I fished for the remote, finding it wedged between the cushions, and clicked the Off button.
Sorry, lady. I prefer solitary confinement.
My apartment was dark without the glow of the television, but that wasn’t saying much. The blackout curtains I'd installed in the spring had been closed for months. What little light that did manage to sneak inside came only when I opened the door to grab my grocery delivery or takeout on the rare occasion I actually felt like eating.
I hadn’t seen another human in weeks. Not since I’d ordered Chinese and the Uber Eats guy had forgotten to bring up my spring rolls. He jumped as though he’d seen a ghost when I answered the door, nearly dropping the Styrofoam container. I couldn’t entirely blame him as I snatched the food from him. I’d been avoiding my reflection, but in that stranger’s wide stare, I’d seen enough to know I didn’t want to see myself at all.
I padded through the minefield of take-out boxes, plates, and half-empty cups of coffee that littered the floor on my way back to the bedroom. The only light guiding my path came from the modem in the corner of the living room that I hadn’t bothered to conceal even after years of living here.
The bedroom was submerged in darkness except for the angry-looking red numbers on the digital clock resting on the nightstand next to my phone, letting me know it was just after 3 a.m. I flopped on the mattress, cloaking myself in the cool, dirty sheets. The short trek from one room to the next had been enough to put me out of breath.
I reached for my phone as a reflex, but the screen remained black. I’d turned it off days ago and hadn’t made an effort to turn it back on. There were dozens of unopened messages and voicemails that had been accumulating since I’d been “traveling,” but I hadn’t been able to bring myself to listen to them. Not that it would matter if I did. At this point, everyone that had tried to contact me probably either hated me or had forgotten about me. As they should.
My throat was thick as I shoved the phone beneath my pillow and closed my eyes, waiting to be welcomed into the black void of a dreamless sleep.
Buzz…buzz…buzz…
I pried one eye open, attempting to orient myself in the darkness, and the buzzing continued.
Was there a fucking fly in my ear? How was that even possible? I had the place locked down tighter than Folsom Prison. How had a goddamn fly managed to get in my home, let alone in my fucking ear?
I lifted my head off the pillow, and the sound became muffled.
“What the…” I shoved my hand under the puffy cotton beneath me and grabbed my phone. The light from the screen made my head hurt as an unknown number flashed across the screen. Hadn’t the damned thing been off the night before? How was this fucking possible? I went to swipe my finger over the Decline button, but my hand slipped, causing me to hit Accept instead.
“Shit. Hello?” I answered, my voice gritty like gravel.
There was a pause and a beep followed by a chipper baritone. “Hello! I’m looking for Luca Sterling, please.”
I grunted. “Uh…”
He took that as a green light to keep going. “This is John from USA Auto Services, and we’ve been trying to reach you about your car’s extended warranty. Could I—”
I ended the call and face-planted into the pillow with a groan, my phone still clutched in my hand. The damn thing hadn’t been on in days, and when I somehow managed to power it on in my sleep, a fucking scammer named John is the one calling me. I would’ve been willing to bet he and his buddies were the ones clogging up my voicemail too.
I rolled onto my back and scrubbed my hand down my face before illuminating my phone screen again. I had to type in my passcode because even the facial recognition software couldn’t discern who I was anymore.
There were five hundred forty-three unread text messages. I didn’t check to see who they were from, opting to look at my full voicemail box instead. My finger hovered over the screen, prepared to mass delete John’s shady attempts to scam me out of money. But I stopped when I found the names of my friends and former bandmates stacked one on top of the other, sometimes alternating, sometimes back-to-back: Katie, Derek, Dallas, Dallas, Jo, Liv, Katie, Antoni, Derek, Ella, Ella, Jax, Grace, Cash, Cash…and the list went on. There were only three unknown numbers wedged randomly between their names.
I scrolled all the way back to the first message on May 27, put it on speaker, and let it play.
“Hey, Luca! It’s Katie.”I pictured her bright grin as her voice continued.“So, Dallas and I are starting this new thing. We’re hosting monthly game nights. Our first one is next Saturday night, and we were hoping that if you’re back in town, maybe you’d come by. If not, hopefully you can come next time. Okay, that’s all. Talk to you later.”
One from Dallas came in only days after.
“Hey. Are you coming Saturday or what? Call us back, dude. Where are you?”
A message from Derek left in mid-June came next.
“Hey, man. It’s me. Just checking in. Jo and I are in town this weekend so we can go see Jax and Liv at CMA Fest, and we were wondering if you were going. We’d love if you could come over for lunch beforehand. Little Addie’s getting so big. You’ve got to see her. Let me know if you’re back, and we’ll grill out. Oh, yeah. That’s a thing I do now.”
“Hey, Luca. It’s Liv. Jax and I are playing at CMA Fest, and we were hoping you could come. We’re all getting together for lunch at Derek and Jo’s beforehand. Well, not all of us. Ella and Cash and Grace and baby Betty are still in LA. Antoni and Nate will be in town, though. Anyway, we’d love to see you. Jonathan and Chloe miss their Uncle Luca, and we miss you too. The adoption will be official next month. Isn’t that crazy? Anyway, call me when you can. Bye.”
God, ithadbeen a long time since I saw the kids. Months were practically years in kid time. They probably looked so different now. Children had never been my thing, but I enjoyed seeing my friends’ kids. It never occurred to me that they liked seeing me too.
I moved my finger down and selected one of the unknown numbers.
“Hi, this is John from—”
