“It’s probably her that’s been tipping off the pap when we’re out. All the increased tabloids and rumors online. She’s done this kind of thing before.” Arnaud said with his arms crossed and a sour expression on his face. “She knows how to be sneaky. If she didn’t enjoy taking credit for her work, I don’t know how long this would have gone on.”
“So, all this time?” Luka felt like he might be sick. “She was just using me to get to him.”
“Yes.”
“And, her approaching me—she already knew who I was.” Luka put his head between his knees, trying to stave off a panic attack. “I don’t get it.”
“Don’t bother trying to understand her. Hey—" Arnaud paused, uncrossing his arms as he studied Luka. “You alright?”
“No.” Luka shook his head, feeling like he couldn’t breathe. “How the fuck am I supposed to deal with this? I think I’m having an anxiety attack or something.”
Arnaud moved until he was sitting in front of Luka and said, “Look at me.” He waited patiently until Luka did, then asked, “May I try something?”
It took a moment for Luka, feeling like his lungs couldn’t take in enough air, to register the question; then he nodded. Arnaud took Luka’s hands and slowly pulled them from where they had tangled in his hair. He pressed his thumbs gently into the centers of Luka’s palms and rubbed slow circles into them.
He said, “The same year Hikaru went through all that shit, Amelia was dealing with a lot of the same feelings you’re probably having right now. Joy’s focus was on tearing Reno down—bâtard?28—but yeah, we were a unit. Even back then, he was my best friend.”
He moved his thumbs up until they rested on the inside of Luka’s wrists and the point of heat gave him something to focus on. He distantly wondered if Arnaud could feel his pulse pounding; maybe that was the point.
“We were experiencing our first real breakthrough as a band, and there was all this harassment coming in from all sides. Joy used anything and everything she could to attack us. She made things up, doctored pictures… If we didn’t have each other through it I think we would have all gone mental. Amelia almost broke up with me. Three times!Trois fois?29!Only because we didn’t know how to handle it all. Ah, we were young.”
“Is this supposed to be helping?”
Arnaud hummed, then took one of Luka’s arms with both of his hands and began to rub his forearms. Luka had to admit it was keeping the panic from getting worse, at least.
Arnaud tried again: “I am only saying, we have experience handling these things now. And you’re not alone; you have us. Je suis là?30. Can I give you Amelia’s number? I think you two should be friends. Someone for you to talk to about all this who will get it.”
Luka took in a long, uneven breath before replying, “Sure.” He could see how it might be helpful to have someone like her to talk to. “Did she go through this?”
“What, panic attacks? Mouais?31.”
“I kind of figured.” Luka still felt like his heart might leap out of his chest but he was growing too tired to care. “You can stop that now, if you want.” He wiggled the arm Arnaud was still holding.
“That’s okay," Arnaud said. “I don’t mind. You still look really pale and touch can be réconfortantcomforting.”
“Thanks," Luka said, realizing that Arnaud’s touch was weirdly, very reassuring. Arnaud’s hands were so warm and confident; itwascomforting. Luka rested his head back onto his knees with a sigh and whispered, “I still don’t know if I can do this.”
Arnaud was silent for a moment, his eyes downcast. He paused his forearm massage and said, “Hikaru won’t stop you if you decide to go. He will fight for you up until the moment you tell him to stop.”
“I don’t want to go.”
Arnaud grunted. “Good. We don’t want you to go either. Can I walk you home? Do you think you can walk?”
“Is your name Arata?”
“Sort of.” Arnaud sighed. “I’m surprised you picked that up.”Arnaud let Luka’s arm go and rubbed a hand over his face, saying, “Please, don’t use it, though. I chose Arnaud when I was five. I wanted to be French like all the other kids I knew.”
“If it helps, you’ve done that well.” Luka let out a shaky laugh. “I think I can try to walk.”
Arnaud stood and held out a hand. “Okay. Let's get you home.”
1 Yes, beloved person
2 * A+ sounds like à plus, making it shorthand for à plus tard: See you later
** à 2000: at 20:00/08:00p.m.
3 Good evening,
