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t ǎ n t è | 忐忑

[Chinese]: A kind of perpetual anxiety; a state of worry, where your senses are so heightened you can feel your own heartbeat.

I NEVER LIKED the concept of coincidences.

While a lot of others chose to believe that things happened because—well, because they just did—I preferred not to. I preferred to be among the few who believed that it was all deliberate. A string of actions that harmonious, and contrasting, just had to be well thought out.

I believed that there was no way so much shit could happen to people—to a single person, for all of it not to be a sequential arrangement of some devious, and grand master plan. It was nothing but a never ending cycle of dominos warped in gothic cynicism.

Many people liked to believe in the helplessness of sheer misfortune, and who would blame them? It was an easier poison to pick, and once upon a time, it was mine too. Although that changed pretty quickly. Now, I believed that life was just quite the cruel bitch, and that more often than not, she outrightly wanted to screw us up really, really bad.

No one else sure as hell would do the job.

And granted, the vial I drank now was bitter. Much bitter than the one I used to. But still, as far as I was concerned, all the hope and the fairytales clouding my weak mind had already done enough damage. Those were maybe even worse. They caused me to have faith in hollow shells; to seek fixing from pincers that only shred the meagre shanks I had left. Fairytales—fairytales lied.

On the other hand, if the raw, hard truth about reality burned skin, then fine. I'd take that. It could go ahead and burn until the flames licked bone.

After all, better the devil you knew, right?

Hearing the ding that signified my break, I all but bolted so I could catch a breather. My skin prickled with heat, and the familiar vice clamped down on my chest so much it physically hurt. It was as though the entire room had been submerged into inky, murky water and my bloodshot eyes could barely see through the stinging film. I felt my pointer finger go on twitching like the jittery end of a rattlesnake, and it took all my will not to repeatedly pound my hand on the hardwood. Not to stop until it fucking stopped.

No need to make a scene.

Swallowing the bulb that had grown in my throat, I took in a shaky, but deep breath. I needed some air. I needed to breathe.

"Hey," Gabby called from behind. I turned around and met her all too familiar, concerned gaze. "You okay?"

I nodded, although my neck moved so fast it nearly gave me whiplash. Gabby didn't miss it. "I'm just fine." Once her look didn't let up, as expected, I gently squeezed her arm. "See you in half an hour."

She sighed and said nothing more but a, "be careful."

I let myself out of the kitchen with a strawberry smoothie in hand, absentmindedly remembering Cole wouldn't be coming over today. It was good, anyway. I could spend my thirty minutes taking a much needed stroll outside.

It was one of those days. My head was screaming. Everything felt too much, too damn fast.

Quiet. I just needed quiet. To have the world slow down for me, if only just a little.

What I expected once I got out, was to leave and follow my original plans. Even the glass doors were already calling out like a path to peace. What I didn't expect, however, was to see a startlingly present Cole, waving at me from a corner table like a lunatic.

I was duly taken aback, before I shot him a look and proceeded to make my way over.

Him being here wasn't even the most surprising factor. It was the observation that for the first time ever, he wasn't alone.

And he knew how I felt about that.

The woman he was with had her back turned to me, so I really could tell nothing about her appearance, except the fact that she was a brunette.

"My dear, sweet love." Cole was practically beaming once I got to them. "Surprise."

"You said you weren't coming."

Unsurprisingly, my rather sour demeanor didn't faze him as his grin only widened further, and he tapped the empty seat. "It's lovely to see you too."

I shook my head, afterwards lowering myself on the chair. And I might not have sported a huge smile because he was here, but all I found myself wanting, was to clench my fingers around his wrist, and bury my head in the crook of my elbow. I wanted him to talk my ear off and tell me tons of things that didn't matter. What Stella said after cornering him at the club three nights ago. How he finally tried his hands at cooking again and nearly burned his entire apartment. His insistence that I was a hobo and he needed to take me clothes shopping. Anything. I just wanted him to make it better.

Still, that was before I heard a familiar voice call out to me, causing me to remember we had actually been three, and not two all along.

"Bruce?"

My head whipped to the right immediately. Confirming my suspicion, I came to find out the girl in shades less than two feet away from me, was none other than my drunken friend from the night before.

I blinked. "Lauren?"

"What are you doing here?" I began, at the exact same moment she asked, "You're Cass?"

My brow arched in further confusion, as she took off the dark glasses and stared straight at me. In response to the increased brightness though, she squinted.

"You're Cole's best friend?" she spoke once more, her voice much quieter this time. "How?"

"How do you—" I cocked my head to the side. "How do you even know him?"

Cutting us off from our amazement at the entire situation, we heard Cole let out a loud cough.

"When you both are done," he started, "please enlighten me on what exactly is going on here."

I couldn't help but chuckle, and Lauren joined in.

"You know how I was drunk off my ass last night?" She took over. "I honestly don't remember much, but I know how I am when I'm wasted. This place was the closest to Adver's I could find that didn't sell more liquor." Then, she shot me a knowing grin. "Bruce here, took care of me."

"If you call her Bruce one more time, so help me, I will lose it," Cole deadpanned, before he turned to me. "And you helped her out last night? Of all people, I thought you wouldn't give a shit about some irresponsible, obviously lightweight, bratty girl child who—ow!"

I didn't need to look, or think far to know that Lauren had given him a good kick in the shin.

She ended up grimacing though, her fingers beginning to rub her temples in agitation. "First off, do you have to be so fucking loud?" She quickly put her shades back on. "Also, I might feel like death right now, but just know I can still easily drag you to the other side." I couldn't help but sip on my smoothie in slight amusement, as I watched the scene before me unfold. This was quiet.

"And for your information, I had about eight shots of hard core tequila last night. You try that and keep your balls intact."

"Honey, my balls are always intact," Cole stated calmly, shooting Lauren a shit-eating grin. "Wanna have a look?"

Her face was washed clean with a look of disdain. "You disgust me."

"Right back at you, princess."

"Okay," I swiftly cut in. "Quite frankly, all of this is making my drink look more and more like vomit with each passing second." I offered Lauren a patronizing smile. "So could we please not talk about Cole's nutsack? Like ever?"

"Agreed." She nodded, but apparently, that wasn't before mumbling her final come back. "After all, who knows where on earth the thing's been?"

"Why, I'll have you know—"

"Zip." My eyes more than sufficiently narrowed, and thankfully, Cole took the hint with a scowl.

"Fine," he conceded, afterwards firmly planting his arms on the table. He clasped his hands together. "Lauren, why don't you tell our friend Cass why we're actually here?"

This part was interesting, and I found myself redirecting my attention to my right.

"Oh, of course. I was getting to that." I could picture Lauren rolling her eyes behind the dark glasses hiding them. Still, I couldn't blame her. The hangover she clearly was experiencing had to be nothing short of a pain in the ass. Although she managed a smile as she fully turned to me. "Cass, we want you—well, Haven to work for us."

I arched a brow. "Please elaborate."

"Alright." She squared her shoulders, and like an off switch flipping on, I observed her shift into a more or less, formal pose. "My family's hosting a cocktail event next weekend. And don't be fooled, it's always more business, than it ever is pleasure. Still, I'm partly organizing this time, and as always, it'll be a bit of a big deal. So I was wondering if Haven could supply us with finger foods, as well as dessert for the gathering."

I blinked at her, before my gaze shifted back to Cole.

He raised his hands in surrender. "What? Believe me, I wasn't the marketer here. You guys pretty much sold yourselves," he said, and then tilted his head in Lauren's direction. "That one over there? She only tried the hogs in a blanket, and a slice of corn meal cake...She's still not over it."

"I'm not," Lauren affirmed, causing me to turn back to her.

"Oh, well, thank you." I smiled. Admittedly, a job offer wasn't anything over the top, or beyond amazing. Regardless, if there was one thing I had learned, it was to gratefully accept the small streaks of light. This for the team, no less. "And of course, we'd love to take the job."

She lightly clapped her hands. "Perfect. Now, where can I speak to your manager?"

About the next half hour was spent with Shawn in his office, and when I actually thought Lauren wouldn't even remember him from the night before, she debunked my theory. They discussed the quantity and variety of food, and then finalized the deal, all the while talking and making jokes like they were old friends.

Not to mention, she was paying really, really well.

"So, you really haven't told me the relationship between you two," I piped up, as I led them both out. My break had been over a while ago, but Shawn gave me a free pass considering the circumstances. I certainly couldn't move when Lauren insisted she wanted my opinion on absolutely everything.

She clicked her tongue. "How do I even put this mildly? Cole's basically plagued me my whole life. I almost think I could pronounce his name before I even knew what on earth mine was." At that, the said plague tugged on her ponytail, but she only shrugged him off. "He's my brother's best friend. They have been since forever, and all the sappy shit along those lines. So yeah, I'm so sorry he's been cheating on you."

I faltered for a bit, actively putting one and two together in my head. "You mean, your brother as in..."

"The one who lugged me off last night, yes," she confirmed with a sigh, before Cole shot me another questioning look altogether.

"You've met Brian?"

I pursed my lips before answering. "Apparently so."

"Dump his two timing behind, Cass. You'll be much better off, trust me," Lauren said. I shook my head and smiled when she put a hand on my shoulder.

"Oh, if anything, I'm the other woman," I told her. "Cole's just uneasy because his dirty little secret's finally coming out."

From the corner of my eye, I observed Cole's posture stiffen, and then he shook his head before slowly trudging ahead of us both.

But deep down, I knew I didn't miss his last words because he didn't want me to.

"Please. If there's anyone who hasn't ever wanted to leave the dark, we both know it's you."

And then, I stayed quiet.

Coleman knew. Coleman knew what he'd done. Because through that one sentence, two emotions had been carefully interwoven. It would come off as a mere joke to Lauren; a harmless little scab. But between us, it would mean more. It would mean a whole lot more. Give it to him to lace his poison darts with honey.

He didn't mean it.

As was expected, Lauren snickered in response. And sooner rather than later, I plastered a smile on my face before laughing at the jab myself.

But then, I remembered something. Thankfully, something much easier.

"The breakup," I said, my focus shifting to her. "I'm sorry I didn't even ask. How're you holding up?"

Before Lauren could get any words out though, Cole butt in with a scoff.

"You're better off not worrying about Lauren and her boyfriend, Cass," he told me. "They'll be back together by tomorrow."

The woman in question was clearly a step away from tackling Cole to the ground. If I could get a clear glimpse of her eyes, I was positive the daggers she was glaring at his back would have more than thoroughly stabbed him dead.

Then, she took a deep breath and turned to me.

"I'm still not talking to him, but we may work things out," she grumbled, before hesitating upon adding the last part. "It's possible I might have...overreacted a little on my end."

I smiled. We both knew what a little most likely meant.

At the door, we all said our collective goodbyes. Lauren and I ended up exchanging numbers, and she wrapped her arms around me, squeezing as though we had been best friends since first grade. Her smell reminded me of silk sheets and jasmines, all glossed over with a hint of confident mischief.

At Cole's more familiar hug though, he lingered a little longer. Enough for me to hear him whisper I'm sorry.

I only patted his back in response, the faint line of hurt already slipping out of reach. I let him know we were okay. We always had been. Hopefully, always would be.

The pair got into his car, and with a final wave, they were off.

Meeting new people—or rather, making new friends—wasn't a regular thing for me. Still, I found myself glad that if Cole decided to disregard my wishes once, it was with someone like Lauren.

And despite his trial at modesty, robbing himself off all the credit for the job opportunity Haven just got, it still was because of him. He didn't have to being Lauren here, and she didn't have to taste any of our desserts, or our food when she could have easily gotten what she wanted from hundreds of much more gourmet options.

Still, he was my best friend, and he always did what he could.

Moreover, and about expanding my circle, Lauren's vibrant energy gave me a strong feeling that I had added one more arc to the curve.

__________

The sound of nothing but my own screaming jolted me awake.

My throat felt like it was pulsing, and my lungs were forcefully being dragged out of my mouth. Immediately, I sprung up from the bed, chest heaving and breathing rapid, as I tightly clutched the woolen fabric of my blanket. I increased my grip until I could sense my knuckles turn white. Until I squeezed so hard, the pressure trapped itself in my balled fists and I couldn't feel it.

But I could feel everything else.

Feverish shivers raked through my entire body, every nerve now in commotion from being so brutally shaken into consciousness. All my fingers kept trembling to the same erratic rhythm as my heartbeats. The exact same agonizing thump thump thump.

It was like being rattled from the inside out. Loud cackles, and steel chains wrapped around me, as every single part of me was thrown into the chaotic frenzy I was always powerless over.

And that was the worst part.

Feeling so disgustingly powerless.

It had been a while.

My lips parted as a hoarse gasp escaped my mouth, the sound resembling the croak of a dying frog, or better yet, the wheeze of a wounded animal. Either way, it sounded foreign. It sounded like something that didn't belong to me—that wasn't me. I raised my fingers up to my cheek.

No tears.

Although the sweat certainly made up for it.

Sheen clung to my skin as though it had become an additional layer of epidermis. All damp, and sticky, and irritating. The beads of moisture trickled down my forehead, all the way to my chin, and even further down until they disappeared beneath my clothes.

I wanted it all off.

Stop. Stop. Stop.

The blaring sirens continued ringing in my ears, and deciding to rein in experience, I tried to normalize my breathing by taking as many deep breaths as I possibly could. In and out. In and out.

It's passed. This is temporary. It's over.

The next sound seemed faraway, but I assumed it was loud. I soon came to find out that it was Gabby who had pushed the door open.

She didn't just stand in the doorway, with tired eyes wide. She didn't call my name, or ask me what was wrong.

Because in her ignorance, she knew.

She only rushed forward, and after awhile, I felt the bed dip on the side her knee had sunk into. Feeling her fingers curl around my arms, was what made me realize I'd actually been covering my ears with my hands so far. And I discovered I was still mumbling to myself.

In and out. In and out. In and out.

Slowly, coaxingly, she removed my hands and wrapped her own arms around me. I was still fumbling to hold on something—anything—but before I could lose it, her hand had let itself into my strong grasp. My nails all too readily dug into her skin, and it hurt. It hurt because I knew how much I was hurting her. Still, I just couldn't stop. But I wasn't the only one who knew that. Gabby also did, and it was why she never, ever showed me her pain. It was why she cleaned up her cuts with clinic wipes when she thought I wasn't looking. Why she shielded the crescent markings on her skin from my eyes.

"You're okay," she spoke at last, her voice the only logical and sensible thing amidst the chaos. In a calming motion, her fingers ran themselves through my disoriented, tangled mess of hair.

"I'm here, and you're okay."