Blair had just woken up. She stretched and glanced at the microwave clock. Half-past ten. A loud groan erupted from her slack-jawed sleep face.

"Ugh, fuck," she mumbled as she rolled off the couch. A new crick in her back tightened when she stood up. Stella had made a pot of tea this morning, but it had gotten cold while Blair was asleep, so she decided to bypass breakfast altogether and start unpacking into her new room.

She was digging around in a box labelled "Desk" (to start off small, she justified) when Blair discovered a candle. It was a white candle that was short and stout but smelled like orange blossoms. In looping, gold script, the words "Citrus and Rose" were embossed on the front of the glass. She found a in a kitchen drawer, pulled out a fresh match and struck its head. Almost instantaneously, the scent filled the room. It was sweet and light.

It slowly made her uneasy. Blair thought to herself "Where did I get this candle?"

Then it hit her like a slap in the face. Brandon. Or as Stella called him, Blandon.

"Get it?" she asked through the video call. "Cause he's so boring!"

"I get it." Blair feigned a smile, as her boyfriend sat in the next room over.  She tried her best not to speak too loudly because he was the suspicious type, and would barge in at a moment's notice when he thought the girls were chatting about it. "Speaking of that, I won't be able to come home for Christmas this year."

"What?" Stella's jaw fell as rage coursed through her. "What's his excuse this time?"

"He doesn't want to fly, he thinks it's a waste of money." Blair's shoulders crumpled as she held back a flow of threatening tears.

"But it's Christmas! I thought you guys were going to have dinner at your folks' place. What are you going to do instead?"

"Well, there's a party going on down the hall and we're inv-" Stella sharply cut her off.

"No way." Blair felt Stella's harsh gaze through the camera, and for the first time ever, she was glad to be away from her. She had no idea what she would be like when she was this angry. "This is so weird. What else is he going to say to ruin this year's festivities?"

Blair sunk further into her chair.

"What did he say, Blair?"

"He said no gifts or food either." She raised her head and thought Stella was going to reach through the video chat to strangle her.

"Why are you letting him do this? It's clearly not what you want! Plus, I thought you already got him a gift and now he tells you 'no gifts' three days before the twenty-fifth?"

"Yeah, I already bought him a brand new camera and lens. But it doesn't matter anyway, like, I didn't really want to exchange anyway." Blair kept her voice together but talking about it made her want to curl up and die. "It's always so awkward exchanging gifts, so this is fine."

"Okay, Blair, whatever you say." Stella was exasperated. The two felt a bizarre sense of deja vu about the conversation, and not just about Brandon, but about her significant others. There were many more that took advantage of Blair. She tried not to let it get to her.

"Call you next week, love," said Stella.

"And I'll text you in between," said Blair. 

Blair held onto the candle in a vice-like grip. Still lit, she put the lightly scented candle on the metal fire escape of the flat, hoping it would burn out before the next time she saw it.