I had listened to Hannah and jumped in a taxi all the way back to my family's neighbourhood in Newcrest. Cannon lived in a flat/apartment which he rented with a friend.
Cannon's roommate, for some bizarre reason, always leaves a guitar outside of the door. In all honesty, the apartments are surrounded by a large, locked gate, so the only people who can access the guitar are the residents. Cannon and I used to sit on the balcony with the guitar on the weekends. He would play songs, and we'd sing along together, reminiscing about old times.
I had knocked several times and no-one seemed to be in. This really annoyed me. Was Cannon in there, but just ignoring me? All I wanted to do was speak to him, and perhaps apologise for throwing a drink on him. I looked like an idiot stood here, knocking on a door, when no-one may have been in.
I decided to call Cannon, but his phone was turned off, it was going straight to voicemail. So...I decided to call his roommate to see if he was with Cannon. The roommate sounded like he was in a cafe.
Roommate: "Hello?"
Audrey: "Hey, it's Audrey, is Cannon with you?"
Roommate: "Oh...uh, hi Audrey. No he's not with me."
Audrey: "Do you know where he is?"
Roommate: "Yeah he's on his way to Veronaville. He's been packed to go all week, you didn't know?"
Audrey: "What the heck are you on about? Veronaville?"
Roommate: "Audrey? You're not joking right? You really had no idea?"
Audrey: "I was just speaking with him...we had an arguement and...and...he mentioned something about a photography career he wanted to pursue but..."
Roommate: "Veronaville has a college which holds photography courses, he signed up for it a while ago. You...honestly didn't know?"
Audrey: "NO! Not until today!"
Roommate: "Jeez...that's harsh. But in all seriousness, I saw he had a backpack with him this morning, haven't seen him since. He probably didn't even come home, he may have jumped on the first train to Veronaville. Lord knows where he would be now."
Audrey: "Well...thanks anyway."
I sat on the bench outside his apartment and tried to control my breathing. My heart had split in two, but I was just so...angry! How dare he just pack up and leave, without even telling me! I was convinced we could've worked something out, but I think he's just given up.
I took a deep breath and walked away from the apartment. If he's found someone else then...I just want him to be happy. Even though I wanted that someone to be me.
I came home and did some yoga. It's one of the ways which relaxes me quickly. My wellness skill was getting pretty good, so yoga seemed more and more easier every time I did it.
MEANWHILE...at the Bjergsen household...Elsa: "Daddy, can I ask you something?"
Bjorn: "Yeah, of course, darling."
Elsa: "Sofia was being mean to me earlier, she said I look stupid in these pyjamas."
Bjorn: "Just ignore her, Elsa."
Elsa: "But I'm tired of her being mean, Daddy. Does your girl friend have a sister?"
Bjorn: "What?"
Elsa: "Does your girl friend have a sister? Is she mean like Sofia?"
Bjorn: "Who are you on about?"
Elsa: "I sometimes see you with a pretty girl with red hair. Mummy took me to the park and we walked past your pub and I looked in the big window and I saw you and the girl playing darts."
Bjorn: "But she's not my girlfriend, Elsa, don't be saying things like that now."
Elsa: "But, Daddy! She's a girl and she's your friend!"
Bjorn: "Don't be cheeky, Elsa! Saying things like that can get Daddy into a lot of trouble with Mummy!"
Elsa: "Why...would Mummy be mad?"
Bjorn: "The red-haired girl is
only my friend, when you get older you'll understand why it might sometimes be difficult or hard to understand why adults have friends who are of the opposite sex. So Mummy might not understand, and get upset."
Elsa: "Haha, you said a naughty word! Sex!"
Bjorn: "Elsa! What did I just say?"
Elsa: "Sorry, Daddy."
Bjorn: "Some things shouldn't be repeated, Elsa. Especially rude words."
Elsa: "But how come you're allowed?"
Bjorn: "Because I'm an adult."
Elsa: "That's not fair."
Bjorn: "I love Mummy very, very much, okay? If you repeat anything, it can get Daddy into a lot of trouble, as I've just explained."
Elsa: "Sorry Daddy, I just thought her hair was pretty."
Bjorn: "Don't worry, sweetheart. It's past your bedtime, so I think you had better go to bed."
Elsa had made her way to her room, and Bjorn entered the kitchen in order to do some late night cooking. He was making a romantic meal for himself and his wife, Clara.
Bjorn was making his speciality, Chili! He was thinking about the romantic evening he was about to have. Perhaps him and his wife should stargaze after the meal? Maybe he'll suggest going to that fancy bar that's just opened in town? Maybe they can take a stroll through Windenburg town centre past the water fountains, and watch the boats on the water at sunset? Ideas were rollings around in his head, and he suddenly felt his wife come up beside him.
Clara: "Bjorn?"
Bjorn: "Yes, my love?"
Clara: "It's time."
Bjorn dropped his wooden spoon, and it clanged against the metal pot. He gazed at his wife.
Bjorn: "You mean?"
Clara: "Yes, I bought another test today."
Bjorn: "Really?"
Clara: "Yes, Bjorn. Number thirteen. Lucky number thirteen perhaps?"
Bjorn: "We can only hope so...how are you feeling? Do you feel...pregnant?"
Clara: "It's hard to tell, I'm a little nervous. We've been disappointed so many times before."
Bjorn: "Are you going to test...now?"
Clara: "Yes, wish me luck!"
Bjorn gave his wife a kiss on the cheek.
Bjorn: "Good luck, my love."
Clara entered the bathroom and got the pregnancy test ready. She had "used" the test, and set it down on the side of the sink. She watched, and watched as the test line slowly faded into existence. Clara was waiting for the positive line. She waited...and waited...and waited. Ten minutes passed, and no matter how much she held it up to the light, there was nothing. Nothing at all.
Her expression changed, and she called Bjorn into the bathroom. She threw the test into the bin. Bjorn came in, he looked really nervous.
Bjorn: "So...what is it?"
A glimmer of hope shined in his eyes, even though his hands were shaking from anticipation.
Clara burst into uncontrollable sobs. Bjorn stood there, unsure on what to say this time. This was the thirteenth negative test in a row, and usually he would say "We'll try again" or "It'll happen next time", but they both knew deep down that they were getting too old, and too tired to keep trying as often as they used to. They were both in their late-thirties and time was running out.
