Second Chance

Second Chance

What a gorgeous day it was, with the sun shining just right—not too harsh on our skin.

The bags weren’t heavy at all, even though Angelina had crammed just about everything she owned into them.

I set the bags down next to the bus and waited for her to come over. “I know you’ll miss me, so try to keep it together,” I teased.

She let out a huff as she grabbed the bags. “I can’t help it; I want you to know just how much I’m going to miss you!”

With that, she rested her head on my shoulder, wrapping her arms around me. I playfully knocked her on the head, causing her to squeal in mock pain.

“Do you want to see me leave with a bump on my head, Little Criminal?” I laughed as she rubbed the sore spot, occasionally grazing her head in other places too.

“Maybe you should tell that to your Papa,” I quipped back.

Meanwhile, the driver’s patience was wearing thin, and we heard the horn blare for the third time in just four minutes.

“You might want to hurry up before he charges you extra，” I chuckled, enjoying the moment.

She shot a glance at the driver, “Well, I guess it’s a bit too late for that!”

We smiled at each other as she walked in, looking back with every step.

I whispered a word, no three words, no volume, but I knew she heard it loud and clear.

"I'll miss you."

I never really realised how much Angelina was a part of me—until she was gone.

Suddenly, my life felt a bit empty. I had plans to leave the city, but I wanted to fill this void first.

I didn’t necessarily need her to return; I just wanted to find something special to hold onto, even if it was just for a little while.

It had been two weeks since she walked out, and I hadn’t set foot outside this hotel room since. I wasn’t feeling down; I just had no idea what my next move should be.

I needed to figure it out.

My tracksuit hung limply on the coat hanger, waiting for someone to notice it, to give it a purpose.

Honestly, a tracksuit probably didn’t belong on a coat hanger, but since it was my space, I made the rules. I was the one paying for it, after all.

I grabbed it and inspected its pockets, hoping I hadn’t stashed away a forgotten pizza or something.

My clothes had become my own little storage solution.

As I stepped outside, I finally caught some eyes—stares that seemed to whisper, "Wow, she's actually still alive". I couldn’t help but chuckle at their reactions, a laugh more heartfelt than I expected.

Spotting a taxi right away, I jumped in without hesitating, mostly because it was a steal.

It brought back memories of when Oscar passed away, and Mr Derson read his will, declaring that all of his properties would go to the food bank.

It was a reminder that I was technically entitled to a third of Oscar's estate, but honestly, I wanted nothing to do with it anymore.

And then there was Elian, Carol's fiery-haired, muscular husband, whom I met in a cab.

A smile crept onto my face at the thought—I'd always described him that way. I realised I needed to pay more attention to personality sometimes.

"Where to?" the driver asked, clearly unsure of our destination.

"Anywhere lovely, just take me anywhere lovely.”

"Of course, Madam."

With a cheerful grin, he turned the car left, saying, "I know just the spot—let's head to the best place in town."

I settled into the chair comfortably, ready for the ride.

He parked the car at the festival, where people were bustling all around.

“This is the best spot to lift your spirits!” he shouted, bringing the cab to a stop and glancing at me, clearly eager for his payment.

I took a moment to survey the scene, letting out a sigh as I stepped out of the vehicle.

I handed him a few bucks and noticed the banner in front of me: US & REALITY, NO DEVICES ALLOWED.

It wasn’t the most crowded event, and I could tell that many people would think twice about coming to a place with no phones allowed.

I found a table off to the side; there were only two on each side, and they looked pretty empty.

Everyone else was swaying along with the music.

My eyes landed on my phone nestled in my bag, resting quietly—it was going to have to stay there.

“Wow, this is unexpected,” a voice chimed in, pulling my attention away.

And there he was.

That signature smile, the flowing red hair, and let’s not forget those well-defined muscles.

“Elian, what are you doing here?” I asked, feeling both confused and surprised. Why was he here?

"I conduct festivals like these, my crew and I, of course. I didn’t know you came to these sorts of things," He said, now handing me a soda.

I accepted it graciously, thanking him as I took it from his hands. "I wanna get my life together, understand where I'm going. I'm just tired, Elian. "

He moved his chair closer to mine, his eyes eager to soak in every word. "So, Kourtney, what's on your mind? What do you want to do?"

I let out a sigh, shifting my position for better balance on the seat. "I'm thinking about leaving the city, but there are so many things I need to take care of first."

"And what are those things?"

I took a sip of my drink, setting it down on the table with a thud. "First off, I really need to talk to MrMrsiller. She keeps saying she's not worthy or something like that, but I want to have a conversation with her."

"Alright, what's next?"

"Once, I met this artist, and we had a quirky little competition involving milk. It struck me that I had seen him somewhere before, and all these mixed feelings came rushing back—I ended up giving him a hug. He has no clue why I did it, even now."

"Keeping him in the dark seems unfair," I finished.

"Okay, what's the next issue?"

"I really want to have a heart-to-heart with my mom," I said, a sense of urgency building. "There’s so much we need to discuss."

He nodded thoughtfully, "Got it. What’s next?"

"Nothing," I replied, exhaustion weighing me down. My body felt heavy and ready for some rest..

He shook his head, his face clearly showing disappointment.

I stared at his face, not understanding, "What did I do wrong now?"

He shook his head, more turning to me, "All these problems of yours are not restricting you from leaving this city, " he replied.

"Alright, and how?"

"Talk to Mrs Miller whenever you wish, she said she wasn't worthy right?, so she won't mind whichever time you speak to her."

"Then, about the artist, just stay in touch but say you won't tell him till you decide to visit".

I genuinely listened to his words, I loved how they were advantageous, to me especially.

"Tell your mom the brief sum of it all, and when both of you are comfortable, when she's ready to listen, you then tell her everything you want.

"I hope that's more than okay, " he said.

"It is," I said, grabbing and hugging him.

"So you really think all this would work?", I questioned.

"Try it".

And I hugged him tighter, I just needed someone with me.

"Can I ask a question?" He asked me, tightening his grip a bit, enough to warm me, but not hurt me.

"Sure, why not?"

"Why are you leaving? "

I smiled.

"I realised my Second Chance wouldn't be one of love;

It'll be one of life".

-THE END-

/ Epilogue soon.