"I Hope Not," Leyla Said With A Slight Laugh, "everyone Has Seemed To Like Them So Far." She Wasn't Really

"Yeah, there's usually some good in every experience," Leyla regurgitated some therapist's advice, though she was still working on that as a consistent mindset. "I met some really great people while I was there," she admitted. Nodding, she said, "if I spend too much time with my parents, I do." She was actually enjoying having this conversation with someone who also had the experience of not being born in America. It was so different sometimes. "Do you ever miss it?" Then again, with the business he owned, he could probably go home whenever he wanted. A quick and easy jump on a plane. Smiling, she agreed, "go us. Does it ever start feeling real? Or do you still sometimes wake up thinking 'there's no way this business is mine'?"

"Then that's all that matters, is that you found something enjoyable out of the whole experience," he knew not to push past that, understanding that family could be a tricky subject, especially when discussing with a stranger at a beach party. But discovering more about where you came from and your history was never a bad thing, either, that was for sure. "Do you ever find yourself thinking in one language over another?" he aksed curiously. "It took me a long time to realize I had started thinking in English, since I grew up speaking Italian and then Spanish," and then moved to the States and everything changed. "It's beautiful," he smied, a wistful expression. Rafael got to visit 'home' every now and then, but it was still a dream when the opportunity arose and he loved every moment of it. "I have," he nodded thoughtfully. "And now you have, too. Go us, right?"

Leyla had spent years, before and after him, trying to believe that, and it was one thing she still struggled to accept. She would hear her parents sigh when they had to pay for another treatment, even when her mother had always been the first to comment when she looked comfortable. She was a lot of work. But at the end of the day, it was love that wasn't enough. Love: the invisible concept that was supposed to make the world better. But it didn't. It was empty. Empty words, empty hopes, empty rooms. "Only you could say that after what you've done and I still believe you," she mused. When he said it, she felt a strange sense of comfort as if it were true. As if she weren't difficult or exhausting, as if she were worth loving...

It was good while it lasted, from go, he was magnetic. He was her hero, swooping in to save her at the right moment. Back then, when she had believed in love, she used to love with every part of her being. Like an electric current that kept her alive. Even through all their troubles, they felt possible to overcome. Because they were together. She may not have survived without him, and she was almost surprised she did when she lost him. Her anorexia fueled anew by spite, and it was almost a blaze that consumed her entirely. The memory made her weak, fragile heart start to pound in her chest. No one could save her that time, she had to learn to save herself. Maybe he deserved some thanks for that.

Suddenly, she was hyperaware of the busy world around them: laughing children, people splashing in the water, running around, happily chatting about how great the day was. It was hardly the place for this, especially by the exhausted looks of him, so she nodded, "okay. Maybe you can come to Mawk Tales after closing sometime--I don't live alone." She looked over at him, not sure what to say, "enjoy the rest of your day, Vitus." Then she paused and added, "I think I mean that."

"No. It was never exhausting," he said, his voice sturdier despite his lingering tears. This was one truth that hadn't changed in all the years that had passed between them: "Loving you was the easy part."

It was true—he'd tripped over his clumsy feet and fallen straight into her when they met. Some nights were more difficult than others, certainly, but Vitus attributed that to their circumstances more than any personal faults. His love for Leyla had known no limits in its intensity. It had burned through him like wildfire, scorching every inch and edge of his skin, dizzying him with head-smoke. That all-consuming heat had lit him up during a time in his life when everything else inside him felt wholly, horribly dark. Vitus had fled to California after he lost her, searching for anything else that burned like she did, and what he found in Los Angeles almost killed him. It would be a lie, to say he didn't utterly regret losing Leyla the way he did.

"I'm sorry, I'm just—" At a loss for an appropriate adjective, Vitus gestured at the all of himself. Sleep still dragged at his eyelids. He was battling a weed-and-liquor hangover, and his hands had begun to twitch in search of a cigarette, any kind of reprieve from discomfort. Vitus rubbed his face and sniffled again, grateful the tears had begun to slow, at least. "Can we—if it's not too much to ask. Can we meet somewhere else, please? Somewhere private. And I can answer every question you have then." No way would he be able to give her anything close to satisfaction, caught off guard on the middle of a beach like this.

See, solved your problem. Kevin with the chili, Bob Vance, Vance Refrigeration, Identity Theft!Jim, the possibilities are pretty endless. Oh, that's a tough one...Dwight, probably, or Stanley. Who's yours? You just get a bunch of friends to do it with you, all as various characters, and you'll win all the costume contests as a group. I mean, you could, but I think that's cannibalism, so your costume might have to be classified as horror.

I do love the Office. That’s always been one of my biggest comfort shows to watch when I need a fast pick-me-up. Who’s your favorite character in the show? I can’t be the only one going as someone from the Office, though. I’d be out of place. Ooh, that is quite the idea. Not sure how I’d dress like a strawberry banana smoothie. Can I be a banana drinking a strawberry/banana smoothie? 

Most people were reading fiction or memoirs, and she was reading like she was still in school. It's what she liked though, working made sense more than anything else did. "I did," she said proudly, "it's called Mawk Tales. The only bar you can feel safe to bring your kids too, but we do have smoothies and italian sodas if you don't want her having something called a mocktail." Finding the yellow swimsuit, she smiled warmly, "she looks like she's having a blast. Is she pretending you're not here or are you still cool?"

Wes lifted a brow in curiosity as Leyla explained the contents of the book she had been reading. It sounded kind of interesting, it definitely made sense. "You opened up the new mocktail place out this way, right?" He may not have had the chance to have checked it out yet, but he had certainly heard good things. He chuckled at the question of whether one of the tweens out on the shoreline was his. "Yeah, the one in the yellow swimsuit is mine," he laughed, "Arabella."

Flights were always one of her favorite options, especially at new places. It gave a good sampling for customers to come back and order more of the ones they liked the best. "I'll get that going," Leyla stated, giving a few moments of thought to what to include. When she started to shake one up, she asked, "you're in a band, right?"

At the suggestion of the flight, Alec paused for a moment. "Let's do that then. You can pick the other two, just no smoothies," her shook his head at the last part. Nothing better than recommendations straight from the owner, right?

Leyla paused for a moment, trying to figure out how best to describe the trip which had been a rollercoaster. "Um, it's family," she decided to go more vague, "but I did enjoy connecting more to parts of myself and my family's history." She didn't completely regret going, but she did try to reflect too much. "I enjoyed learning them and then practicing them. I wanted to be connected to all parts of myself, language included, besides I loved learning, always have." The work had always made sense before the people. "I hope so," she remarked. She did want to leave an impact on the town with her business, a good one. "I'll add it to my list," she said, all the more wanting to go based on his recommendation. "We're alike in that, sometimes new beginnings are important. Clear the slate and build something you're proud of, which you clearly have."

"Oh!" he nodded his head with understanding when she mentioned that her parents were Iranian, that it had been a trip to visit relatives. "Did you enjoy it, getting to visit family?" Sometimes it was a pleasure visit, sometimes you wanted to pull your hair out. Rafael had family in both Italy and Mexico, loved to visit both, but knew that by the end of it, sometimes he was happy to get back home and not be social. For a little while, anyway. "That's very handy, being able to speak both languages. I know from experience that it's always respected and appreciated when you visit a place and speak to the people in their own language, rather than expecting them to understand yours." Maybe not something entirely possible for everyone, but still worth a shot. "It does, absolutely. You're doing a good thing for the town," he assured her with a sincere smile. "I grew up on the Amalfi Coast, so I'm biased… but highly recommend it," it was, after all, a gorgeous town. Whether living there, or visiting. "A change. I just needed to get out of the city and start over."

Though Leyla did not have much of a sweet tooth, she was in the area to find the cat cafe and thought she might go for a small cup of something. Perking up as she heard the woman next to her murmur something about a bad day and cookie dough, Leyla offered her a supportive smile and a shrug to her question. "Will you judge me if I say vanilla?" She asked, knowing most people did have a true favorite ice cream. Cookie dough in ice cream, though, did sound like the makings of a sugar high for days, but she didn't tell the disappointed woman that. "I don't eat a lot of sweets. All of these flavors are actually making my head spin a little."

who: kennedy & open [ 2 / 5 ]

where: the creamery

Kennedy had a particularly stressful day, running around town doing errands for an upcoming wedding. She knew what she was getting herself into when taking the job, but she still found herself a bit overwhelmed from time to time. So she decided to treat herself to some ice cream, knowing she had a bit of a sweet tooth and deciding to indulge in it as some type of reward after the hectic day. Glancing at the flavors, she noticed they were out of her favorite flavor. "This day just keeps getting worse," she mumbled to herself and glanced over at the person also waiting in line. "What's your favorite flavor? They're out of cookie dough which should be constituted as a crime." she was joking of course. "But if you say mint chocolate chip, I will be judging you."

She wanted more for him, same as she wanted from him. It was six months ten years ago, and she could still remember every bit of it. If she let it, her mind would trick her into believing he was safe again. That was the thing about Vitus, though. She would push him, say things that would piss off any other person, and he'd only acknowledge it in his own quiet, self-destructive way. Sometimes, she almost wished he wasn't sorry because it would make the truth so much easier to bear.

But he was. It just didn't take it away: the pain, the anger, the feeling that if she'd been somebody else it wouldn't have happened. She wasn't the first, though, and by the looks of his face, not the last. He left a wake behind him, and that's what she fought against. It's why she couldn't forgive him. "So you've already done your damage, haven't you?" She asked, venom draining momentarily from her words. She almost wanted the anger back, then she wouldn't feel so...sad.

Once upon a time, he'd have held her when she felt this way and all the broken pieces would have just slid right back into place. Like a puzzle. But that's all it was...a Once Upon a Time, a fairytale, a happily ever after that never gets finished. The book just closes on all the unanswered questions. "Yeah," she muttered, "it's a safe place. The kind of place I wanted growing up--the kind of place we would have benefitted from. Where people are kind, know you, accept you...it's warm." It wasn't a reflection of her, thank goodness, but it was the dream. It was the little girl she'd been once. It was for her.

How did he do that? Even when she hated him, she told him things. "Listen, I know I said some things last we talked that I--I shouldn't have said," in the closest thing to an apology he would get, "but you broke me. Do you know what it's like to go to bed one night the happiest you've ever been in your life and the next day, it's...gone? Trust doesn't grow back the same when it's ripped from you, the innocent, naive belief that the person who loves you can't possibly hurt you--would be absolutely incapable of it--it doesn't come back. And whether I get hit by a bus tomorrow or live past 100, I think I'll hate you forever for that. For saying you loved me and all the ways that wasn't enough--for making me believe that meant I wasn't enough."

He'd lost entire days with Leyla, but he hadn't lost her. He remembered small details, and they came into sharper focus the more she talked, reaching with her voice to tug them loose. Details like her father's name, Rahim; her birthday, late May; the roses he had woken her with the morning she turned twenty-four. Vitus rubbed his sternum while she spoke, like he could still feel her after all these years.

And she could still feel him too, it seemed, because she turned the last sentence into a projectile and struck him right across the face with it. A wince tangled his expression.

"I'm..." Sorry. But he'd already said that, so many times, and she'd never wanted to hear it. He couldn't ease Leyla's pain like he used to, but he could give her the truth, at least: "I moved last August. Been here a full year now. I—" Cheated on my girlfriend and lost her and needed a change of scenery. Another blink, at that, as he realized what he was about to say. Ten years, during which time she'd opened that business she always wanted for herself, and what had he done meanwhile? The very same thing that had destroyed their relationship. Even after arriving here for his fresh start, he'd broken multiple people's trust. Her reminder of that lodged itself in his throat, clawing down into his ribcage, until all he could do was laugh incredulously at himself. Or try to, at least. The sound grabbed his guilt on its way out and morphed into something painful. "God. Fuck."

He forced his eyes to stay on her, lest he run again. She really did look the same—that same strong nose he'd once admired, the same hands he'd once held between his own. A few bits of tenderness, aching and bruised, pushed through to the surface. "That's... really good. That you opened your own place."