outgoing call to !

call ended 2:14 am

outgoing call to !

call ended 2:15 am

outgoing call to !

"mel, i really hope you're either bleeding out from a fatal wound or at least two thirds of uc berkeley has been burnt to the ground."

"jeez, that's what you're hoping for?

"also, you shouldn't joke about that. sajan says he has big plans for the summer. we're all hoping he means disneyland."

"well, you better have a good excuse for calling me when i explicitly said no phone calls for the next week. i'm sort of on my—put that down, seb—honeymoon right now."

". . . i know. and i wouldn't call unless i really needed your help."

"hang on, are you in some kind of trouble, mel? is this about your connection with the mafia?"

"oh my god, for the last time i don't have mafia connections. you get one set of ninja stars from a dude and everyone just assumes."

"seb, don't touch your bandage! the doctor said no touching."

"wait, is everything okay?"

"yeah, we were just water skiing and there was a small accident."

"june ran me over! on land! she defied physics just to concuss me!"

"shut up, seb! only one person was injured!"

"water skis only hold two people!"

"exactly. i saved half the crew."

"um, never mind. i can call back another time. i'll just. . . yeah."

"whoa, wait."

"mel, what's wrong with you? your voice sounds all weird and raspy. are you sick?"

"no, i'm fine. i've just been, um, crying a lot?"

"haha, okay. so is it strep throat?"

"no, june. i've—shit—"

"oh—oh my god, mel. are you actually crying?"

"no! no—i'm. . ."

". . . yes. i'm sorry."

"mel—"

"this was a mistake. i shouldn't have called. i just wanted to hear your voice."

"mel, don't you dare hang up."

"seb, i have to go. . . yes, just get out of here for a second and give us some privacy, you nosy bastard. just go! it's mel!"

". . . fine you can get shaved ice. here's five dollars. mhm. okay. bye, i love you!"

"okay, mel. tell me, are you pregnant?"

"what? no!"

"is this a drug thing? have you become addicted to doing cheez whippits? i saw that on tv once."

"june!"

"okay, sorry. so if you aren't knocked up or doing cheez whippits, then what's going on?"

". . ."

"i-i don't want to talk about this. i changed my mind. this was a bad idea."

"mel, i'm your best friend. whatever it is, you can tell me."

". . . it's tom."

"what, did you finally realize your undying love for him and now you're slowly pining away?"

". . ."

"no?"

"wait—you—i—you—"

"it's just—i saw him with nina, you know? like, once, when i was seven i hit my head on the edge of the pool. i was sinking to the bottom and i thought this is it. i might die now. and that's how i felt when i saw tom with nina."

"i need thirty seconds. just thirty seconds, and i'll be right back."

"um, okay?"

". . ."

"agh—ouch! jesus! june, you have to warn me before you scream like that!"

"sorry! sorry! it's just—holy shit, mel!"

". . . what? no i'm fine. yes, all my limbs are attached, seb. and also mel is in love with tom."

". . ."

"jesus! again with the screaming! not you too, seb!"

"did you hear that, karl? mel loves tom!"

"who the hell is karl?"

"oh, the room service guy."

"june!"

"okay, he's gone."

"tell karl i can hear him breathing in the background. he's a wheezer."

"shit, i forgot she's like a bat. she hears everything. karl, you have to go. we'll text you. don't forget our mini cheeseburgers."

"june. just—what am i supposed to do?"

"what do you mean? what's the problem? tom loves you, you love tom."

"the problem is i screwed up, june. i really screwed up."

"mel, are you—please don't cry. what happened?"

"we were dancing at the wedding and he tried to tell me something, and i-i just ran."

"what? why?"

"i just—god, june, i've never felt like that. i wanted to stay in that one moment for the rest of my life. i didn't ever want to have to return to a reality that didn't have him in it. it was terrifying."

"oh, mel."

"june, on a scale, how screwed am i?"

"oh, twelve, definitely."

"what? out of ten? that's not comforting at all!"

"t-twelve out of fifty! obviously. you're going to be just fine, mel."

"june, this was never part of the plan. h-he was never part of the plan."

"oh god, not the plan again. mel, with all due respect, fuck your plan. the plan is ruining your life and you're the only one who can't see it."

"no, no the plan—that is my life."

"what's the point of the plan, huh? what is it?"

"to. . . to be successful. to get a doctorate. to be a physicist."

"and then what? then what do you have when that's all over? which part of all this is going to make you happy?"

"june, this is my dream. tom, he's. . . he's another dream. he's a dream in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"no offense, but that's absolute bullshit."

"no, june. i've come too far to just be his girlfriend. i want people to remember me, but because of who i am, not what i am."

"who says you can't be remembered for both? i managed it. and mel, i'm so happy right now."

"i just want so badly for you to be happy too, after all these years."

"i-i want to be happy too."

"god, june, i want him."

"just tell him how you feel mel. just fuck the plan for once in your life and do something to make yourself truly happy."

". . . maybe."

"seb, shut up—wait what? elton john is eating fish tacos where?"

"go."

"what?"

"go, june. have fun and be in love. i'll figure it out."

"are you sure?"

"i'm sure. thank you, june."

"i love you, mel."

"i love you too."

"elton john, seb? really? eating fish tacos! do you think he'll sign my—"

call ended 3:12 am

when you forget you're trying to write a fluffy fic so you have to sprinkle in some mexican food and old british dudes at the end to lighten the mood. this chapter is ~garbage~ so everyone who votes is lying to me and pretending they liked it (don't stop tho. my ego needs it desperately)