I coughed into my arm a few times, making it seem like I was sick and perhaps lost my voice because of it. That was my go to alibi whenever I had to deal with people “on the outside”—which wasn’t that often. I normally cooked for myself, cleaned for myself, I did everything for myself—independent maybe but also selfish. I clenched my eyes shut—I was so selfish I was blowing off my best friend. The least I could do was consider him here when I was in his company—even though he had no idea who I was.

I coughed into my arm again and smiled at the barista at the coffee shop. I wrote down our snack orders and slid it across the counter to the polite looking man. I shrugged weakly and pointed to my throat—he seemed to understand, picking up the paper and reading what I had written.

As I was waiting for our food, my phone beeped. It was Tony—

I can’t wait to see you. Literally.

I sighed and looked up, turning my head so I could steal a glance at him across the way. I didn’t deserve to be able to knowingly steal glances at him while he had no idea that I was literally right here, but I couldn’t help myself. He looked a little disappointed, a little anxious, and just thoughtful in general. I wondered what he was thinking about.

Neither can I. We’re still on for tonight, right? I typed, biting my lip. I had to try, the least I could do was try. Although I wasn’t sure how I would be bale to pull it off—he’d recognize me as Ella. He’d know I was lying.

When my phone beeped again, Tony had texted me: Of course. I’ll see you soon :D

I looked at him again and saw how hopeful his expression looked. I took a deep breath, trying to think of ways I could make this work—I had to make this work.

When our food was ready and paid for, I scooped it up and shook the thoughts from my head, returning to Tony. For just a few minutes I could pretend that things were how they were supposed to be.

“Feel better!” the worker said as I turned away. I sighed lightly to myself. A liar to everyone.

---

Hey, I’m waiting for you outside the restaurant. You’re okay right?

I sighed and wrung my hands together anxiously. A few hours had passed since Tony left, he had told me excitedly that he was going to be seeing “his friend” for dinner and needed to go get ready. I could really see the excitement in his eyes and even the slight bit of anxiousness—I didn’t know what it was for, maybe for me to not show up again?

And then, of course, he had wished me well meeting my “friend whose flight got delayed”. Tony was so kindhearted and conscientious; it made my deception a hundred times worse. He even thanked me for giving him advice and saying uplifting things about his quirky friendship with a girl he’s never really met. I was horrified at myself—horrified because of how easily I was able to sit there, acting like nothing was wrong, talking to Tony as if things were “normal”, whatever that meant. I felt so dirty and horrible, and yet I couldn’t stop myself. Talking—er, writing messages—to Tony came so natural to me, so even though it technically wasn’t “me” there, it didn’t feel wrong. But poor Tony, the entire time he had no idea who he was actually talking to. The irony was unbearable, the way he talked about me, to me. And despite the fact that he talked about me as if I wasn’t really there—because in his eyes, I wasn’t—he still treated me like I always imagined. This was the real Tony, this was the Tony I knew and adored.

And I was completely, for lack of a better word, fucking with him.

I groaned and put my hands on my head, gripping my hair angrily. I clenched my eyes shut as they burned and I was trying to hold back tears. I didn’t like crying. I didn’t like feeling so helpless…

I was back in my apartment now, sitting in the center of my bed with my legs crossed, completely divided as to what I should do. Well, what I should do was tell Tony the truth and finally face him. But I didn’t know what if I could do that. Now it was just a matter of me building up the courage to fix the mess I created. I didn’t know how to get around this—I couldn’t lose Tony. He was all I had left.

I saw my family sometimes, but things just weren’t the same with us anymore. They were very understanding at first, mom even set me up with therapy sessions to try and get me to talk. But I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t face them anymore, because I knew what they saw when they saw me—fear, horror. I wasn’t the daughter they used to have so much pride and joy in. Sure we all still loved each other but it wasn’t the same. I couldn’t be that girl anymore. She was locked away.

I’ve let my family down, I’ve let myself down… and now I’ve let Tony down, too…

I sighed lightly, my phone resting face up on my knee and Tony’s message lit up on the screen. I lifted my right hand and gently toyed my necklace in between my fingertips. I twirled the little guitar pendant. I never took the necklace off, and Tony seeing it when I was supposed to be Ella definitely made me panic. Surely there were necklaces all over the place just like it but with the way his eyes widened when he spotted it, it was almost as if he knew.

My phone beeped again and I glanced down at it—it wasn’t Tony, it was actually my boss this time. I swallowed thickly, appalled with the wave of relief that rushed through me as I read his email: Hey Tori. Do you have time to scan their single artwork tonight? The band wants to release it tomorrow morning for the fans a bit early as a surprise, I hope that’s okay. Also they’d like to meet with you either tonight or sometime tomorrow. I meant to ask you about this yesterday but got caught up with another band and artist. - Tom

I could feel an angry scream build up in my chest, creeping up my throat. I clenched my mouth shut and dug my nails into my cheeks, containing it. I closed my eyes and when I felt like it was safe, I slowly let out a calming breath. I couldn’t see Tony tonight, and on top of that I had to somehow get in an art mood and finish this piece for the band. I was pissed with the circumstances but also relieved, because now I wasn’t lying to Tony any more. I replied briefly to Tom, promising to send in the work but still tentative about meeting the band tomorrow. My head was going to explode with thoughts so I couldn’t respond to him as clearly.

Then, I moved back to Tony’s messages. I sighed loudly as I typed. That seemed to be the only noise I made these days—heavy sighs.

Tony, I’m so so so so so sorry but I have to stay overtime at work. My boss is an idiot and my clients are so demanding. I really wanted to see you and I feel so bad for bailing on you twice in one day. I’m such a horrible friend and I’m so sorry. I’ve been waiting to meet you all this time and then something like this had to pop up. I get it if you don’t forgive me because I wouldn’t forgive myself either if I were you. I feel like shit. The best day I was looking forward to turns out to be one of the worst. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.

I sent the message with shaky fingers. I was blaming it on my work—which was half true—but I tried my best to put some blame on myself, too. I couldn’t always have a scapegoat, I needed to own up to the fact that I was a horrible friend to him. I gnawed on my lip and made my way to my studio area. I didn’t have much to do for my work and I wanted to get it done as soon as possible so I could get some sleep and clear my head. For some reason I flinched, though, when my phone beeped and Tony’s message came through.

Dammit. It’s not your fault, Tori. You can’t help it. I’m here for as long as I want to be. This got off to a bad start but I know it’ll all work out. I promised that I would meet you and I will. I don’t break promises, especially the ones I make to my best friend. It’s okay. We’ll be okay.

I saw down solemnly at my chair. He was so disappointed in me—I was too. But as always he was so gracious, so wonderful. I didn’t deserve a person like him in my life. Here he was, promising to keep his promise, while I continued to lie and break mine. Yet I promised him again, anyway.

I promise that I will make it up to you. You came all the way here just to see me and I blew it. I’m the worst best friend ever and I’m sorry. I wiped my eyes and settled at my table, taking out my supplies. I hunched over the artwork, my eyes squinted to keep the water in. But then a tear fell anyway, dripping right onto the paper I was working in. I wanted to scream—I wanted to unleash, but I couldn’t. I bit down on my lip and angrily pounded my fist into the table. I picked up the piece, my eyes flickering over every square millimeter of the work so far, scrutinizing every detail. It wasn’t right. Nothing was ever right. And my pathetic tear had smudged an important detail—I would have to start over now. My mouth quivered and pursed, holding back the scream that was clawing at my throat. I let go of my hands and without another thought the work was in shreds on the ground.

Looking at my ruined piece only made me cry harder. I gripped my hair with my hands and writhed in my chair. I needed to scream. I needed to get it out. But I was too afraid to make a verbal sound, terrified that they would hear. I shot up from my chair and walked across the room, distancing myself from all of my work. I had weeks and weeks worth of art in my studio area, waiting to be used and some I still had to scan over to who they were going to. I backed up against the wall and tilted my head back, taking a deep breath before I destroyed everything. It wasn’t until my phone beeped again that I was brought back down to reality. I carefully walked back to my set up, taking deep breaths as I did so. I released the tension from my shoulders and picked up my phone.

Don’t worry about it, Tony said. And you’re not a bad friend. Our timing is just unlucky but we’ll get there. Take care of yourself tonight, okay? There’s always tomorrow.

I glanced down at my torn up work shamefully. I wasn’t taking care of myself—far from it. But Tony was right—there was always tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow I’d have some confidence. Maybe tomorrow I’d wake up a better person. Maybe tomorrow I’d open my eyes and everything would be simple again, like when I was a little kid and the best part of my week was getting to check the mail for Tony’s letter.

---

“Tomorrow” came quickly. My eyes were sore as I opened them. Swollen and kind of stuck together, my head was fuzzy and intoxicated from another restless sleep. I had miraculously finished the work late last night, scanning it in time. I had just shut off my brain and worked, without even thinking. Sometimes the ability to not think was helpful—like when I needed to get things done—but sometimes I knew it wasn’t a good thing, it made me careless for other people’s feelings, like Tony’s.

I yawned and stretched out; when I did, I heard something hit the ground with a snapping sound. I flinched at first at the sound but when my eyes and ears adjusted, I rolled over to see that it was just my phone. I swiped it off the ground and looked at it; I had a text from Tony and a few emails.

His message read, Good morning bud! I hope you had an okay night. Talk to you soon, hopefully! It was sent two hours ago—I checked the time, it was two in the afternoon already! My eyes widened and my body automatically livened up. I never slept that late. Quickly, I scrolled to my emails and saw I had two from my boss:

Thanks for the print! Sorry for the late notice, again. Looks great. I’ll let you know what the band says. – Tom.

I nodded to myself and clicked on the next email:

They loved it! They’d like to talk with you about having you do their full album artwork as well. How does tomorrow night at seven sound?

I hissed lowly in annoyance. My boss—basically me and a few other artists’ manager—was really laid back and honestly a bit lazy when it came to scheduling. It was a self-owned business, he was the main and only guy and was somehow able to make connections and spread his company. I wouldn’t know; I didn’t do business, I did art. But anyway he was pretty self-established and at least it paid well.

That didn’t make it any less annoying, though, that he was asking me to meet a band last minute when he knew how I felt about that. I met with Tom occasionally, he knew that I didn't talk and was okay with it because all that really mattered was the art I created for the clients. He didn’t say anything but I was pretty sure he thought I was a bit insane in the head, probably stereotypical of artists. I didn't blame him.

I shook my head. I couldn’t do this tonight though. I wrote him back:

Great, it’s no problem! I was worried that I didn’t hit exactly what they were looking for but I’m glad they liked it. And about meeting with them—I’ll definitely do that but I’m not feeling great today. Can we reschedule? – Tori

After I sent the message, I decided to get a little cleaned up. Maybe showering would clear my head. Although I wasn’t too sure how I would be able to clear my head at this point—I had no idea how to deal with the inevitability of seeing Tony. I wanted to see him so bad—but not as me. He couldn’t know me. He wouldn’t like me in person—of course he wouldn’t, because all I’ve been so far was lying and deceiving.

The shower wasn’t helping. I stood there mindlessly, not thinking, just letting the water sadly run off my body. I towel dried my hair when I got out; I slipped on a pair of lightly washed jean shorts with lace trim and a coral colored, stitched top. Since my hair was short, it didn’t take long to dry. I ruffled it up a bit, the ends were still wet but I didn't really care. I put moisturizer on my face and gazed at my reflection in the steamy mirror. I looked a bit eccentric with my colored hair and blue eyes—I hardly ever took my contacts out, only to clean or change them. I leaned forward and put them in properly, blinking a few times to let them adjust. I wiped my face again and sighed lightly. I liked how I looked a lot better with auburn colored eyes and rusty orange hair. I wasn’t that innocent little girl with vulnerable blue eyes anymore.

I shook my head. Hi Tony. I’m sorry, I slept in so late. Bad timing I guess, haha. But I’m up! How are you?

Moments later, he replied. Aw, that’s okay! I’m sure you’re exhausted. You’re right about the bad timing. Why does life hate us so much?? Haha. But yay. I’m good, I just can’t wait to see you, ugh! What are you up to today?

I smiled a little. It felt weird, messaging Tony with the knowledge that he was only mere miles away. But I also loved it, our relationship had been built off of the written word so it felt so normal to talk to him this way—maybe that was also why I was afraid to have him in my life for real. I would miss theses times.

I was just about to go get some coffee—meet me there? I bit my lip. My mind was screaming no, but my feet were sliding into flip-flops and my fingers were telling him which coffee shop I meant. I grabbed my apartment keys and sunglasses, sliding them up my nose and covering my eyes. It was gorgeous out today, I decided to walk because I needed a little more sunshine in my life.

I didn’t know what I was doing. I had no idea how I was going to make this work but I couldn’t stop my body from leading me to the coffee shop. I couldn’t stand Tony up again. I wasn’t thinking but that was probably for the best. I just had to show my face—ignoring the consequences and my sweaty palms, I anxiously stepped into the shop. The walk had gone by fast, not thinking.

“Oh, hey stranger!” someone chuckled. I turned my head, spotting Tony and I swear the biggest smile plastered itself on my face and I felt completely, one-hundred percent okay for one.

But then I realized that, although he looked happy to see me—I wasn’t me.

I waved shyly, my face dropping a bit as I realized what I had done. “How’s it going, Ella?” he asked. I gave him a small thumbs up, swallowing hard and blinking. “Funny seeing you here again. Is this your usual spot?” he asked. I nodded, smiling carefully. I took my sunglasses off and folded them on the collar of my shirt, shifting on my feet awkwardly. “Nice. I’m actually meeting my friend here soon,” he said, his eyes darting to the door to see if she—if I—was there.

I’m right here! I wanted to say it so bad, but waves of terror threatened to overtake me the moment the words sat on the tip of my tongue. I swallowed them down and as usual gave him a weak smile.

“It’s nice seeing you, Ella,” he smiled warmly. I nodded, reciprocating the words with my eyes. I gave him a small parting wave and gulped as I walked away. I got in line and ordered a small drink, using my handy-dandy notepad and sick alias again, receiving it without a problem. With my drink that I didn’t plan on drinking, I sunk down into the leather of a booth that was in a corner, away from the majority of the customers. I closed my eyes, wondering what to do next. I was here, but Tony had no idea. I had about zero confidence at this point; how was I supposed to go up to him and write to him that I was actually Tori? I was Ella now. He’d recognize me as Ella. I had ruined everything.

My phone beeped. It was Tony and I was afraid to open it. Hey… I’m here. His message was a lot less excited than before, as if he knew I wasn’t going to show up. I looked around the shop, seeing Tony sitting across the way, staring at his phone with a frustrated expression. I sighed guiltily. Then I received another notification, another message from him: Are you even real? Lol.

Tears sprung in my eyes. It was over. My thumbs typed away, I had no other choice but to tell him half of the truth: I’m real Tony, I’m sorry. I can’t do this.

He replied: What? Tori, what the hell? My bottom lip trembled and I glanced at Tony again—I couldn’t see his face because his head was down on the table.

I’m nervous… I’m sorry.

What are you nervous about, nugget? It’s just me! I smiled weakly at the way he tried to lighten the mood, to make it seem easier even though he had no idea how difficult it was.

Maybe we were only meant to be friends from letters. I don’t want to lose you.

I’m not going anywhere. Literally… I’m sitting here waiting for you. You mean so much to me. I don’t understand.

Tone you don’t understand. You mean everything to me but our friendship is only based on writing. And it always will be… I held my tears back. He had no idea what I meant by that. I would never speak—ever. The only way I would ever talk to him was with words written on paper, whether I was with him in person or not.

Tori, just c’mon. I’m here… we’ve always talked about meeting. Please don’t do this.

I looked to my left carefully, Tony’s arm were folded on the table and his head was buried into his arms. I was so heartless, I wasn’t even crying, I couldn’t let the tears out. My thumbs were just typing away, making him believe that I didn’t want him in my life even though he was all I wanted. Fuck.

Suddenly I was on my feet, walking towards him. I tentatively placed my hand on his shoulder—his body was warm, he was shaking a little bit. Tony sniffed and slowly lifted his head up and wiped his eyes with his sleeves. For a man who was slightly crying, he still looked breathtaking.

I didn’t give him a questioning look, I didn’t wonder if he was okay. I already knew he wasn’t. I just looked at him sadly, sympathetically. Telling him with my eyes that I was sorry.

“Hey,” he said, his voice a little croaky but he coughed to cover it up. “Care to join?” he asked, flashing me a weak grin and extending his arms out to offer the other side of the booth. I nodded a little. “You forgot your drink,” he said as I went to sit. I looked over there and frowned. I tapped my fingers against the table top for a moment before sliding up, going across the way and getting my drink that I didn’t plan to drink at all. I carefully sat down, ashamed at myself for daring to sit in front of Tony after what I had said to him.

Maybe… maybe I could get him to forget about Tori, though. I knew it was a stupid idea but I’ve already fucked up so bad—how much worse could I do? Tony was upset with me anyway, and he seemed to like the Ella version of me. Little did he know there was nothing different between us.

“Are you okay, Ella?” Tony asked, tilting his head to the side and staring at me intently, as if I were the one crying, not him. I mirrored his expression. He touched his fingers to his cheek, and I repeated the action.

Oh, I thought, as I realized I was tearing up a little. I smiled at him and nodded. “Are you sure?” he asked worriedly.

Yes, yes. I got something in my eyes, hahaha, I wrote with a gentle and hopefully convincing smile. He smiled back and nodded. He looked only half-convinced but that was enough for me; he didn’t press the subject. He seemed to be trying to distract himself from his own sadness, but I couldn’t just not acknowledge it.

I didn’t want to ask him what was wrong. I couldn’t. Instead, I just wrote, I’m sorry. As if I already knew—because I did know. He just shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m starting to think she doesn’t exist,” he laughed shortly.

Naw, I’m sure she does. She’s probably just really shy.

He nodded to himself, tracing his fingers in circles on the top of the table. “Hey! What about your friend?” he asked. I grimaced. “Oh, you too, huh?” I shrugged my shoulders, averting my eyes from his. I couldn’t bear to look him straight in the eyes. “At least he didn’t stand you up,” he replied, his tone shockingly bitter, not that I didn’t deserve it. He shook his head. “Nah, forget that. It’s okay. Rocky road, that’s all,” he said, smiling weakly.

How do you like the hotel? Besides that stuff is your stay here at least nice?

“Oh, yes,” he smiled, folding his hand into his other one. “It’s really lovely. Comfortable,” he nodded.

What happened there? I asked, nodding at his thumb that had a bandage on it.

“Accidentally stabbed myself,” he laughed a little. “Nothing a little Ninja Turtle Band-Aid couldn’t fix,” he grinned. I smiled—classic Tony.

Please tell me your favorite one is Raphael, I wrote, amused.

“No way,” he breathed. “Yes! Although I love them all. But I don’t know, Raphael, man…” he shook his head, trailing off with an equally amused expression sprawled across his face. I grinned widely, finding his excitement over the turtles hysterical.

We sat there together for a few more minutes, sipping on our own drinks and casually talking—me writing, him actually speaking. It was nice, I almost forgot about everything. I really enjoyed being here with him like this. And what got me the most was that Tony didn’t seem to mind that I didn’t talk. He would have accepted me in the beginning if I had just been honest.

As our two-sided conversation—it didn’t seem like he was talking to himself, I was actually participating even though it was nonverbally—dwindled to an end, though, his facial expression saddened. He checked his phone—for the time, maybe, but his frown deepened. That was when I realized I never messaged him again, and we had been sitting here for at least an hour and a half. I closed my eyes briefly. Tony looked like he was upset but he was keeping it together. I sighed a little and scribbled onto my notebook.

I’m really sorry she didn’t show, I wrote on the paper. I wish he knew exactly how sorry I was. More sorry than words could ever describe. I didn’t know why I said that again—maybe to get a new reaction, to see how he was feeling?

Instead of replying verbally, Tony reached across the table. He gentle took the pen from my hands and turned the paper around, scribbling something down. Even though I knew he was sad—over me, it was my fault—I couldn't help but smile.

It’s okay, he had written. I’ll get over it. Life is being a bitch but at least I’m not too terribly lonely :P

I smiled, biting the inside of my cheek. I reached over and took the pen back, ignoring the way my skin heated when our fingers brushed. I can’t imagine it’s any better here with me, haha.

“Nonsense!” he shook his head. “You’re interesting.” He said.

Ha, I wrote simply.

“Actually, it’s intriguing,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at me, his eyes slightly furrowed. I looked down, afraid that if he looked to hard he would notice that it was me, Tori.

How so?

“I can’t get over it. I mean, I’ve never talked to her in person before,” he began. His face twisted a little as he brought me up again. A strike of pain slashed in my chest but for the situation’s sake I ignored it. “But you remind me so much of her. Like, I know her from the messages we’ve sent, on paper, all that. But you’re how I imagine she’d be in real life,” he said, his words spilling over. I nearly laughed at the irony of his words, but I only smiled, raising a convincing eyebrow at him.

What does she look like? Maybe we’re twins, I wrote—probing a little bit, being sort of sneaky, but I was already being horrible so this didn’t make it any worse. Tony smiled and shifted in his seat, taking out his wallet. I nearly stopped breathing—he kept a picture of me in his wallet?

“Maybe you know her, actually,” he said. “You’re artsy. Maybe you had class with her. Even though Phoenix is big…” he shrugged his shoulders, taking the picture out of his wallet. He looked at it himself once, smiling to himself, before he turned it around, showing it to me. “It’s an older picture, but I can’t imagine she’s changed that much,” he added with a shrug of his shoulders.

I looked at the picture thoughtfully. Sure enough, it was me—me before I died my hair and acquired contacts. I smiled gently, it was a picture of me on one of my birthdays, I couldn’t even recollect which one it was. Tony had gotten me a dress for that birthday, a pretty, flowery dress, so I took a picture of myself in it for him. I couldn't believe he had saved it, let alone print it out and keep it for so many years.

I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t insult him and say, eh, she’s alright; but it’d be conceited of me to say, wow, she’s beautiful, good catch. I smiled at him and let him pull the picture back, gently placing it back into his wallet.

I bet she’s nice, I said. I internally cringed at my words—even though from his point of view it was a nice thing for me to say, it felt weird because I was talking about myself—especially because all I was right now was a lying bitch. I was trying to be polite while not give myself away. Why don’t you have a recent picture? Haha

He shrugged his shoulders. I smiled because I love seeing his mindless gestures—the way his eyebrows knit or when he smiles softly without even doing it intentionally or when he shrugs his shoulders. He was real.

She’s so secretive, lol, I wrote, the irony nearly choking me to death. Tony nodded with a small, wistful smile.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “That’s why I can’t seem to get her out of my head.”

Notes

Hey guys! Claire here:)
Thanks for reading, sorry for being a fool and taking forever to update! I feel like this is kind of long-ish so I hope it makes up for it. Precious has a heck of a lot of patience for me, I don't know how she copes haha. And also, apologies for any feelings this evokes haha. Please don’t be mad at us for their situation! We promise everything happens for a reason ;)
Thanks or commenting your thoughts so far, though, and continue to do so! You guys rock. We get so excited to see you guys excited and into this story! We loooooove you! Xo


ps. i just looked through this and I realized that I have a shit ton of typos. if I missed any, kindly disregard haha