Psalm 22

Chapter 12

“WHAT WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?” I muttered to myself as Henrich left the room.

“s**t,” someone grunted from outside the room. 

I recognized the voice. It was Kurt and I found him pacing in the hallway. When he went to the front door, I closed the door behind me and followed him.

“What are you doing here?” I asked as I sat beside him. I am now sitting at the steps leading to the studio. I didn’t bother to invite him back inside because he looks like it’ll take a lot of convincing before giving the green light. “How are you, my friend?” 

He didn’t answer. He was fiddling his phone. I wanted to peek what he’s so busy about but I asked him instead of having to look over his shoulders. “You wanna share what you’re doing with that?” 

He grunted and showed me his phone. He was checking his ex-wife’s activity on the Internet. It looks like she’s having the greatest time of her life considering she just got out of a bad relationship. I gave back his phone and tapped his shoulder. I hugged and squeezed him quickly. “Ya know, I can’t have you checking your ex-wife's activities all the time. Don’t think that I didn’t notice you visiting her socials. Kurt, please,” I begged him. “Don’t do this to yourself. Give yourself time and space to heal. Knowing what’s happening to her right now, looking at her pictures, obsessing over your shared memories with her… it won’t do you good.”

He looked at me with pained eyes. “What do you suggest I do?” he asked hoarsely.

“Give me your phone,” I demanded. 

He frowned at me, not liking every bit of what I said.

“No.” He tucked the phone in his back pocket. He sighed before saying, “So, this is where you’re staying. They’re paying for this?” He stretched his hands wide enough for me to understand he meant the immense land housing many studios and nurturing Motherland at the same time.

I nodded. “You like what you’re seeing?”

He, too, nodded. “Hell, yes. Paradise. You get to work in a paradise.”

A breezy wind swept us. I hugged myself as I prepared for the fleeting coldness. “I know,” I looked at him. “Do you wanna stay here, Kurt?”

“As what? Don’t they have tons of sound engineers?” His forehead in knots. 

“Tons? You’re exaggerating. CJ knows you. He will take you in.”

He obviously didn’t like what he heard because he’s looking at me with disgust. “I’m not a charity, Francess. You write, god, don’t you know how to phrase and sew sentences together?” 

I was obviously shocked by the change in his mood. “I’m sorry. Really, Kurt.” I got up and held his hand as he stood and was ready to leave. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“What did you exactly mean?” He looks like he’s ready to storm off. He let go of my hand.

“I meant that you are excellent in what you do. High quality recording in and out of stage. The ranch has their own engineers but it will be great if the team has their own, right? An addition to the group.” I looked up at him as he ascended another step. 

“I needed to know if my wife—”

“Ex,” I emphasized. “Wife.”

“Ex-wife. I needed to know if she’s taking care of herself. If she’s not self-destructing like me. If she’s living a happy life. And I’m thrilled that she’s all I’m not. Maybe working here will take things out of my mind. I do not have to spend another day with my miserable thoughts.” His shoulders were hunched as if he was carrying the world. 

“It’s not like I’m giving myself merit but I will be here. Pindet, too. I’m working alongside Anaé, she’s a good listener. Henrich, the producer, you met him a while ago, he’s great, too.”

He smirked. It was the first time today that I saw his face muscles move other than the default sad, full of anger Kurt type of face. “Henrich, huh?” he said as if it meant something. He turned his back on me and started walking. 

I chased him and managed to match his steps. Him and his long pair of legs. I had to run if I wanted to know what he meant. “Don’t leave me like that. Henrich, huh. What does that mean?” I was trying to catch my breath.

He filled his lungs with air and put his hands in his waist. “You like the guy, this Henrich?”

I had to laugh. It sounded funny to hear it out loud. “Nope.”

He rolled his eyes. “Sure. Whatever makes you sleep.” He started walking away.

I followed him. “Am I really that obvious?” 

He stopped to stare at me. “Francess, come on. You’re bad at this. You can’t maintain a poker face even if it means saving you.” Kurt started walking again. 

“Huh,” I said quietly. “Anyway, it’s not important.”

He looked at me as if I’m crazy. “Are you afraid of him?”

I want to swallow my tongue by what I’m about to say. “Afraid of getting hurt, is all.” This feeling is new and I don’t need it to distract me. Last effort for self-preservation. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now. My real job, the book Anaé and I are working on, my relationship with my parents, with myself. 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Kurt said. “But there’s no guarantee about not getting hurt. You will spend a lot of time with Henrich while working with that book. But you have the choice of getting out of here, just visit them sometimes, if you really want to keep that fence sturdy and termite-free.”

I snickered. “Termite-free?” I repeated.

“Yeah. ‘What ifs’ will bug you and eat you up.”

“If it’s the other way around like him eating me…”

Kurt was fast to look at me with distaste. “You repulse me.” 

“Eh.” I shrugged my shoulders. 

As we entered the room where most of the people were smoking, I saw Henrich plug the air humidifier. It was at that exact moment he looked at me and winked. He held out his own blunt as if inviting me to join him. I declined by shaking my head sideways. I tapped Kurt on his shoulders and excused myself. I hurriedly went back outside to catch my breath. 

“Francess,” someone called from behind. I turned around and saw Henrich who followed me here. “Are you avoiding me?” he asked.