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The worst part about it all was realising that I was lost.

I'd never in my life, gone a whole week without talking to anyone. Sure, I sometimes physically isolated myself and took social media breaks but never had I spent this much time with myself. I'd been out of touch, out of sync and out of place the entire time I was here.

I mean I could've always texted my friends in the middle but like an absolute moron, I'd given my phone to Stan, telling him that if I was taking this 'soul searching' trip, I should do it without a phone.

He was pleased.

But the result of Edvin Ryding spending time with Edvin Ryding had not exactly been emotionally fulfilling.

I mean, the dart landed on Limerick.

Limerick! The name of the place was Limerick! It was like the universe was dead set on making a joke out of my life.

My whole trip was spent going to art galleries, monuments and museums and walking down the mostly empty, serene streets because that was all there was to Limerick. Now, on a general occasion I would've had fun but when you're in all these artistically rich places alone, it makes you think. And thinking eventually leads to overthinking, which leads to me unlocking all of my past trauma.

So, to sum it up, the week had been crap.

And the only thing I was looking forward to, was the return trip home. I wanted to retrieve my phone from Stan and go spend Christmas with my family— the whole lot of them. I just wanted to go home.

And when the day finally arrived, where I could take myself out of my misery, a fucking snow storm happened. A snow storm that hasn't hit this place in hundreds of years.

Isn't that just kick-you-in-the-crotch great?

I'd waken up this morning and readied myself, feeling exceptionally happy. I'd packed my suitcase, checked my passport and flight ticket, made sure I kept that bag of souvenirs that I had to give to my mom because she just had a thing for souvenirs.

I'd done all of it.

And then when I go down to check out and get a taxi, the receptionist gives me a sorry look and says, "Sir, all flights are cancelled for the next week."

I wanted to rip someone's head out.

But then, I channelised my sadness into determination and asked them if there was somewhere I could find a temporary phone. They directed me to an electronics shop a few meters away and after walking through all the snow, it turned out they didn't really sell phones? Just phone accessories.

I think the shopkeer could tell that I was about to cry so he went back into some room and came to me with a box, "Listen kid, here's an old cellphone of mine, it already has a SIM. I can rent it to ya for a few days. Or you can buy it, but that's all I got."

I looked down at the box and it turned out to be a flip phone. You know, the ones where you have to press a button three times to get the letter 'c'?

Then when I opened it, it turned out to be pink and glittery. I mean, okay, nothing wrong with pink but why the hell did it have glitter on it?

I was an 18 year old boy, not a Japanese school girl.

Nevertheless, beggars can't be choosers.

I handed him some cash and got out, desperately searching for a place I could just sit and make calls. I didn't want to go back to the hotel because the non-homey, businesslike feel of the place was getting extremely suffocating.

Fortunately, I spotted this board for a coffeeshop called Sal's a few meters down. I found a snow-shoved path and decided to walk on it as I made my way towards the place, hoping that it was open.

Whilst walking I tried recalling all the numbers I'd ever learnt in my life, which were probably a lot. But at that moment, I could only remember three.

My own.

My mum's.

And my co-star, Omar's.

The first number I called was my own, just in case Stan picked up, I could unleash my anger onto him. It was his fault, this whole thing.

But my phone was switched off. Which made sense. Damn Stan for respecting my privacy.

Then I called my mum, whose number I had learnt, ever since I could learn. I mean, every kid knows their mom's number, it was how you called your friends when you weren't old enough to have a phone. Oh, and that speech of 'what to do when you get lost or kidnapped'.

But then, my mum's number was busy.

Of course, she had a better social life than mine.

Then finally I reached Sal's and decided to dial Omar before going inside.

Omar was, after Stan, the best friend I had and frankly, sometimes I felt like he got me better than Stan. Omar knew what it was like to go through what I was going through, even if he had sort of become an expert at it. He'd been handling fame way longer than I had.

We were costars, and we played onscreen lovers which was mega awkward for me at first because that was the first time I'd kissed a boy but he made it feel so comfortable and safe throughout. He was just the kind of person who tried putting everyone around him at ease.

I remembered his number because he'd made me learn it, giving me the same 'getting lost or kidnapped' speech as my mom. I'm not even talking about it.

And thankfully, he picked up.

"Hullo?" came his voice.

"Omar, it's me!" I said, sighing in relief.

"Edvin? Oh my god. Hey, what's up? How are you? Why haven't you been active? How was the trip? When are you coming back? Do you need a ride back? I'll drive, I don't mind."

He shot out so many questions that I got startled but then I remembered that being sort of hyperactive was his personality trait. Shaking my head, glad to hear his voice, I said, "Do you want good news or bad news?"

"Uh-oh, there's never a right answer. Um, give me the bad news first. So, that I can hear the good and cope accordingly."

"Well, the bad news is I'm stuck in Limerick until the new year."

There was a pause.

"What?! You can't be stuck. How can you be stuck? Tell me this is a joke. Your birthday is in 2 days! Christmas is in 6 days! Tell me you're joking."

I groaned, "I wish I was. I can't even tell you about the week I've had. I genuinely might cry. All the flights have gotten cancelled and I won't get a flight back till next week, and I've seen the schedule for next week, either I reschedule my flight on 25th or 3rd. So, I don't know."

"Dude, try and find other ways."

"I can't believe this is happening!" I kind of screamed.

"Woah, angry Edvin," Omar mocked, "A rare specimen of a ridiculously complicated boy."

"Shut up," I grumbled.

"What's the good news?"

"Nothing more could possibly go wrong."

He scoffed, "That's fucking depressing."

"I'm really ticked off right now, like at life in general, I can't exactly cater to matching your overly happy energy."

"Why did you even take this trip?" he then asked, a little annoyance coming in his tone, "You hate being alone! You need people around you to function properly!"

"I don't fucking know, okay?" I yelled into the phone, "I'm fucking upset and angry and lost and I just want to come back home. I want to forget that I ever took this trip! I've been fucking miserable the entire week. I've worked my ass off this whole year and I'm spending the only time I have off, getting more stressed."

He sighed deeply, "Listen, Edvin. Just..... I don't fucking know. Have you told anyone but me?"

"You would be the first person."

"How nice. Now, listen, um..... I don't know what to say, actually. Where the fuck did you get this trip idea from anyway?"

I clutched my hair and pushed them back, "Stan asked me to go on this trip. Solo trips can be cathartic apparently."

"Sure, solo trips give people psychological relief but that depends person to person. You're not a 'let's go on a trip alone and explore the world' kind of person," Omar grumbled, "And Stan is the real life Michael Kelso."

I let out an unamused laugh, "I'm gonna grill him once I get back."

Omar hummed, "Let me brainstorm.... there has to be someway.... like okay, have you checked the other airports in the country? Like you know, take a car to Dublin or something, they might have flights?"

"Already considered it," I grumbled, "Like you don't get it, Omar! I'm stuck! I'm fucking stuck."

"Alright, jeez. Um, so no way?"

"Nada."

"Joder esto.... um, just, tell me about your week? How is the place?"

"Pretty. Nice. Small. The people didn't exactly recognise me."

"Define 'exactly recognise'."

My cheeks heated up, "They just kept on mistaking me for someone else."

Omar's tone hinted amusement, "Here comes funny."

I scowled, "Apparently some guy who looks like me starred in a pedigree commercial and the people here keep on asking me to sign their dog's collars."

There was a pause. And then Omar burst out into laughter. And he didn't stop for a whole minute.

Then finally, "Oh my god! That's great! Pedigree out of all things... Hahahaha, please, find the commercial, I want to see who this guy is."

"I'm not finding the stupid commercial! This isn't funny."

"You're right. I'm sorry," Omar said, clearly holding back another laugh, "Did you do anything fun this week? Anything that didn't completely suck?"

Just then the door of the café opened with a jingle and a pretty blonde came out, weirdly side-eyeing me, I just ignored that and spoke back into the phone, suddenly feeling as though I was being overheard, "Nej, inte riktigt, jag menar, jag besökte några museer som var trevliga and uh, the people were also nice," I ended as the girl went a little out of sight.

"Ah, okay," Omar said, as though deeply contemplating something, "Wait! Edvin! Why didn't you call me from your phone?"

"I gave it to Stan before the trip."

"You're stupid. Anyway, how are you calling me?"

"Just a flip phone."

"A what?"

"A FLIP PHONE."

"Hello? Edvin? Your voice is getting cut."

"Omar, can you hear me? Hello?"

"Barely."

I groaned, "Shall I call you in a while then?"

"What?"

"SHALL I CALL YOU IN A WHILE, THEN?"

"Ohh, yeah. Okay, take care and just, don't be sad. Make the best of it, okay? And stay calm. We don't need those panic attacks coming back."

I pushed my hair back, suddenly realising how fucking cold it was outside, "Yeah, no. I will. Call you later."

"Your voice is still getting cut but I'm gonna call you later! Call you mom once, okay bye!"

And with that, he cut the call.

I sighed and shoved the pink phone into the pocket of my jacket and decided that I needed a hot chocolate.

I pushed opened the door to Sal's and the warm air inside made me hastily shut the door. The whole place was empty. The walls were a light yellow and there were plants hanging around everywhere, the floor was marble and the tables round. There was a fireplace with plants and a few books on top of it. It was pleasant.

The only person inside was this girl. She had her black hair tied up messily into a bun, her fingers were clad with a whole bunch of silver rings and she was wearing a white Rolling Stones hoodie.

I gave her an acknowledging smile, "Hey."

Her eyes kind of widened when she saw me and said into the phone, "Hey, Cass? I have a customer, I'll call you back..... love you too, bye."

Then she gave me a grin, "Hey, welcome to Sal's, what can I get ya?"

Her accent was definitely not local. It seemed kind of American.

I took off my jacket and placed it on the back post of a counter chair, sliding myself onto it, "A hot chocolate would be nice."

"Good choice," she said seriously with a nod, "And I would totally recommend taking a croissant with it, they're good.... I think. I haven't ever had one. I'm just supposed to say this so that you buy more stuff."

I let out a polite chuckle, "Sure, I'll have a croissant."

She smiled and curiously looked me up and down, "You're not from around here."

"No," I agreed.

"You seem kinda upset."

Good observation skills.

"I kind of am."

She nodded again, "Then I'll throw in a couple of marshmallows for free, they always make me feel so much better."

I smiled a little, "That would be great."

She then got to work, slowly bobbing along to the soft song playing in the background. I just sat and observed her, dancing and humming, stirring and mixing.

It was nice.

Then after five minutes of what seemed like intense concentration, she placed the cup of hot chocolate in front of me proudly. I looked at it. It was a smilie face. Made of marshmallows. Which were slowly slipping away from each other. Because that's how liquid works.

"What do you think?" she asked, picking out a croissant from the display shelf and putting it on the a tray in front of me.

"I appreciate the effort but frankly, it's the ugliest fucking smilie I've ever seen."

What? I was still in a bad mood.

Her eyes widened at that and then, without missing a beat, she smirked, "Well, now something about it matches your sunny persona."

And then I couldn't help it, for the first time in a week, I laughed.

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