Hangover II

I didn't know what to say. Well, apart from the fact that ‘Felix’, my ex-boyfriend, was part of the reasons I drank to a stupor last night.

A sigh escaped her lips, breaking the silence after. “I was scared, Livia. I tried calling you, several times, but you weren't picking up. I even called Doctor Josh, cause I thought you might be there, and imagine my panic when he said he hadn't seen you since after you visited your mom that afternoon. Then Felix?”

She gave me a look that had so many questions in it. What? How? Why? And then… when?

Felix and I have been together for almost seventeen years and still counting if not for how things ended up yesterday. I was going to be his fiancée that day, because he proposed, right at the spot where we had our first kiss.

God, it was memorable.

It was supposed to be memorable until the doctor’s call which came right before the encounter. Two days ago, I was confirmed to be diagnosed with cancer. The tumor had advanced now, so deep as a stage IV carcinoma.

I wanted to tell him. I was going to tell him, but then he found the report lying on the desk. I moved in with him when I was eighteen and we lived our lives together and… almost as couples.

Almost.

If not for my diagnosis ruining the last shred of hope that love was real amongst the fake ones in this world. A world filled with rogues and bitches.

Felix… My throat burned at the thought of his name. He ended things right at that moment and canceled the wedding. As if that was not enough, I remembered his disgust when he spat;

“It was never going to happen in the first place. What am I going to do with a dying being who has less than a few months to live?”

I was unaware of the tears that escaped my eyes, until my bed dipped, indicating someone’s weight. Sophia pulled me to an embrace, and at that point, my whole barricade of emotions from last night shattered to pieces.

He was part of my life, a part of me that fought harder and harder every day despite the bad luck and tragedy that sealed misery so far so forth.

Well, in a way I thought he did, because out of every bloody being apart from mama and my best friend, no one loved me.

They all called me names, all mocked me, made college a living hell and now the world I was in was reality, the real perdition.

Not until I found Felix Martison. Someone who I thought… someone who I believed loved me despite every challenge, but last night… last night proved me wrong.

I sobbed, harder than before, harder than ever, crying till it was never enough. It’s never enough for me. I am cursed. That’s the truth. The bitter truth.

My shoulders shook under the pressure of my whimpering and Sophia’s warm hands brushed my back ever so softly, muttering the kind words, her actions indirectly urging me to empty my aching heart.

And I did.

I’ve been a struggling girl almost all my life, and now I’m sick. I wasn't wealthy like others, wasn’t privileged, and didn't have a job or any financial source. But I had love. Or what I thought it was, until it wasn't.

The only thing humanity left of me was torn into shreds. My love life is also sick.

Finally, my lamentation transformed into silent sobs before sniffs. My eyes burned at the amount of tears I had exhausted and the little blurring of my vision, my throat now sore and my head heavy like it weighed a big rock.

Not to talk of my muscles. They felt really really slimy.

Sophia pulled me away, staring empathetically into my eyes. “Oh, Livia,” she sighed, pulling me into another hug that lasted for just three seconds. “I swear, I’m going to murder that prick,”

“Sophia,” I bite down the urge to burst into laughter but somehow, I end up chuckling, leveling her a glare.

“What?” She retorted. “I can mind my own language but not on that-” She paused, figuring out she was about to make another mistake, which I guessed and sighed.

“He doesn't deserve you. I swear, not even a single piece of you. Not here,” She pointed to my chest. “Nor here,” and my brain. “He’s just some piece of shit and you have to move on. Okay?”

At that point, I didn't know which hurt most. My hangover or heartbreak?

Or… the tumor.

I looked at Sophia and sighed shakily, wondering how to begin explaining to my best friend that I have cancer.

That I am dying.

I should tell her. I am supposed to.

But I instantly regretted it. It felt like the whole world was placed on top of my head and I winced, my hands rubbing my temples.

She deserves to know. Among all the people in this world, she was the last person left of me. My ex dumped me due to my diagnosis and now… I’m about to face another.

I stared deep into her eyes and she gazed back, that warmth that didn't cease to dim. She didn't deserve this. But I realized I had been selfish.

Maybe I am. Maybe keeping this would save something rather than shredding it this time around.

“Are you alright, Livia?” She asked and I gulped, fighting the hot burn now on my cheeks.

“S-Sophia I…” I paused, taking a deep breath. My hangover wasn't helping matters either.

“Are you alright? Should I call the doctor? You look pale,”

“Y-yes, I mean n-no, I’m… I’m fine. It’s just that I…”

Because right on cue, my phone buzzed on the glass coffee table. I blinked at the bright screen and saw the name that sent a chill colder than last night’s Manhattan rainstorm:

“Dr. Mendez – Mom’s Oncologist.“

I stared at it. Willed it to stop ringing. But it didn’t.

Sophia gave me a warm pat on the shoulders, before grabbing the empty mug, and walking away, shutting the door behind her, like I needed the space.

With trembling hands and a brain that was very much still fried, I answered. My voice came out like gravel.

“H-hello?”

“Olivia, good morning. Sorry to call so early. I just wanted to remind you that we’re fast approaching the deadline for your mother’s surgery. We’ll need to begin the pre-op within the next 72 hours if we’re going to move forward as discussed.

My stomach twisted. Hard.

“Y-Yes, I know,” I whispered, sitting upright as if that would somehow make me sound more capable. More adult. “I… I’m working on the funds. I’ll figure something out.”

There was a beat of silence on the other end, then his voice softened. “I understand it’s a lot. But time’s not on our side, Olivia. She needs that surgery.”

I nodded, then realized he couldn’t see that. “I know. I promise. I’ll get it done.”

After he hung up, I sat there in silence, feeling the weight of reality collapse around me like scaffolding being torn down. The tequila hangover was child’s play compared to this.

I dropped my phone face down, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from crying.

I recently lost my job, and still on the run for others. My boyfriend broke up with me because I’m diagnosed with cancer. My mother is terminally ill and needs an urgent surgery.

And I-

And then the universe, being the bipolar diva that it is, threw me a curveball.

*Ding.*

I recognized that sound. An email notification.

But I ignored it. Too much. My mind was messed up, and I could swear if one more sound came up, I would explode-

*Ding. Ding.*

Okay, now it was just being persistent. I reached for the phone like it might bite me and blinked at the screen, expecting unnecessary emails but got something that dropped my jaw.

“Subject: Interview Invitation – GrayHill Enterprises”

And I blinked. And blinked again.

Perhaps the effect of the tequila manipulated my vision but when I read the subject again, I knew what it was.

My jaw instantly dropped.

No. Freaking. Way.

***