Chapter 2

It did not make any sense to me, but the streets of Soho had taken on an alien quality. The colours seemed to be too bright, the sounds too strange and loud, even some of the people seemed peculiar. But then I reminded myself that peculiar people in the streets of Soho were rather common place, especially on a weekend. If I had to think about it then nothing really was out of the ordinary, the truth was, it was I who had changed, I just was not sure why.

The weather was gorgeous and a pale blue sky loomed overhead. The sun beat down with a relentless heat that quickly brought beads of sweat to my forehead, but there was an occasional blast off cool air that whistled through the tall buildings that refreshed me almost instantly. If this had been a normal Saturday I could easily imagine myself wandering around with a Aidan. We never went out to buy anything, though it never really stopped us going back to the flat laden with heavy bags, admittedly all mine.

It was nice to think of the good times, but the edges of those memories seemed ragged and they were filled with that same hurt, the ache of loss. I tried to think about something else, but found no respite from my feelings.

As I wandered I felt unusually exposed, almost naked. No, naked was not the right word, I felt skinless. Even as I thought the word I knew it sounded mad, but it also felt like a harrowingly accurate description. My protective coating was gone and now I felt fragile, almost like a strong wind might topple me over and I will break again. I hated the rawness of it all, but I tried to turn away from it. If you pick at it, it will not heal, as my kosher once told me.

I checked my watch and saw that it was still early in the day, barely even 10.00 . But even at this relatively early hour the streets were full of early morning shoppers. Of course a lot of them were tourists, looking at the infamous Soho, and a few locals who I recognised and gave a quick nod as I walked by towards the nearest clothes shop.

Like before I felt like I was acting mainly on auto pilot, I had no real desire to rifle through the racks in the shop, but my higher brain functions seem to be too heavily occupied trying to keep the bad memories away.

The shop itself was rather small, with high gun metal grey walls and simple wooden shelves painted to match, and most of its selection was out on display, but it was still one of my favourites. Their clothes always felt good on me and i happened to think they looked good to. My head was still buzzing with unwelcome thoughts, so I wasn't really looking at buying anything, but that didn't stop me from picking up a few shirts. In a way there was comfort in doing this, and I felt much more myself. I pulled off a couple of shirts from the racks and shuffled over to the dressing room. In a shop this size there was only one dressing room, but since it catered for an almost exclusively male clientele it never mattered, and the store wasn't enough of an oddity to appeal to the tourist trade so I didn't need to wait to hop in the cubicle and draw the curtain behind me.

The face that greeted me in the mirror still held echos of the wraith like visage from this morning, it was very unnerving to still see myself that way, even in the midst of my ennui a sarcastic and droll voice piped up in my head.

"Oh so Emo" it said quite plainly.

It was impossible to not smile at the thought, even though it was more of a rueful grin that did not quite reach my eyes. I pulled of the jumper and my shirt and tried on the selection that I had picked up. They were not overly flashy, or shiny or as multicoloured as some of the clothes you saw on the younger twinks these days, but they were nice and suited my figure quite well. As I turned too and fro to observe the effect in the glass I felt that same warmth I had felt in my flat earlier, a kind of comforting wave that seemed to travel in my skin. Even though the icy mass of heartache that sat in my chest had not lessened or been forgotten, this warmth made it feel somehow more manageable.

It was on the basis of that feeling, that I whipped out my debit card to buy them. Anything that could of made me feel better on a day like today was worthy of purchase. At least that's how I was planning to justify it when my statement came through.

The clerk that was meant to be at the till was currently moving clothes to various racks when I got to the desk. He spotted me out the corner of his eye and called over.

"I will be right with you sir."

Sir he called me. Sir!!! Did I look old enough to be a sir ? Then again, maybe today I did. I swallowed back the remark and just nodded and stood waiting for him. I did chance a quick look his way while he worked, and I realised that there was something oddly familiar about him. This being one of my favourite shops I tended to recognise most of the people who worked here, and probably worse was that I came here so often that most of the people who worked here usually recognised me and knew me by name. But I didn't think I has ever seen him here before.

I looked closer, and realised he was a little bit of an indie boy. His dark brown hair was a little long, and he had the sort of naturally slim build that inspired lust as well as loathing, of course I wasn't looking at him in that way, but I could still appreciate he was a bit of a looker. He kept his face turned away, focused on the task at hand, but I had the odd impression he was looking at me from out the corner of his eye, but I dismissed the thought.

He walked over eventually, and I was fully able to see his features, high dark eyebrows and black hair framed his face, and his eyes were a type of cobalt blue, almost grey. I think I realised that I had been taking a little too much interest in his face, so I turned away a little embarrassed that I had been staring. But even as I made a deliberate effort to not look I was still possessed by his seeming familiarity, and I pummelled my memory to try and find his image.

"Just these two then?" his sudden question interrupted my thoughts, as he held up the shirts I had picked out.

"Yes ...... thank you" I corrected myself, there was no need to be ungracious.

He rung up the purchase and I handed over my card, still feeling a little distracted by the strange familiarity. Once I had entered my PIN I decided to turn away and make out that I was looking out the door. I didn't want him to think I was a nut job of some kind, my ego had taken enough battering recently.

I suddenly felt bad when I realised how much the opinion of a complete stranger mattered to me, especially since I had not even made the effort to get in touch with any of my actual friends. What kind of person did that make me?

"Here you go cutey, receipts in the bag" I turned and the clerk handed me a plastic bag, as I pulled out my phone and started letting my fingers do the talking. I was texting Rosie first of all, her threat of violence to my ex made her a stand out as a sudden first port of call. The phrase ex was still not something I was used to, and my throat seemed to constrict slightly at the idea, but I dutifully ignored it.

"hey bird, please keep the bloodshed to a minimum :), I'm just havin a wander round shops right now what you up to? Xx ". I didn't let on any of my emotional baggage, trying to be as flip and aloof as normal. I knew I would not be able to keep it all back from Rosie, but there was no need to pull her into my own personal black hole.

"thanks babe, means a lot x." that was all I could say to Damon, he was a man of few words and usually found this sort of thing difficult. It didn't make him any more or less of a friend, just he didn't believe in the power of textual healing.

I checked the time, and it was still to early to text Callum, he was probably still sleeping off his shift at the bar he worked at. I did not doubt that he would text me back, but I didn't want him loosing sleep over me, it was bad enough that he had probably been worried about me in the first place.

I didnt feel remotely hungry, which worried me a little, but I was still feeling a little weak from my hermit like lifestyle of the past few weeks. So I made a bee line to the nearest cafe. They had put up the chairs and tables outside to welcome the beautiful day, and I decided that it might be nice to sit in the open air. I nipped in to the cafe and put in my order, I think the drink was probably one sixteenth of coffee topped off with lots of whipped cream sprinkles and all sorts of things that were probably very bad for me. But I had a weakness for these confection drinks, and the second I handed over my money I took a deep swig of it while I went back out to sit down.

I knew I was putting off getting in touch with Derek, he may of been my best friend, but he was also something of a surrogate parent, so I knew he would be angry that I had not text him in so long. I sat at the table trying to write out the text in several different ways, but somehow I just could not string the words together, which was rather worrying, since I had never really known what it was like to be lost for words. In the end I gave up and put my phone down, and started to chip away at my coffee, still feeling the same guilt that I didn't know how to talk to my best friend. At that moment that cold place that still whirled and raged within me suddenly began to warm, then to heat, and before I knew it I felt as though I had been filled with a scalding liquid. I was angry with myself, and I acted without thinking and I just picked up the phone, dialled the number and put the receiver to my ear.

The phone hadn't even been ringing for a second or two before he picked up.
"Thank god, I thought I was going to have to go over and break down your door" even though I could not see him, I could hear the smile in his voice, I could not stop myself from laughing.

"Hahaha, well you would of gotten a shock if you had made the trip and seen I wasn't there."

"You went out? Even better, where are you?"

"Just sitting down and enjoying a coffee right now," I quickly took a quick swig for effect. "Other than that I have just been wandering round shops, bought some new shirts."

"Sounds like you are feeling better then?" I could tell from his hopeful tone that he wanted to be right. I wanted to respond in the positive, that I had pushed past the bad feeling and was my own normal self again. This however was the one man who knew me well enough that he could tell when I was lying.

"Almost," it was the best I could do to keep my voice level, the ice inside me was swirling again at the thought of my isolation and the reason behind it. I added "one day at a a time.... I guess" optimism never hurt.

"Well as long as you are ok, you fancy coming over for dinner tonight, I think I could whip up my famous lasagne". I knew he was playing dirty, he knew that was my favourite, and for the first time in I don't know how long I felt properly hungry.

"Haha, twist my arm why don't ya. Sounds fun, but can we make it tomorrow night? I have a few things to do at the flat so I think I'm going to spend the night cleaning up". It was true, the place looked an awful state as I was leaving, and I didn't like living in mess.

"Fine by me," he said the right words but there was a slight hesitation in his voice I didn't like. "you are ok aren't you?" There was nothing but sincerity on the end of his question, and suddenly I felt the corners of my eyes stinging as somewhere in the dark recesses of my head I wondered about that question too.

"Of course" I said with a fake smile spreading on my face. "See you tomorrow, bye". I hung up quickly, cutting him off. I didn't like to dwell on my feelings, and this was the wrong day to do that.

As my coffee cooled I decided to take a closer look at the shirts I had just bought, and see if I would wear one of them for dinner with Derek. As I pulled one of them out however a folded piece of paper slipped out from the fabric. I picked it up swiftly and saw that it was the receipt, but my eyes were suddenly drawn to the bottom.

There written in black biro was a phone number, and beneath that was short message.

I know it's a long shot but here's my number. I hope you use it. Jay xx.

I didn't know a Jay but it was clear to me that only one person could of written this note. The indie boy must have written it when my back was turned. Then like a ton of bricks I was hit with the realisation that he had actually called me cutey as I left the shop. I was dazed, confused, and suddenly speechless. I drank the rest of the coffee in one gulp, and I half walked half jogged back to the flat. There was only so much stimulation I could handle in one day.