7 days in limbo [Billie Eilish]

DAY IV.2: fuck this shit i'm out

My dad gave a dramatic sigh on the other end of the line. "I'm only trying to help you, Mara."

"I know but... you're not. I just need some time. I'm not even half done recovering from last year."
I had never said a word about it but the pressure of the final year of school had been difficult to handle.

"And I am giving you time but sometimes I'm not sure if you are using it to think about your future." He sighed again and I knew he just sat down. "Remember that agency here in Hamburg I told you about? They offer great carrier counselling."

"I don't need any counselling."

"Are you sure? I can make an appointment for the next time you're home."

This was the exact reason I disliked talking on the phone. Usually I would have been able to sense when a conversation drifted into this direction and I would have distracted him with a questions.

I rubbed my eyes aggressively but managed to keep my voice monotonous. "Yes, I'm sure."

No counselling could help me. The decision between engineering and art was something I needed to make myself. Only I could make it and that was my whole fucking problem. I had been avoiding to think about it for years and now it came back to haunt me.

"They could help you look into all kinds of carrier paths if you don't know where to start. They know the best universities."

"Thanks dad but I don't need help with that."

"They're very nice and the best in the country. I know them personally."

Good for you. "Dad! I don't fucking want to."

"Ok, ok, calm down. I got it."

"It's my decision."

"Do you know how stubborn you are? It's impossible." I heard how he stood again to continue unpacking his suitcase.

"Thanks." My voice was dead but inside I was fuming. "I got it from you."

My father laughed but it did not sound too amused. I knew he was holding back another comment.

Come on, I dared him in thought, say it. Nothing was worse than his silence because it allowed my mind to fill the blanks with my insecurities.
Say I'm a failure! Say I'm not as smart as my siblings! Say I'm the reason for the divorce! Say it!

I was lucky my parents had separated when I was a toddler. It meant that I had no memory of it but it also meant that I would never stop feeling like it was my fault. Eventually I had come to the conclusion that I had been the baby planned to save a broken relationship.
As if the genetic clusterfuck of my parents worst traits would magically produce super glue. No, it had only produced me and needless to say I had failed at being glue.

"Anyway..." I was more than done with this conversation. My passive aggressiveness only ever ended up hurting myself.

"Alright, you finish editing that video and we can talk tomorrow during the meeting."

"Ok. Bye."

My finger hovered over the screen to end the call.

"Wait, Mara?"

"What?"

"Try to calm down till t–"

I hung up before he was finished. Bitter curses clouded my mind. I threw my phone on the desk and watched it skid over the surface. It hit the wall with a satisfying clatter.

I sat there at my desk, motionlessly. My eyes burned. All my strength was needed to hold still. If I moved now something was going to break. My thumb dug painfully into the scar on my finger.
The worst part was that my anger was not directed at my father. He genuinely did not care what I did as long as I was happy with it.
I was angry at myself. At my destructive indecision, my constant cowardice and worst of all at my useless anger itself.
Being frustrated with being frustrated really was my most vain talent.

I took a few slow breaths and released my clenched jaw. My right hand had started to hurt. I knew myself well enough to simply sit still and let it wash over me.

I will find something, something I will be at home with. I can adjust to anything if I have to.
Just take it one day at a time, I reassured myself. Stop thinking about the future as if it's this omnivorous black hole. It's not that big of a deal.

Meo jumped on my desk and I was glad he distracted me. He walked over my keyboard and purred when I scratched his head absently.
It was a short-term fix but I felt better with my anxiety shoved far into the back of my head.

I opened my inbox and read the email my father had passed on to me. The meeting would be tomorrow afternoon. I tried to focus on the fact that Billie was going to be there.

Around her I never felt like this. She had an effect on me I could not describe. It was as if everything except her became white noise in the background. Her existence was loud enough to make the word shut up.

And I missed it. I missed her.

I could not help it even if I damn well knew I should not even be thinking it.

To keep my mind from going back to worrying about the future I reached for my phone again and opened my chat with Billie. I sent a picture of the email opened on my desktop.

KillBill

What a coincidence
5:12 PM

You don't happen to have something to do with this?
5:12 PM

I started editing again while I waited for a response from Billie. I suspected that just having our chat open had a positive impact on my productivity. I got into the workflow and was as good as done with the video by the time she texted back.

KillBill
online

Me? Hell naw
6:40 PM

It was totally finneas
6:40 PM

He just wants to buy expensive shit now that we can afford it
6:41 PM

Yeah right
6:41 PM

What are you doing rn?
6:41 PM

Ugh press day
6:42 PM

Not your favourite?
6:42 PM

Fuck no
6:42 PM

Everybody's asking dumb questions. Not all interviews can be as good as yours
6:42 PM

Are they asking about home schooling?
6:43 PM

For real
6:43 PM

Every second question
6:43 PM

Wyd?
6:43 PM

Editing. The video has to be up in 15
6:43 PM

Am I distracting you from work again?
6:44 PM

You might be ;)
6:44 PM

Good
6:46 PM

Billie was not even in the same room as me but I felt my heartrate pick up. I saw her typing more. Texting often lead to misinterpretation in my opinion but her response left no room for doubt.

Cuz you're distracting af too
6:47 PM

Try not to kill any interviewers tho
6:47 PM

Billie had gone offline immediately after sending her last text. Maybe the response I was typing was a tad risky but for once I felt confident about it. I had a feeling she would grin just as stupidly at her phone reading it as I had reading her last message.

Or I can't distract you in person tomorrow
6:49 PM

_______________________________________

Landfill - Daughter

I am NOT ready for the next two chapers