ON MY WAY TO FIND YOU

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Track of the day: To Find You - Ferdia Walsh-Peelo

* * *

When Wendy confessed to Irene, it wasn’t the time when her feelings were returned. This was the time when Irene rejected her, for quite a few reasons, and she didn’t mean to do harm. She didn’t intend on doing that. She partly knew herself that something within her has fallen for Wendy but a part of her hesitated—her logical side.

She remembers it now though after all the years that passed. Still remembers it very clearly as if it happened yesterday.

* * *

It takes a moment for the words to register in Irene. The small chatter that lingers above the air, the sound of the bowling pins rattling against the floor, they are the first to hit her ears. “Did I really hear it right?” she wonders. She really has to tune in, drown out all the background noise before she can really hear what Wendy has just said.

I do like you. I like you as a person. And in that way.

Clang. Like the heavy bowling ball meeting a set of pins at high speed, it hits her and it hits her hard. Irene finds herself swallowing a gulp. She blinks her eyes a couple of times in disbelief and then suddenly, a feeling of pure ecstasy washes over her, tingling her senses alive, brushing her pale cheeks the colour of red.

“W-Wait, I don’t understand,” she manages to say.

Wendy, her face a blank, awaiting, beads of sweat evidently glinting on her forehead, says, “I like you, Irene. I really like you.”

“That’s a confession, right?”

Wendy smiles nervously, “I suppose it is.”

Irene feels elated. It’s true. But maybe it is because she is a student and she has learned to overanalyse things, that she hesitates now. She wants to give an answer to Wendy. A positive response to a simple, succinct confession. Yet she knows of all the kinds of consequences this will surmount to. More rumours, for a start. It’s like being enraptured in vines and these vines will just keep growing and spreading to unknown bounds that is unfamiliar to Irene and she feels… scared. Her heart beats furiously but her mind says one thing: It’s not right.

Besides, Irene isn’t sure herself if she is ready to pursue a relationship with another girl. It’s too risky. Like walking on thin ice. And it’ll be her first relationship. That in itself is daunting enough even though it may seem exciting to some.

“It’s all too unexpected,” Irene finally says, panic resonating in each of her words. “I’m sorry, Wendy. It’s not going to work out.”

And Irene gets up and heads straight for the door.

* * *

A week has passed.

Irene has gone along to the rhythm of life, trying not to let what has occurred in the bowling alley interrupt with her everyday routine, her studies, her job. She turns up at the convenience store diligently, not missing one shift and tries to do her best when she’s there. Her mind will sometimes wander back to that moment and a small part of her will regret what she has said but she knows it is the right thing to do. It is the only thing she thinks she can do.

There is too much at stake. Too much responsibility. She isn’t sure, not really. She needs time. It’s been a week and yet that is still not enough time.

On the other hand, Wendy hasn’t been turning up to work. Since she confessed to Irene at the bowling alley, Irene has not seen her around. She’s not at the bus stop, not at work, not at the library, not anywhere. It’s been a week and though she may be glad that she’s not had the opportunity to face Wendy again after what has transpired, she can’t help but be worried. Wendy is complicated and Irene has come to know, over the times they’ve spent with each other, that along with that complexity of hers, comes this certain fragility. This fragility that compels Irene to protect Wendy.

Irene sighs. She puts back on the shelf the packet of cigarettes a customer has left behind after changing his mind. Maybe she should visit Wendy. It then occurs to her that she doesn’t know where she lives. It’s not like she can visit her or anything. Maybe Wendy doesn’t even want anything to do with her now. Upon that thought, Irene feels something within her deadened. She realises this is the consequence of her action. She has chosen this path and maybe it’s something now that she needs to start getting used to.

* * *

The next day, Irene attends her morning lecture on poetry. She spots Joy sitting on the far side of the room, her long black hair in a ponytail. She is wearing a red, v-lined jumper which makes it easier for Irene to spot her, despite the class being around fifty in total in the number of students.

“Morning, Joy,” she greets and Joy nods at her and smiles.

“You look a bit… lost. You okay?” Joy asks.

Irene raises a brow and takes the seat next to Joy. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s your hair or that brown sweater but it’s like I’m looking at a cat who has wandered way too far out on the garden that it ended up on someone else’s garden on a different street in a different town.”

Irene remains quiet. She takes out her notepad and her pencil case and places them neatly on her desk.

Joy continues, “It’s Wendy, isn’t it?” This causes Irene to look at Joy.

“You’re crazy.”

“I told you she’s trouble.”

“It’s not that,” Irene says. “It’s not her.”

Joy shrugs. “It’s not my business to know anyway. That’s yours and Wendy’s. Meddling will be like crossing a border I need a permit to. And you haven’t given me that permit. Not yet. But, hey, I’m your friend. We’re friends so I worry about you. I don’t want my friend to be looking so gloomy, so down. So…”

Irene knows where this is going. Whenever Joy starts a sentence with that word emphasised by an elongated tone, she knows it’s going to be an invitation to some sort of party. Joy is like that. She’s young, free in spirit so she likes to go out and socialise. Mingle with people she doesn’t know and probably won’t even see again the next day. Maybe it’s her way of filling up that empty compartment within her body. Everyone has that compartment. The compartment that needs to be packed through social interactions, connections that are made between each individual, fleeting or everlasting. May it be big or small, it needs to be filled or each day goes by really slowly, the ticking of each minute hand in the clock lasting like a century, the sound of it deafening on the ears.

Irene figures Joy’s compartment is massive with a hole in it because she never tires of talking, of meeting new people, of building new bridges even if it may be weak and wooden in frame. And Irene thinks hers is just thimble-sized that gets filled to quickly, much to her liking. She only really needs one person to fill it.

Joy sees the dread on Irene’s face before she finishes her sentence so she continues in a different way, “It’s not going to be bad. I think you need it. Distract you from all the things your head must be going through right now.”

Irene’s brain has been torturing her lately. Too much frequency that she finds it hard to concentrate on the simplest of tasks. As much as she tries hard to focus, to stay on the path her choice has led her to, her mind will often meander to that zone she has attempted to quarantine off. The zone filled with memories of Wendy.

It’s a strong compelling force. It’s as if the first time Irene has come across Wendy, back at the pub a few months ago, when she played a song on the piano, a link has been established between them. When their eyes have met, even for a split second, through that strong compelling force emitted as Wendy hit each note on the keys, she feels as if their souls have merged together, their string of fate tied into one. And no matter how hard she tries to cut that string apart back to its original state, she just can’t. After all, once something has changed, it’s really hard to bring it back to how it was before.

So, Irene finds herself in resignation to Joy’s invitation. As if on cue, their lecturer enters the room and the class begins. Little did Irene know then that she’ll see Wendy later on in that same party Joy has invited her to.

* * *

The party is on the Friday night of that same week. The house where the party is at is a block away from the dormitories. It’s already packed when Irene and Joy has arrived. All of the lights on the house are on and the speakers on the sound system are hard at work. It causes Irene to grimace. The song is too loud and its pounding on her ears but inside, at the same time, she’s glad for it. It drowns out all the endless chatter within her mind. It distracts her from what she can only think of now as the noises of her regret. The regret of her choice to leave Wendy that day on the bowling alley.

Soon enough, Joy parts from Irene and goes off on her own way, in that tangent that Joy is only familiar to. Irene has once stridden in that tangent before but her steps never landed the right way, causing her to stumble along. Her footsteps will not leave a mark. It’s as if the tangent itself is rejecting her. And Joy’s not the type to hold someone’s hand. Irene realises then that she is not meant to walk down that way. She knows that now.

Irene instead decides to go to the kitchen. Maybe wind herself down with a drink, whatever the concoction is in that glass punch bowl on the table. She grabs a plastic cup and scoops herself a drink. She is about to drink it when a hand comes in and takes the cup from her. What the—

“A pure child like you shouldn’t be drinking whatever the hell is in that bowl. Rule number one in house parties: never go for the punch bowl. Never. A bottle or a can of beer is the best option.”

“Wendy…” Irene says under her breath, perplexed more with the fact that Wendy has found her and approached her than with the obvious truth that Wendy herself has resurfaced and is here right now.

Wendy smiles in response. Irene notices that Wendy’s hair has changed. A strong burgundy colour, darker and bolder than it has been before. It’s tied up in a messy bun. Irene also notices how Wendy seems to have lost a bit of weight and the oversized black hoodie makes for a poor attempt at hiding it. She walks towards the fridge and Irene notices then how Wendy walks. How there’s a subtle limp in her gait and that she’s trying really hard not to show it.

With that casualness that only Wendy can exude, she hands Irene a bottle of beer after opening it by popping the top of the bottle on the edge of the granite counter.

“Here you go,” Wendy says.

“Thanks, I guess.”

There is silence between them. The booming sounds of a bass-laden techno song can be heard throughout the house. Wendy watches Irene with a gentle look on her face as Irene takes a sip of her beer. Even though, neither of them spoke, oddly enough, the silence that lay between them isn’t heavy. It’s a familiar silence that has become somewhat like common language to them both. Something natural and accepted in their world. Also, despite not having seen each other in a while and despite of what has transpired the week before, for a strange apparent reason, the sense of awkwardness is not there. It’s as if nothing has happened. And even if that may be so, deep down, the truth lies: the two of them have been changed for good.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Wendy says out of the blue. It is something she didn’t do before. Throwing compliments randomly.

Irene feels herself redden. Even after all that time, after telling herself that this isn’t right, she still finds herself stirred by Wendy. She guesses that she can’t deny what is true. A part of her knows that. A part of her knows that the thimble-sized compartment within her has been occupied by Wendy and try as she might, only Wendy can fill it. She is the only one who can fit perfectly, fill it completely and wholly.

When Irene doesn’t speak, Wendy continues, “I figured I needed to be more straightforward. Not just imply it, but say it. Show it.” She smiles warmly. “I usually take no for an answer, but for some reason, with you I can’t.”

Irene sips more of her drink, ignoring the bitter aftertaste of yeast and alcohol.

“Over the days that passed, I thought about what you said. How we’ll never work. I thought about it hard. I mean, I agree. I’m a mess, I know. I have habits—bad habits—that I’m not proud of. I have baggage. We really will never work,” Wendy pauses then and fiddles with the string on her hoodie before continuing, “But, you just won’t leave my goddamn mind, you know? It’s like you’ve latched onto me. I don’t know what it is about you. You’re usually not my type. I usually prefer girls like your friend Joy. The outgoing type, the wild, do-whatever-they-want types. But something about you has drawn me in.”

Irene tilts her head back and chugs all her beer. She places the bottle on the table before speaking.

“I don’t really know what to say, Wendy. I didn’t think we would end up here. I guess maybe I did know. Maybe a small part of me knew back then. I stepped into this rabbit hole, got engulfed and got entranced by everything in this new world, I got a bit lost. I’m unsure. I’m scared. This is territory I’ve not ventured in and it’s not something I would normally venture to.”

Wendy shifts her stature and decides to lean on the counter. “I didn’t think it would go this way either. You think you know something. You’re sure you know of it. That you’ve got control of it. But you never really do. That’s life. Sometimes the wind gets too strong, a storm forms and it blows everything you thought you’ve secured. But we just gotta live with it, with what happens in the aftermath. Now you came along in my life, grabbed a piece of what’s really left of me and took it away with you. And you can’t give it back now because even if you do, that piece is never the same anymore. It has become yours now and that’s the aftermath I have to live with.”

Irene waits for Wendy to continue. She watches as Wendy crosses her arms, knits her brows and closes her eyes, searching for the many words to say that has been left unsaid in the past few days.

“I guess what I’m really trying to say is that I don’t want to give up. I really like you, Irene.”

Irene heaves a sigh and then breaks into a smile. In the stream of vapid smoke that clung on the air, the nonsensical conversations and pop music flooding the space, Irene finds sincerity in Wendy’s words. Maybe it’s because, for the first time, Irene has seen Wendy clearer. The fog that has enwrapped her in a silhouette of mystery is slowly unravelling itself as if Irene has peeled a layer off. And maybe that’s why she’s smiling now. She’s turned a page and learned something. Uncertainty is still there but at least she now holds a piece of information that she can carry with her on her journey through this strange, mystical world within this rabbit hole.

“How did you know I was going to be here?”

“I didn’t.”

“You didn’t,” Irene repeats.

“I stayed at home for the past few days. Listened to records. Tried to write some songs.”

Irene hums in acknowledgement.

“This girl I know called me. She owns this place. I figured I might as well go out. My place was getting stuffy and I needed to smoke. It’s a no-smoking building, you see. I can smoke on my way over to her place. I went inside because it got a bit cold but I found myself needing a drink. Smoking can dry your throat a little bit. So, I went to the kitchen and lo and behold, I found you.”

“Well, thanks for saving me from whatever it is in that punch.”

Wendy smiles again, her eyes not leaving Irene’s. “Anytime.”

* * *

A/N: Wow, two years has passed, I think? Almost. A part of me wanted to abandon this fic because I didn't like the way I write in some of the pieces in here. I was trying to write in a different way and it wasn't what I was comfortable in so it was really hard for me to write something and read the whole thing back as well. Anyhow, I've managed. I guess I've been attached to the characters and the story that I can't just let it go. And I guess this story is also my way to let out some of the angst inside of me which acts as my sort of therapy haha. Besides, reading some of the comments a few days ago inspired me a lot so thank you to all you kind souls who took the time to leave some. 

I think 'cos it's been so long, I've forgotten what I intended to do for this story and so this is really not how I wanted it to happen but in the end maybe it works out better? Btw, I didn't proofread this and straight out just published it 'cos it's 3AM and my brain cells are giving up. I just want to share it already haha. (I'll re-read it tomorrow and check)

Again, thanks for the continuous support and appreciation to this fic :)