somewhere || George Russell

thirty-three

December 8, 2019

New York City, New York

"I am nothing, you are wind and devil and God. Darling, take my blood and my body for your love. Let me feel fire, let me drink poison, tell me to tear my heart in two, if that's what you want me to do," she sang to Unworthy of your love, a song from Assassins, used in a tv show she started to watch, "I am unworthy of your love, darling, darling, I have done nothing for your love..."

"What are you doing, Laurel?" Emilio walked to her living room.

She was sitting in the sofa, wearing her ridiculous green onesie with pink hearts, and covering with an orange blanket with black stripes that simulated a tiger skin, but it's fake obviously, it's just a print.

"I am seriously moving out," she frowned and pouted.

He sat down next to her. "Are you going to audition for the Off-Broadway production of Assassins?" he said after hearing the song on the tv.

"Hopefully, yes," she hummed. "Our producer is going to fire us and ruin our Broadway career if we don't accept to be branded." Once again, overreacting. They are just drowning in a glass of water.

"Good news: I found you a publicist," Emilio tried to cheer up. Laurel nodded, disinterested. "Have you called George?" he changed the subject when realized she didn't cheer up with the publicist thing.

She shook her head. "My cellphone died."

"Plug it in," he said, with an obvious tone.

"It literally died," she nodded and pressed her lips into a thin line. "I thought it ran out of battery, but I think is the display or something because it won't turn on."

"Then we are going tomorrow to buy you a new one," he once again tried to cheer her up. "Meanwhile, you can send him an Instagram text from my cellphone."

"What if he is done with me by now?" 

"And if he isn't?"

"If I were him, I would be so mad," Laurel deeply sighed. 

"Breaking," Emilio teasingly said. "You are not him. You are just being childish, do you really want to avoid conflict rather than explain George what happened?" 

Laurel bit the inside of her cheek. Yes, she is sure that this is so childish and foolish, but she hasn't texted George in a lot go time by now. Did everything just had to happen right now? Everything is so stupid. George is so patient and charming all the time, but now she feels so stupid and like the song she was singing a couple of minutes ago from Assassins, she suddenly feels unworthy of him. 

"Laurel..." Emilio insisted.

She took a deep breath. "Don't you have to go back to Miami?" 

"Rafael already left," he said, humoring her. "I decided to stay because I had the feeling that you were a little bit under the weather."

She chuckled and turned to see him. "It's totally false that triplets can feel when their twins are feeling down or not. It's impossible to feel what other person feels."

"The impossible becomes reality all the time," he said and smiled. "We have a bond that's tried and true, we can't hold that in our hands, but is like ideas, memories and love; we can't hold those things or see them, either, but that doesn't mean they don't exist," Laurel looked at him, pursing her lips. "Loving each other, that's what makes life worthwhile."

She leaned her head on Emilio's shoulder. He put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her. Suddenly the door opened, and Laurel rolled her eyes. Iray walked to them, pulling her suitcase behind her.

"You're going to help me find a new apartment," she muttered to Emilio and laughed.

"What's up, buddies?" Iray cheerfully said and sat down, leaving Laurel in the middle of her and Emilio.

"What are you doing here?" Laurel pushed her when she tried to pull the blanket off.

"I had a hunch that my twins needed me," Iray smiled.

"I told you; the impossible becomes reality all the time," Emilio winked. Laurel just shook her head.

"I am actually your new publicist," Iray admitted. Laurel's eyes widened.

Iray is very good at businesses and also advertising, so maybe she is a good adding to Laurel's PR team, now that she seems to need one.

"I told you I had good news," he smiled widely. "She is your publicist, and I am your lawyer."

"Slow down," Laurel said. "It's not recommended for lawyers or psychologists to attend their own family; it never turns out well. Those are the statistics at least."

"Yes, but we are not the average," Iray insisted. "I am you publicist and Emilio your lawyer, end of story."

"And I also got David to be Richard's lawyer in case everything gets tricky," Emilio said. Laurel parted her lips, disagreeing with that. "It's for free, don't worry."

"I can't believe you got a better lawyer for Richard than for me," she finally said.

"Don't you trust me?" Emilio pretended to be offended.

"No, waitlist," she sarcastically said to him. Iray laughed. "But, are you sure David is going to be objective with Richard in case we need him? Isn't he mad that I dumped him for a conflict of interest, and I have a boyfriend already? I mean, in case I still have one."

"What do you mean still?" Iray asked, confused.

"She chickened out and haven't called George," Emilio said.

"My phone died," Laurel insisted.

"Oh, that explains a lot," Iray chuckled. Emilio and Laurel looked at her frowning, asking for an answer. "He asked Lily for my phone number and he called me to ask if I knew something about you because you weren't answering."

Laurel blinked a few times, digesting Iray's words. "Oh my God," she yelled and stood up, throwing the blanket down. "Give me your cellphone, I need to call him right away."

"Why you didn't call him?" Iray yelled back.

"My phone died," she said again. "Also, I didn't think he is that happy with me. Probably he is mad after I yelled at him yesterday and then happened that ridiculous thing at the bar..."

"What?" Iray yelled, taking her cellphone out of the pocket of her jeans. "You just assumed that, and you live saying that assumptions are not right."

"I thought I was right," Laurel defended herself and took Iray's cellphone. "I am for sure going to make it right now," she shook the cellphone in the air and walked to her room, closing the door, leaving Iray and Emilio on the couch.