3 : Commitments

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"Say what?" Veronica reclined while she tried not to scowl. Her friend's stern tone just didn't convince her to believe  Théo would pop the question real soon.  "I know it's the weekend tomorrow, and as surprising as it may be to you, I'm not high right now," Veronica quipped.  "You're that bored? I thought you got that magazine job?"

"I did. It's not like I'm on the cover or anything, but, yeah," Jamie muttered on the other end, her tone less enthused. "I asked T flat out—  You got this one by the short and curlies, man." Her friend of almost four years sounded serious and fairly disgusted at the same time.

"Asked him what?"

"Théo bought the ring last week. The store along Rue de la Paix."

For a while Veronica remained tightlipped as she blankly stared at the neat beige carpet. She grinned, able to muster a comeback. "Be serious;  how drunk are you right now?"

"Dead serious, Via," Jamie drawled, imitating Théo's deep voice and accent before laughing at her own impression. "Oh, you're so done for."

To distract herself, Veronica got up to check if Kyle and their handy guys were done. She saw Kyle outside the entrance,  sweaty with his dark hair all over his face. He helped the guys get rid of the wiry mess near the door.  A minute later, her chest still felt heavy as her phone stayed pressed onto her ear.  "It's probably just a gift...for Christmas or— I dunno."

"Veronica Michel, he's gonna propose," Jamie insisted. "Stop imagining otherwise."

Veronica let out a laugh. "For the record, the last one was better than Bre's. This, however, not even the least bit funny." She craned her neck and sank in the leatherette couch, supposing Jamie was just as bored beyond words as Kyle at the moment. "Seriously, I thought he was gonna call it off last time," she admitted. Actually she was quite taken up with Théo, who, for some reason, had sent her a series of vague messages last night. "He just sounded...morose. Grumpy."

"He's gonna propose, stupid."

She bit her thumb, mulling and letting the news fall into place. "You sure you've taken your meds this morning?"  Veronica snickered at her own joke. 

"Quit it! I couldn't sleep, okay? I had to tell you."

At her friend's imperative tone, Veronica sank more in the sofa. The covering made a scrunching noise against her back, and she just stared at the black-and-white painting of a creepy-looking farmhouse hanging by the doorway. Once more, she tried to let the bombshells sink in.

"Sorry— I felt like I had to," was Jamie's next excuse.

She sucked in a deep breath, clueless on how to react naturally to the news. "You're not joking. This is actually happening." Veronica noted the same awkward silence on the other end.

"That guy's haywire."

"I know."  Veronica imagined Théo shopping alone in the jewelry store. What on earth was he thinking just buying an engagement ring? She gawked at the  walls to try to come up with a reasonable response.

"The next day, though...shock's worn off," Jamie said next.

"You've no idea how ridiculous you sound right now."

"V, I really think it's not just 'cause...he feels kinda guilty, or something."

"Just to be clear, I still think this is another one of your stupid pranks— I mean, we hadn't seen each other in months."

"The point exactly," Jamie retorted in a mumble. "He looked awful. Probably even depressed. Misses you a lot."

"I'm sort of takin' it all in right now, so don't say anything more." She removed her hand from over her mouth. "I need my mom." Veronica clutched her baggy sleeve and sat up straight. She might have to tone her stupefaction down just so nobody around would notice her absolute mental shock.

"I do think he's more serious about it now...after what happened." Jamie sighed, then asked her if she was going to say no. Jamie knew she was thinking of suggesting to Théo that they take a breather for the meantime. Just to see how things would turn out.

Only because she didn't want him to feel like he had to act tied to her, as much as she didn't like pressuring him to find time so they could be together more often. Now that they were both kept too busy by their jobs, she understood why he couldn't just fly out to spend time with her whenever she wanted.  With the band's string of international tours coming up, she doubted they would get to spend at least a week alone to unwind.

Jamie cussed, her grumbling cutting through her train of thought. "He looks awful, like, two packs a day again. Looks seriously skinny now."

"I know. We had a video chat." Veronica frowned at the thought of Théo smoking more often lately, instead of trying to kick the habit. Théo smoking more often also meant he was stressed and not resting enough or eating healthy.

"I know you're all chaotic over there right now. But I felt like I had to tell you. 'Cause you're really going to tell him you need some time off, right? When he flies back to New York?"

With her palm pressed on her forehead, Veronica closed her eyes  and sighed again. "What the f—  What am I gonna tell him now?"

"Enfaite, ce n'est pas tout et ce n'est même pas la moitié de ça."

"Merde. Je ne sais pas..."

Jamie sighed noisily. "Men." A drawn-out silence lagged before either of them spoke again. "So...you're saying no?"

"Can't just...say no," she stammered.

"Sure?"

"No." Veronica wanted to shout in frustration. "It's only been two years. For him to decide on something that huge and imperative— I haven't even met his family yet."  She clasped a chunk of her hair.

"Met grandma and sis."

"Yeah, but, I just think he's jumping into things 'cause he's getting frustrated, and 'cause...I dunno.  Maybe it's eating him up."

"He's so distraught. Texted me five times today," Jamie droned on. "It's like, he knows you're gonna say no, but he's doin' it anyway.  Shit. Tell him you'll just take a rain check."

"Freakin' insane."

Théo? Proposing?  She couldn't even recall him having any recent talks with her about their particular plans in the future. Their lists of life goals to strive for in the years to come. Let alone a discussion about a future together.

"Sorry," Jamie muttered. "I know you guys are real busy with the recording and everything."

"No, babe— Thanks. Thanks for calling."

"Hey, by the way, you're moving to New York this year?"

"I dunno, babe," Veronica mumbled. "I mean, if I get the cash before Christmas."

"Call me tomorrow or next week. I'll be out all day this Sunday. Casting calls."

"Yikes." Veronica shifted in her seat the second she heard someone walking towards her. "'Kay. Bye." She hung up.

"Jamie?"

After pocketing her phone, Veronica looked up and saw Kyle standing next to the smaller couch. A pair of white portable speakers was in his grimy hands. "Uh...what's that for? Thought we're using the old ones?"

"Just borrowed 'em." Kyle wiped his face with his shirt's wrinkled sleeve. "He's comin' over here next month?"

"Fourth week, probably," she mumbled, dropping her gaze to her sneakers, not wanting to mull over her boyfriend again. She cleared her throat and got up. Back to business.  "Second verse?"

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Veronica got up from the lounger when she heard a guitar make a funny, distinct sound. She rushed outside of her hotel room, not minding that she was barefoot and merely an oversized shirt hid her underpants. The dim hallway of the hotel's fifth floor was soundless.

The hall was empty. It was past two in the morning. The third knock made Kyle open up; she went straight inside his room. Kyle rushed to the bathroom. His Riviera lay on the unmade bed. Score papers spread out all over the sheets. Only the night lamp by the window was left on. Guitar picks scattered on the floor, along with his leather jacket and some pens.

"Kyle," she called out. She trod around the mess to get to the bathroom. She found Kyle by the black-tiled sink. His back was to her, so she took a few steps forward. She leaned against the sink, while she watched him wash a cut on his thumb.

His wavy hair that reached his broad shoulders was all tousled. A pair of boxers and a shirt was all he had on. But she knew he wasn't turning in anytime soon. "Why're you still up?" he mumbled.

"You know I'm working on the last verse," she answered, muttering. Her feet curled against the cold floor as she took notice of his almost frantic mood; he was mopey again, and it had been going on for days now. She studied him for a moment, realizing later on that he'd never seemed this distressed.

They'd been writing and recording songs all throughout the six years they'd been in the band, and, despite them having encountered dozens of ills and setbacks along the way, he'd never had such a bad temper. It was bothering her more than his cut that was still bleeding.

Kyle turned off the faucet and tromped away from the sink, grumbling a swearword along the way. Before he could get any closer to the medicine cabinet, she'd already squeezed into the tight space between him and the cabinet. She grabbed the first aid kit. She took the gauze roll, tape, and the bottle of disinfectant out of the small transparent pouch.

She'd patched him up in a minute. He grunted when she intentionally squeezed his finger before heading out of the bathroom. She picked up his guitar and let him complain, telling her he wasn't anywhere near being finished. She next grabbed the stuff scattered on the thinly carpeted floor.

Vexed as well, Veronica tidied up the whole room while he watched. She stacked the score papers on the desk by the corner window, then faced him and propped a hand on her hip. "What?"

Kyle stood taciturnly by the corner, certain his scowl had deepened now. He was hoping she would understand how much he wanted her to admit to herself she knew the reason.

Just days ago, he'd surmised that they might take a good long break after the release of their new record — a thought he wasn't sure he preferred. He sighed, trying not to drown himself in his own mentations. They'd been together in the band for years now. She ought to have a clue or two.

"You can talk to me."

Kyle scoffed at her assurance and plunked himself on the bed, ignoring her.

It only annoyed her more. "What? I'm tired of guessing. You don't talk."

Still feeling useless and dysphoric, he chose to avert his eyes from her dagger-like stare. "Go to bed. S'almost morning."

Veronica stepped closer to where he sat. She hastily crossed her arms below her chest. "You can talk to me about it." She now stood before him. The yellowish lamplight cast a shadow on her figure.

"I'm fine. Shoo."

To keep herself from making a sound close to a shriek, she looked away and counted to five in her head. "You really won't tell me?"

"I know you know but you don't acknowledge it as it is so why should I bother?" Kyle squinted at her. He shook his head, got up to turn off his computer on the desk, then switched off the bathroom lights.

She watched him tread across the room with his distraught expression not changing at all. She glared at him as she tried to figure out why he was acting so odd. "I'm serious. What is it?" She paced around him, still barefoot.

He had his back to her again. He looked like he was ready to say goodnight and would probably just ignore her middle-of-the-night interrogation. "You're gonna say yes," Kyle replied. He walked past her to shut the door before they could rouse everybody on their floor. He retraced his steps. He was about to plod towards the hotel bed when she grabbed his forearm.

"What?"

"If he asks you to get married."

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