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3terna15unshin3 · 1 year

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Then Because She Goes

You fracture light again

★ Chapter 2 of 15, 5691 words

★ Matty Healy x Original Female Character

★ warning: recreational drug use

<< 1

1 June, 2018

Inevitably, she recognized the voice she heard on the BBC the night before as Matty’s. Este listened intently to what she could catch of his interview with Annie Mac after the song played, and observed his played-up radio voice—subconsciously comparing it to the humbled one she had encountered over a month previously.

Of course Matty is in a band, she thought. He was the exact type to be a front man; flashy fashion sense, reads essays in his free time, patchwork tattoos. It only doubled the amount of questions she found herself asking. The song was enjoyable, too. It sent a surge of energy through her and Cate, inspiring a late-evening dance party between the two roommates, as they listened to the wordy and humorous lyricism contained throughout the 3 minutes. Este agreed that whiskey really did never start to taste nice, and also hoped that her 27th year didn’t involve any STIs. Her plate of eggs on toast had to wait until after the song was done to be eaten, eventually munched down by a very out of breath Este.

Back at work, she opened her phone, bored during a lull of customers. Typing ‘matty healy’ into Instagram, she found his account easily. The number of followers shocked her, but when she scrolled down to the posts, she only saw a sparse few photos. Este’s original plan was to, quite honestly, stalk his page for answers to all of her curiosities; but his basically empty profile put that idea to a stop.

Her thumb couldn’t help but click the ‘follow’ button before she even had the time to think. Glancing back at the small checklist of things she had to do before closing up, Este got back to work, letting Matty slip out of her head.

✴

[trumanblack]: este.manansala followed you.

Matty had been watching his notifications on social media a little too closely lately. With the new single out, he was heavily focused on the response it was getting, wanting to know what people thought.

Because of this, he happened to catch the fact that the girl from Greenhouse gave him a follow a few hours after the interaction came through. He was shocked that she found his account, as it had only been active again for a short amount of time, but he assumed that she heard Give Yourself A Try and did some digging. He felt extremely grateful that the new song was well-received so far, but jumping back into the public eye and kickstarting a new era of The 1975 was a mental rollercoaster. Meeting Este felt like the last normal thing he experienced before it all restarted, so he couldn’t get her out of his head.

She reminded him of Manchester, the smell of used books, the venues the band played before anyone knew their name, waiting in line at coffee shops, and the uneven pavements he last tripped over back in April. This sense of comfort he correlated with Este was a little strange, he admitted to himself. It almost brought him to shoot her a DM to strike up a conversation, but Matty thought logically for a moment and decided to just follow her back instead.

Heading onto the train, he was lucky that more promo brought him back to Manchester. He’d only be in town for a couple of hours, scheduled to meet with some local music journalists to talk about the new song and what’s to come. After his arrival, a few polite people, dressed quite professionally, took turns having a seat with him for a conversation. He enjoyed talking about his art and felt especially excited to dive into sharing the headspace he’d been in while writing A Brief Inquiry.

Matty had a completely new and introspective way to approach these interviews, and felt the need to answer every question incredibly thoughtfully. In previous years, press always felt a bit silly to him, so he took the piss out of interviewers way too often. Though he was still willing to be lighthearted and sarcastic, the conversations he held recently felt important to him. He felt some responsibility—especially while sitting in the midst of where he grew up—to push support for the arts and inspire the youth in his hometown with the passion he sometimes took for granted.

“Well, Matty, thank you so much for your time today. I have one last ask of you,” the last interviewer proposed, lifting her pen from her notepad for a moment.

He nodded welcomingly, a smile prominent on his face. “Shoot.”

“Do you have a favourite spot out here in Manchester? Whether it be a pub, restaurant, shop, what have you. I know you’ve spent a lot of your life here and I’m sure people would trust your opinion,” she said.

Matty thought heavily about it, though, sifting through the tonnes of recommendations flooding through his brain. One particular one came to the front, and he selfishly decided on it to sound extra intellectual and mysterious.

“You know, just across the Starbucks on Piccadilly and Gore is this sick used bookshop. Greenhouse, I think it's called. It’s super tiny, but I love going into secondhand shops just to sort through all the cool shit they all have,” he admitted. “Not even just that one in particular, I think the smaller the shop the better, when it comes to Manchester.”

✴ 13 August, 2018

The earl grey tea from Starbucks was super bland, according to Este’s grandmother.

“Tastes like nothing,” she complained in her thick Filipino accent. Este laughed and offered to take her tea in exchange for her own vanilla latte that sat in front of her. “You know it would just make my blood sugar spike, Anak,” her grandmother denied, calling her ‘child’, as always.

“Well then, you’ll just have to suck it up then,” Este replied, the both of them laughing and happy to be able to spend time together in London.

Her grandmother, Florencia, immigrated there from the Philippines almost 20 years ago to continue her work as a nurse. Despite the rest of the family moving up to Manchester, she and her husband remained in the big city. Now some years into retirement, Florencia always asked her granddaughter to accompany her to doctors appointments, helping them stay as close as ever over the years.

“You know everything I make at home tastes better anyway. Your Lolo would agree,” Este’s grandmother reminded her, taking another sip of her (bland) cuppa.

“Of course, Lola,” assured Este. “But seriously, do you want me to get you another drink? I don’t want to make you finish that if you don’t like it.”

Florencia thought about it, and almost said no to be humble. But eventually, she agreed, and said, “You know me too well.”

She knew she couldn’t go wrong with a black coffee, and that her grandmother would be much less critical to it; so Este got up from their table in the corner of the busy Starbucks, and queued back up to satisfy the picky woman. Approaching the lengthy queue, she soon realised who stood in front of her. His curly hair sprung in every direction atop his head and Este took note of the few greys she remembered from when they met.

“Matty?” she blurted, immediately regretting being so forward and suddenly anxious that it was a really creepy thing to do. He probably gets stopped by fans countless times a day, she thought and cringed.

He turned around, the sunglasses sitting on his face making it hard for Este to read his expression. It softened as soon as Matty recognised her. It had been a couple of months since he learned her name for the first time, and—unlike the usual cases of meeting plenty of strangers—he remembered it easily. Maybe it was the fact that he followed her back on Instagram, or maybe just that she was different from those strangers.

Este oppositely feared that he didn’t even know who she was.

“Este!” he smiled with relief.

Even with the friendliness within his demeanour, she felt the need to apologise for yupping at him from behind. “God, I didn’t mean to just call out your name like that,” she chuckled nervously. “That was weird of me,” she apologised.

“Please, don’t be silly,” he told her. “Not weird at all. I’m glad you did, actually. I was in my own little world so I would have never even looked up from my phone,” Matty said, laughing. “What are you doing in London?”

Este pointed over to her grandmother and their table. “My nan lives here and had a doctor’s appointment earlier this morning. That’s her. I’m horrible at reaching out and coming down to see her so I just escort her to her appointments to kill two birds with one stone,” she admitted.

He looked over and smiled at the old woman in the corner, noticing drinks and pastries already in front of her. “Getting a second round of drinks?” he wondered. She seemed vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn't pin any name or context to her face.

“Oh—she didn’t like her tea. I’m just lining up again to replace it with a black coffee,” Este explained, and he understood. "She’s picky.”

A space grew between Matty and the person in front of him, so they both shuffled forward, still quite a few people before it was their turn to order.

“But what about you? I’ve seen online that you’ve been quite the busy bee,” she asked.

Matty laughed at her use of the childish phrase. “I have been a busy bee,” he mocked.

She rolled her eyes in response. “You know, I was just leading up to complimenting your new music but just for that I’m going to keep it to myself.”

His eyebrows rose in excitement, letting go of the bit. “No way! You’ve heard it?” he asked genuinely.

They shuffled forward again.

“Yes way,” she laughed.

Matty nodded, trying to portray how thankful he was for the kind words.

“When my flatmate and I first heard Give Yourself A Try on Annie Mac she said it made her feel like she had tachycardia,” Este said.

“Am I supposed to know what that means?” said Matty, chuckling in the process.

She giggled at the way he said it like it embarrassed him. “I think it’s when your heart beats too fast, or something,” Este attempted to explain. “The song made her feel like that, I guess. In the best way, I promise.”

“I didn’t know it until right now but that’s exactly what I wanted it to do!” he replied with genuine happiness plastered on his face. Another shuffle towards the register. “Seriously though, I’m glad you like it. To be quite honest I’m a little embarrassed that you were listening when it debuted on Radio 1. I was incredibly nervous so I kept saying stupid shit.”

Este dismissed his embarrassment and insisted that she enjoyed it.

Their chat continued as the queue moved at a snail’s pace, Florencia repeatedly glancing over to see what was taking so long. It must have been the late breakfast rush. A thought sprung into Este’s mind after finding out that Matty would be flying out to Los Angeles the following week.

“Want a book recommendation for the flight over?” she posed.

His eyes widened behind his sunglasses that were still on, as he tilted his head in curiosity. “Of course. Always,” he confirmed, curious to hear her suggestion.

Smiling, Este began explaining her choice. “It’s called Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata. I read it all in one sitting on one of my days off last week and it was one of the weirdest fucking books I’ve read this year,” she said with a chuckle.

Matty became conscious of the fact that there was now only one person left before it was his turn. What did she say she was ordering for her nan? A black coffee, right? he tried to remember.

“Weird-good, I hope?”

“100%,” she defended, grinning at him.

He thanked her and promised he’d pick up a copy before leaving town, and then finally walked up to the register. The poor worker was the only one taking orders as the other three behind her frantically concocted the drinks. She greeted him with a friendly ‘good morning’ despite the stress oozing from her ears.

“Morning, can I get two venti black pike roasts—one with room, please?”

The worker nodded and punched his order in. Eventually his payment went through, giving Este her cue to step up and begin her order.

But, he put a hand on her shoulder before she could greet the girl in the green apron. She looked at him, confused.

“I got it,” he said simply, without explaining.

Now understanding that one of the two coffees he bought was for her grandmother, she protested and insisted that he accept the ten pound note she pulled out of her pocket to repay him.

“Este, stop, really. Let me buy your grandmother a coffee,” he argued.

She couldn’t get him to budge, so as they waited for the drinks, they bee-lined for Florencia’s table. Her sparse and white eyebrows furrowed, looking at an unfamiliar Matty.

“This is Matty, Lola,” Este introduced.

He waved sweetly to her and they exchanged smiles once the confusion disappeared from her face. “Nice to meet you, madam. I’m Este’s friend.”

A fuzzy feeling wrapped around Este’s spine as she thought of him considering her his friend.

Her grandmother waved him off, shaking her head. “You don’t have to call me madam, Matty,” she corrected. All three of them shared a laugh, before Florencia continued on, “You can call me Lola.”

Este’s cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. Christ. She just told Matty Healy to call her Grandmother. Her hands flew to her face, covering it up, and then flying to her hair to nervously smooth down the already slicked ponytail it was in.

He chuckled and replied, “Oh, I’d love to—Lola is a beautiful name you’ve got.”

Florencia immediately locked eyes with her granddaughter and they laughed. “Lola means grandmother in Tagalog. It’s what I call her, and what you’d usually call any female elder in the Philippines,” Este broke the news in the midst of their giggles.

He went cherry red as worry crossed his mind and he considered how ignorant his comment sounded. Words tried to escape his mouth and form sentences but they were barely coherent. In perfect timing, Matty’s name was called out, signalling that the drinks were ready, so she left him with her grandmother to grab them and let him continue squirming in embarrassment.

She could tell he was apologising and that Florencia was telling him that he didn’t need to, trying to help him with the pronunciation.

“It’s not like the name Lola, the ‘o’ should almost sound blunt and cut off,” she explained, and Matty attempted to pronounce it in the way she instructed. They shared an endearing moment of laughter as he tried it a few more times, and Este set down the drinks, interrupting them.

“Here’s your coffee, Lola. Matty paid for it, so you should thank him.”

Delight spread over her grandmother's face as she repeatedly thanked him, using a tone of voice Este rarely heard. She loves him, Este thought, grabbing her necklace and fiddling with it.

Matty picked up his coffee, not even realising how much time had passed. “Please, it’s my pleasure, Lola,” he tried.

Florencia nodded excitedly in approval.

“I’d love to stick around but I’ve got to head over to a meeting. It was lovely meeting you, and seeing you again, Este.” He looked into her eyes.

She looked back at them, even though his shades hindered her from noticing. “Same here, Matty. Sorry if I took up your time by blabbering at you in line,” she apologised.

He shook his head, silently reassuring her, and uttered a quick ‘bye’ before waving at both her and her grandmother as he turned to approach the exit. Smiles were shared between the three of them, and eventually, he was gone.

“Ang pogi n’ya!” **

“I know, Lola.”

** He’s so handsome!

✴ 23 August, 2018

Before cleaning up his flat to take off to LA in a few hours, Matty remembered to reach into the Waterstones bag sitting on his coffee table and grab the copy of Convenience Store Woman that was inside.

He studied the purple cover and read the reviews advertised on it. ‘Irresistibly quirky! – The Guardian’, and ‘Exhilaratingly weird and funny, – Sally Rooney’ spelled a few of them. Scanning the description on the back, he understood why the underlying theme of everything he had heard about the Japanese book was that it was weird—but he trusted Este’s recommendation and followed through with his promise.

It was going to be a fast read for him, only containing a short and sweet 163 pages. If he read it on and off through the span of his flight, he could most likely finish the whole thing.

Matty was looking forward to forming some opinions on the novel and letting Este know what he thought of it, once the time comes. When will I next be in Manchester? he thought. Surely it won’t be for a while.

There was an obvious way to get in contact with her that wasn’t just showing up at her place of employment, but somehow he was still scared to come on too strong; even after randomly meeting her grandmother in a Starbucks. Sliding into a girl’s DMs had a certain connotation that he didn’t want to accidentally display while searching for a lighthearted chat about books with a friendly girl who made him feel closer to home. It wasn’t classy.

He met the rest of the crew at Heathrow, and had a couple of hours to waste time before it was time to board. Sandwiched between Ross and George and sat on the uncomfortable row of chairs at their gate, Matty pulled out the book to get started. All of them had music playing in their headphones, trying to stay reserved and minding their own business.

25 pages or so into the novel, he was shocked at how many times he had to pause to gawk at its writing, using a pen to underline a few of his favourite quotes. Somehow the author made this impact on him without even using particularly powerful words, which Matty usually ate right up. He wasn’t learning any new words from this book, and it intrigued him. The simpler words made a deeper print on the inside of his mind.

Next thing you know, it was time to board, and he had already finished Convenience Store Woman. The short novel started off strong, but ultimately, Matty had read better. He liked its commentary on conforming to socially constructed standards and how uniquely it was represented with Keiko, the main character, but as he turned more pages, he found it harder and harder to empathise with her.

“Well, that £11.99 lasted about an hour and forty-five minutes,” he muttered to nobody in particular while he and the guys stood up to get onto the plane.

“Didn’t like it?” asked George, as he took the book from Matty and started reading the back. After a few seconds of taking in the summary, he said, “Sounds a bit weird, mate.”

“I mean, I did like it, just not that much,” Matty justified, taking back the small book and shoving it in his pocket.

They paused their conversation as it was their turn to show their boarding passes and passports, walking down the tunnel to the plane. The four of them rarely travelled all together when they weren’t touring, so it was odd to fly as a group just to get some recording done in America.

“To be quite honest, I’m surprised you even chose to buy a book at full price, especially one like that,” George continued to judge his book choice.

Adam stepped onto the plane first, in front of Matty, and scanned the aisle numbers to find their seats. He found it eventually, and gestured to Ross to come sit next to him; George stuck sitting next to a blabbering Matty, as always.

“The girl at Greenhouse recommended it to me,” he continued. “You know that used book shop across the Starbucks on Gore Street?”

“Gore… in Manchester?” George replied. “When did you go back to Manchester?”

Matty lifted both him and Ross’s carry-ons into the overhead compartment. “Back in April. When I went for my birthday,” he clarified.

George raised his eyebrows. “That was months ago mate, and you’re only reading it now? And since when is a used book eleven pound ninety-nine?” he interrogated.

Matty rolled his eyes. “Geez, got any more questions for me?”

The four bandmates sat in the same row, the walkway of the small plane departing the first two from the second two. They tried to get comfortable as the other passengers continued to sort out their bags and find their designated spots.

He looked back at George. “I ran into that Greenhouse girl, Este, just last week. It was here in London. That’s when she told me to read it, since I brought up the fact that I’d be on a long flight to LA, and that we promised to eventually exchange recommendations back at the shop in Manchester. Funny story, actually, I ended up meeting her grandmother that day as well. Lovely woman,” Matty rambled. “And it cost twelve pounds because I bought it at Waterstones yesterday, not at Greenhouse.”

All he received from his friend was a raise of eyebrows in agreement, George resorting back to his music. I’ll shut up now, decided Matty.

✴

Two movies and a couple of bags of complimentary peanuts later, Matty, George, Ross, and Adam were barely half way into their flight. Unexpectedly finishing his book at the gate left Matty with nothing to do. His left butt cheek kept falling asleep and George was snoring soundly next to him.

Deciding to try and be productive, he pulled out his laptop and placed it on the pull-down table from the chair in front of him. Matty never felt the need to pay for Wi-Fi in moments like these, so he resorted to sorting through the cluttered files on his desktop and tidying them up. Random references and photo inspiration from years and years ago still collected virtual dust in the laptop he’d carried around for the past four years.

He yawned, then continued quickly opening the countless amounts of .jpeg files he knew were of no use to him anymore and dragging them to the trash icon. The thumbnail of the image he was about to click was difficult to make out, but Matty realised it was a photo of him in the hospital after getting his gallbladder removed back in 2011. He expanded it, the grainy photo filling his screen, and he was shocked to discover that in the meaningless relic from his surgery seven years ago, he recognised the nurse posing beside him.

Este’s grandmother.

He rubbed his eyes, which were slightly teary due to his constant yawning, to try and study the photo even closer. That’s her. This world really is insanely small, Matty thought.

Florencia’s hair was slightly less white in the photo, but her beauty remained the same. Her arms were spread wide to pose playfully and a 22-year-old Matty with a baby-face was sat in the hospital bed. Blue gown on and all, he was pointing at her excitedly.

Though one of the most common surgeries to have, there was an unlucky handful of complications with Matty’s cholecystectomy. He had to be admitted for a couple of nights and he remembers being fairly nervous about the situation; but Florencia took amazing care of him, and her bright and bubbly personality stood out to him. It really helped keep his spirits high in a relatively depressing place like the hospital; that fact being the reason Matty remembers his mother asking them to pose for a photo together. He decided against deleting it, thinking that if he ever mustered up the guts to message Este, it would be a funny thing to bring up.

Mindlessly clearing his laptop of rubbish made his eyes feel heavy, so he dozed off. The guys followed suit, and for the rest of the flight they fell in and out of sleep; the band seemingly exhausted from the amount of work they’d been doing and would continue to do once they landed in California.

Excited, and slightly nervous to be back in America, they finally arrived. It was close to 8pm LA time, so nothing special was on the schedule for that night. They smoked a quick zoot outside their Airbnb and discussed what they needed to get done in the two and a half weeks they’d be staying.

Coming back inside and trying to adjust to the new time zone, Matty emptied the carry-on items he’d need to reach for the most onto the sink in his adjoining toilet and then some onto his bedside table. He came across Convenience Store Woman and opened it back up before putting it away. Flicking through it, he found what he decided was his favourite line. His eyes ran over the paragraph and felt it even more deeply a second time, especially in the context of the city he just touched-down in. Saying it aloud to himself a third time and feeling particularly loose from the weed, he impulsively opened his phone to Instagram and searched for Este. He drafted a message, quoting the book, and sent it quickly.

It didn’t say much, but Matty was far too tired to care and passed out as soon as his head hit the crisp white pillow.

trumanblack: ‘My present self is formed almost completely of the people around me. I am currently made up of 30 percent Mrs. Izumi, 30 percent Sugawara, 20 percent the manager, and the rest absorbed from past colleagues such as Sasaki, who left six months ago, and Okasaki, who was our supervisor until a year ago. My speech is especially infected by everyone around me and is currently a mix of that of Mrs. Izumi and Sugawara. I think the same goes for most people.’

trumanblack: Ouch I just landed in LA and this part felt too real

✴ 7 September, 2018

“I was wanting to read some more classics,” the curly haired customer explained. “But I just have no idea where to start. I’ve only read ones like The Picture of Dorian Gray and To Kill A Mockingbird and Lord of the Flies. They’ve all been a little heavy, and I don’t know if I’m in the mood for that. I want some more humour, something lighthearted, maybe?”

“I’m glad you came to me for classics, I have tons of recommendations.” She smiled sweetly at the young woman, hunting down the shelf she stood in front of often.

“Emma and Persuasion are my favourite Jane Austen novels. I don’t think people realise how funny she is,” Este gushed, pulling a rather old edition of the former book off the shelf. “A likeable main character makes a book heaps easier to read, and Emma is so likeable. She’s witty and confident and charming and reading through her is so fun.”

Thirty minutes later, full of the worker spewing on about her picks, the customer walked out with both Austen novels in her hand.

One of Este’s favourite things about her job was being able to just talk about books all day. Her personality was so obsessive that nothing made her feel more energised than trying to get everyone around her to enjoy the same things as her. Whether it be novels, films, music; anything.

Suddenly becoming aware of the song humming through the store, she realised that the Greenhouse Spotify playlist was looking particularly sparse as of lately. Este worked full time, so she grew tired of the same music repeatedly filling the air. She had to turn over each song quite quickly or else she’d go insane. Whenever these moments arise, she’d spend every free minute on the clock sifting through her Daily Mix playlists on her Spotify home feed to find new material.

As she had streamed Give Yourself A Try plenty of times, Este found some other The 1975 songs being recommended to her. One called Love It If We Made It caught her eye, and as the store was empty, she played it through the speakers to judge if it was worthy to be added to the rotation. She wondered if Matty ended up reading Convenience Store Woman.

Its powerful beginning took her by surprise, as she felt the pulsing beat deep in her chest. The profanity prevented her from adding it to the shop’s playlist, but she kept listening for her own sanity. The longer Este did, the more she was amazed. Her mouth remained agape as the words stamped into her subconscious and refused to leave. It was extremely bold, desperate, political, and shocking—all intentionally, Este could tell. She wanted to pick apart Matty’s brain. Hear the thoughts his mind whispered to him. Feel his emotions, deep and shallow, and know why he felt them; so much that Este considered letting Matty know how much she loved Love It If We Made It.

The idea of it scared her; throwing herself into the surely abundant sea of DMs on his Instagram, but the song and her experience listening to it felt important. She was aware that he likely heard praise on the daily and that her message probably wouldn’t mean much to him, but she continued typing away. She barely opened her own DMs herself, so she eventually found comfort in the fact that the chances he would see it were low.

It was a purely cathartic process, writing the message. Exposing her love for the song helped her put her love for music and art into a concrete and physical space. It reminded her how lucky she was to have the ability to listen to music, read books, and observe film. Este was a sponge, soaking up the world around her with open arms.

‘Love it if we made it is such an important song, I listened for the first time at the shop earlier and felt it so deeply!!!!! Hearing new music and having it impact you is such a beautiful sensation. Thank you for making me feel that again <3 The minute it feels like you’re saying too much it’s immediately just enough. It’s desperate and declarative, in sort of a scary way. But i think that’s the intention. Seriously it might be my favourite song of the year. lmk when you’re back in Manchester, you should come into the shop so i can gush some more!!!’ read her notes app.

Este shook her head and deleted the last sentence, deciding it was a little too much. She ended it with a second ‘thank you’ instead. Did I use too many exclamation marks? she thought. Yeah. Then, Este copied the text before her thumbs clicked away at her phone with the destination of trumanblack and the paste button.

To her surprise, she already had a message awaiting her—from Matty. She wasn’t lying that she rarely opened her DMs. It was dated to two weeks ago. Este instantly felt guilty for airing him and never seeing it, and a bit concerned to learn what it was about. She opened it tentatively, and her eyes scanned across the familiar words from the book she had recommended to him. A feeling of relief spread across her chest when realising that he actually went and read Convenience Store Woman, and thought to reach out to have a conversation about it. Este quickly felt guilty again.

There was no way she was sending her exasperated paragraph of compliments, now knowing that he would see it and that he sent her one first. She tried to match his casual tone and typed a couple of short replies.

este.manansala: Ugh such a good quote

este.manansala: Conformity can go die x

este.manansala: What did you think of it?

Setting her phone down after being on it for way too long while on the clock, Este busied herself with mundane tasks around the shop. She was a little sad that she sold one of her favourite copies of Persuasion, but it wasn’t the end of the world. She vacuumed the carpet, watered the plants, ordered toilet roll and Brita filters with their work card, re-alphabetised their thrillers, and more. Her goal was to have no time to spiral about a response from Matty—and it was working.

Soon enough, the shop was closed, and Este was clicking the switches of the handful of lamps that keep it warmly lit after sunset. Sam bought them from various charity shops so they were all different in their shape, size, and colour, but that’s what she loved so much about them. It was a bit of a pain to have to manually do it every night instead of flipping a master switch like most stores, but she got used to the routine and found it comforting.

She twisted the store key into the door to lock up, and the quiet walk down the street to her car allowed her to think for the first time in a couple of hours. The notifications on her phone were itching to be opened and Este could hear them screaming at her. It wasn’t until Este sat at her and Cate’s dining room table to eat her dinner that she finally scrolled through her daunting notification centre. The ‘Do Not Disturb’ setting on her iPhone was her best friend.

But, alas, Matty had responded. As she waited for Cate to arrive home from work, Este figured there was no harm in embracing the situation. They both felt some urge to reignite their conversations, whether it be by accident in a Starbucks or intentionally over Instagram. So, she opened it and typed away.

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