“You sound glum, Mike. What’s wrong?” I asked softly.

He sighed a little through the phone. “Just tired, angel. I’m missing your voice,” he said.

“My voice? Helloo,” I giggled.

“It sounds different over the phone!” he said.

“Yeah, that’s true. I miss your voice, too,” I said gently. “And your face,” I added.

“My face? I miss your face, too, but, babe, you don’t know what my face looks like,” he said with a small laugh; his voice was wary, though, as if he was trying not to strike a nerve with me. I chuckled with a grin.

“I know, but, heh,” I laughed a little nervously, “I like the feeling of your face. It tickles my cheek,” I admitted, blushing and somewhat glad that he wasn’t here to see that.

“You mean my stubble?” he laughed.

“Yes,” I giggled.

“I’ll make sure to come home with a nice stubbly face, then,” he chuckled.

“Good,” I smiled. “So, what else is going on? How did your last show go?” I finally asked. I hadn’t gotten a chance to ask him since we got on the phone ten minutes ago; he had jumped right into asking what I was up to.

Things were going well, as far as I could tell. Mike tried to call everyday, and it was usually once a day because of he time difference. It was okay, though, because I knew he was having the time of his life and I wanted him to be happy. At home with Phoebe, things were okay. Since the first night the guys left, I was “keeping an eye” on her closely. I hoped that she didn’t think I was annoying or overbearing, but I was just afraid that she would sneak away after dinner or something and fall back into her routine.

It wasn't that I didn’t trust her—well, actually, I didn’t trust her. I didn’t trust her because she had lied to me all of this time, but my lack of trust for her was in her best interest. She knew that, too. If she didn’t want help, this would be a different story. But Phoebe was very cooperative; even though it was hard for her, she was trying.

“Baby steps,” I had told her gently, rubbing her back after a rough night. And that was what she—we—were taking. Baby steps. So, yes, she had moments of weakness, but hopefully those moments just made her stronger. She described to me how she hated the way her throat burned after not being able to stop. She hated how her bones creaked when she rolled over; the disorder had taken its toll on her physically. As Mike explained when he first told me about her problem, Phoebe was thin and frail; she didn’t eat a lot, but, when she did, she forced it all back up again. The harsh truth but the truth nonetheless. However, she wanted it to end before it hurt her even more physically—Phoebe was “lucky”, in that she wasn’t in a horrible condition, yet. Although she had been struggling for two years, apparently, up until a few months ago, the throwing up was occasional because she was trying hard not to fall into the trap, or get caught. She was in a constant state of recovery, always trying to get better, which was probably why I never suspected it before and why she was doing a lot better with her friends’ support.

In a way, Vic and Mike being gone was probably for the better. It gave Phoebe some time to really focus on herself, without worrying about what Vic would think. And, because I was so focused on Phoebe, missing Mike wasn’t that painful—although I definitely did. Hopefully, when Vic saw Phoebe again, he would notice a positive difference. I already did, and it had only been a few weeks.

A few long, tired, high-strung weeks.

Every night I laid down with her, playing with her hair. When she left to go to the bathroom, I would listen to make sure she was doing what she said she was doing. Only a few times did I have to rush over and bang on the door, finding that she had turned the water on to try and drown out the sound of her making herself sick—how did I not hear her doing this before? But, otherwise, I was calm and gentle with her. During those times, she would let me in and cry on my shoulder, while I just held her carefully. I was afraid to hurt her; I couldn’t see where she was the smallest, where, if I held her too tightly, she would break. I would lead her to the sink to help her clean herself up—splash her face, brush her teeth several times (and get her a new toothbrush), and have her rinse her mouth with mouth wash. And then, she would take a shower, begging me to sit in the room with her so she could listen to me sing. Of course I said yes; I was happy to find that I could be there—and she was letting me be there—for her. I loved her too much to let her suffer alone.

Snapping back from my thoughts, I heard Mike sigh. “It was good, until the venue shut down as we were playing,” he grumbled, the memory putting him in a sour mood.

“They what?! Oh no!” I exclaimed worriedly. “Why would they do that?”

“I don’t know, it was so bad,” he sighed.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Yeah, they cut off our set early! We were so pissed,” he sighed, and just in his exhale I could tell how upset he was over it.

“You go all of that way across the world just to have that happen,” I frowned.

“That’s what Vic said,” Mike laughed a little. “Except with a lot more curses in between,” he added. “But it’s okay. We had awesome shows all around, though. Soundwave was incredible. And we’ll be home soon, at least,” he said happily. “We’re at the hotel now and our flight’s really early in the morning,” he added, yawning.

“You’re sixteen hours ahead, right?” I asked. “I keep forgetting.”

“Yes ma’am. It’s three in the morning right now,” he said with another yawn.

“Oh my god, Mike! Go to sleep!” I exclaimed. “Are you up this late every night?” I asked.

“Give or take an hour or two,” he said easily. “You should have seen us in Southeast Asia, though. Those fans were nuts. Some hung around until four thirty in the morning!” he exclaimed. I smiled; even though he was exhausted, he was still so enthusiastic about his job. “But, it’s okay. I’ll sleep on the plane and be with you by two o’clock your time tomorrow,” he said happily. I grinned.

“Time travel confuses me,” I thought out loud with a sigh. Mike started to crack up hysterically.

“It’s not time travel, silly girl!” he boomed.

“It kind of is. You’re in the future right now. And then you’ll be coming back to the past. Or the present. I don’t know, it’s confusing,” I rambled, him chuckling in the background in amusement. “But… I’m sure you can listen to my philosophies another time. Get some sleep, Mike,” I said. “I don’t want you to be cranky,” I added with a laugh.

“Yes, mother,” he teased. “Good afternoon, Faye,” he said softly.

“Er, thanks,” I laughed, rolling my eyes. “Good night slash good morning. I’ll see you… soon,” I said quietly, meaning it in the sense that he would be back in San Diego tomorrow, but also in a more literal way—the operation was in about two days, March sixth.

“Very soon, baby!” he cheered happily. “How are you?”

“I’m a bundle of nerves and excitement,” I said. “And also guilt, because you really should be sleeping.” Mike chuckled and sighed into the phone.

“Yeah… ha, Vic is growling at me. That’s my cue to go,” he said. I laughed, hearing Vic bitching Mike in the background. “Oh, wait, now that he’s more awake—” Mike paused, and I heard Vic grunt, “Fuck you for that Mike,” before he chuckled and continued “—he’s wondering how Phoebe is.”

“Oh, she’s great,” I said softly, looking down at her head that was on my lap. She was taking a nap while I played with her hair—she had set me up on the phone with Mike when he called, saying that she wanted to fall asleep to me sounding “happy.” I stroked her face gently with my thumb. “She’s asleep, right here,” I said.

“Oh, good. When she wakes up, tell her that I said hi and that I can’t wait to see her, okay?” Vic requested.

“Sure thing, of course,” I said happily. “Sorry for keeping you guys up,” I said.

“I called you, remember?” Mike reminded me. IN the back I heard Vic curse at his brother again, and I laughed.

“Okay, I’ll let you guys go now. Bye!” I said happily.

“Bye, angel. See you tomorrow,” Mike said softly. I heard Vic call a goodbye in the distance, and I mumbled another one before he hung up. When they were off the line, I set the phone down on the cushion to my right and then ran my fingers through Phoebe’s hair. By the way she hardly moved and her breathing was slow, I knew she was out like a light.

I sighed lightly, leaning my head back against the couch and closing my eyes. If it was three in the morning where Mike was, that meant that it was eleven in the morning here. My mind continued to trip over the fact that he was experiencing tomorrow, March fifth, already, while here I was still waiting patiently for March fourth to end.

I couldn’t wait for him to be back. The entire time he was gone, I didn't feel too crazily upset with his absence, but now that he was a little over a day away, I could hardly sit still thinking about him being here again.

Phoebe must have noticed my bounciness, because I felt her body shift and her head pick up. “Relax,” she laughed, placing hands on my knees that I didn’t know were jumping up and down.

“Oh, shoot! I didn’t mean to wake you! I’m sorry!” I exclaimed worriedly. Phoebe laughed.

“I was almost awake anyway. You’re funny,” she said, poking my cheek. I sighed dramatically, falling sideways. I lifted my legs up onto the couch and rested them over Phoebe’s lap.

“Can today just be over already?” I groaned.

“I know, right,” Phoebe sighed. “Let’s just sleep for the rest of the day, it will go by faster.”

“That’s all we do!” I said, dragging out the words.

She laughed. “Yeah, you’re right.” She sighed a little and laid down, snuggling up with me. “But not for long. Once you have eyeballs we’ll have so much to do!” she cheered. I knew she meant well with her statement, but for some reason I was feeling sensitive and it struck me in the wrong way.

“Sorry I’m holding you back, now,” I rolled my eyes with a serious frown.

“You know what I mean, Faye, shut up.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry. Sorry if I’m snippy the next few days. I’m nervous.”

“It’s okay, I understand. We’re both on edge,” she said quietly. “I think you’re just ready, more than anything.”

“You’re right,” I mumbled. “I’m just tired,” I sighed. Tired in general, tired of the pressure building up in my head, tired of not being fully involved with life.

“Then let’s sleep,” she said while squeezing me. “And then I’ll order pizza and we can listen to music together, okay? I know you don’t like sleeping all the time, but we do need our rest right now,” she said softly. She was right about that—I needed to rest before the operation, and she needed to rest for her own medical reasons. We both needed to take it easy, because in a matter of hours, our life was about to, yet again, flip upside down.

Notes

Sorry for the short chappy! and the filler-ish-ness!

But the operation is happening in chapter 20! Yay!

Leave me your thoughtssss! :D

xoxo