Psalm 22

Chapter 11

I WENT OUT OF THE STUDIO and dropped by Lea’s apartment. He was still in his purple silky bathrobe while chilling with his vape. 

“Iska, I feel so unproductive lately. My channel is dry, so am I. My skin, too. I can’t think of any interesting topic, I’ve been in my bathrobe since last night, and all I can think about is to procrastinate and stress-eat,” Lea spoke worriedly. 

“What seems to be the root of your problem?” I inquired. 

He sighed. “Sometimes I think I don’t deserve the following I have. I just talk, you know? That’s it. No talents whatsoever.”

I stared at him and held his hand. “They see you. They like what you are and what you’re bringing  to the table. And they love it.”

“I’m just glad they don’t only identify me as a gay person, you know? I’m so thankful I have no enemies because of who I am,” he sobbed.

I drew him closer. “Oh, hush, love.”

As fast as his tears came down was the same when he forced himself to cheer up. “That’s not why you’re here, anyway.” He cleared his throat. “I invited you here for a pot session.”

My eyes widened. “I came all the way for that?” I can’t believe this one. This is his version of emergency? I was so worried because he sounded all over the place and panicking is his number one go-to state. If only I could smoke the guy because of this foolishness. 

He copied my reaction. “Yes, Francess. Help a friend dispose of his stash.”

I sighed. “You know… If you wanna smoke badly, do it with good company. And by that I mean, we take it to the studio,” I suggested.

His smile stretched from ear-to-ear. “Let’s bring Kurt with us. Life for him stopped the day they divorced. What a bore.”

“Hey,” I shushed him. “He’s grieving, okay? Do not make him feel like s**t because he’s feeling that way.”

He rolled his eyes on me. “Okay, sorry, Miss Feelings. Let’s just go and get him.”

He really can’t be that insensitive? 

I kept it to myself. I don’t want to argue with Lea right now. He looks really out of his wits. Cabin fever, maybe? He might be scared that he’s the next subject of homophobes being agitated when seeing queer people. Lea stayed in his house for two whole weeks. 

When we got to Kurt’s house, he didn’t argue. He came with us on the condition that he brings his dog. I got a heads up from Henrich to bring the guys with me. 

I don’t wanna smoke so I decided to keep myself busy in the kitchen. I made my usual peanut butter cookies and a new batch, the chocolate ones. It’s perfect munchies, to be honest. They even requested I make another batch but this time, top it off with white chocolate. I didn’t hesitate because I was in the mood to bake and the need to be alone. 

Being here is cool and all. But sometimes I put pressure on myself. I created a to-do list that I need to achieve before this week ends. And today is the last day of the week. I only achieved one out of five. What I finished wasn’t bad. I concluded my Young Adult and Teen Fiction and sent it to my editor. 

What I really needed, wanted, was to understand CJ’s creative process, a rough list of the album since they worked well the last time we were presented with one but they delayed giving it to me unless I join them in the studio, study my lyrics, rewrite and submit it to the team. 

I can’t bring myself to check my old files. It’s an abomination to myself, how cringy and maybe insensitive to all those who get to read it. I was stupid then and I don’t want to suffer now. I would go off like your typical shitbag that knew nothing, frantic, edgy, and thinks highly of myself. 

I am not like that anymore. But I knew I was hurt when I was writing those lyrics and I intended to hurt the receiving end. 

“Hey,” said Henrich from behind and made me lose my train of thoughts.

“Hey yourself,” I said and presented him some fresh from the oven cookies.

“Uh, lesson learned. Don’t wanna burn my palate again.” He went on to check if they were hot.

I moved a new plate closer to him. “Here.”

We stayed there eating and it was hella awkward. I don’t know what to say, honestly. The silence is deafening and embarrassing as s**t. I can feel his towering presence even though he was standing meters away from me. He could be standing at the door and I’d still feel the same. 

Now’s not the time to pleasure myself in a non-platonic relationship. Remember, self, that we need to prove something to the world first before putting ourselves on the pedestal that I set too low because I wasn’t born an optimist and didn’t come out from a ray of sunshine type of family.

But, if I may be honest to myself for a second, Henrich, in his gentle beast state, is all that I ever wanted. 

But then again, I am not here for that. 

Sure, he can work his pipes to CJ’s liking, man the drumset, produce an album, get up at six AM to jog and exercise every day without missing his alarm, be a nice human being like we all should be, hot as fu/ck, I mean… What the actual fu/ck? 

I need a break from myself, you know? I am too hard on myself. Saying derogatory lines that’s not helping me grow, not letting me feel things that I should be feeling, and even if I let it wash all over me, I still don’t see what I can offer Henrich because I am just me… Iska to my friends, Francess to my family, never the girlfriend. 

Always the one that men make a stopover before hopping to the marriage wagon because I taught them lessons in life and actually made their characters interesting and now that they’re all that and I am less of myself after they left me, they’re ready to build a life and make a family. A one stop shop, they get what they want then leave me to my own devices. 

At least my exes are all married and I hope they stay that way. My inner monologue would go to waste if they present themselves as the unfaithful sons of bitc/hes.

So I looked over to Henrich, who was looking at me, too. 

I smiled. He didn’t. 

He took a step forward and moved his hands. I thought he was reaching for me but instead he got himself another cookie and congratulated me saying it wasn’t too sweet, not too bland. Just the right amount of whatever ingredients I used, according to him.