Page 98 of Don't Leave Me

“For tonight! I don’t know. What’s today? It’s Saturday right? We were supposed to go to a karaoke bar downtown and he never fucking called,” she yelled out angrily, throwing clothes on her bed.

“It’s Sunday night, Em,” I said softly. “Technically, Monday morning,” I explained.

She looked at me with wide eyes.

“You’re a part of it too, aren’t you?” Emily pointed at me with wide eyes. “Who got to you? Was it that news van outside? ABC? CNN?” she asked suspiciously, still eyeing me. “Did my dad get to you too? They’re all trying to make me go away, send me back to Philly, make a mockery out of me!” she cried out, slumping down on the bed.

“No, Emily. No one is doing a story on you. Your dad is not here,” I tried to explain.

“You’re lying!” she screamed hysterically then bolted towards me. “Where’s your wire? Where are your mics?” she went on, grabbing my purse and throwing its contents on the bed, then lifting up my shirt over my head.

I was floored – I pulled my shirt back down and looked at her with wide eyes, totally bewildered.

“Hana?” she asked with wide eyes, her tone sad and completely changed.

I shook my head at her, almost scared. I had never seen her this way. I didn’t know what to do.

“Hana, I need help,” she cried, slumping down on the bed and crying hysterically into her hands.

I sat down on the bed next to her and put my hand on her thigh. “I’ll get you help, Em. It’s okay,” I said softly.

Once I helped Emily calm down a little bit, I called Michael and asked for his help. He came right over and knew exactly what to do; he called a few hospitals in the area, and the psychiatric unit nearby was able to admit her. I helped Emily pack a little bag and told her we were going to go get help. An hour and a cab ride later, Emily and I were walking into the hospital hand in hand and she was lucid enough to know where we were, but to my surprise, she didn’t fight it. She willingly went with the nurse that guided her in and assured me she would call me soon.

It was 5 AM when I walked out of the hospital where Michael waited for me; he hailed a cab and I slept on his shoulder all the way back down to our apartment.

Apparently, Michael let me sleep in and take the day off: I woke up at 10 AM with a note on his pillow that read: “Went to work. Take it easy today and have fun with your photoshoot. PS I love you. PPS Take your meds! – Michael.”

I smiled and turned to my phone, my mind instantly on Emily but I suddenly remembered I had a photoshoot with Jessica and she would be at the apartment at 11 AM. I hurriedly got up, took a shower, and started to get ready; I put up a backdrop up behind the couch and put up a few lights, setting up Michael’s expensive Canon that he briefly showed me how to work. And at approximately 11 AM, there was knocking on the door; I hurriedly skipped my way towards it.

“Hi!” I greeted her, eyeing her impeccable style in her black jeans and a fluffy grey coat, her blonde hair curled and her face still as gorgeous as I remembered.

“Hi Hana!” she smiled, leaning in to give me a quick hug. “How did you like the show?”

“Come in,” I guided her in. “I loved it! You were amazing,” I exclaimed with a big smile, my eyes wide.

“Aw,” she put her hand to her chest. “Thank you, you’re sweet,” she said genuinely.

“Would you like anything to drink? Water, tea, coffee?” I rested my hands on the kitchen counter.

“No thank you, love, I’m fine,” she smiled, putting her purse down.

I watched as she looked around the apartment and I could see strikingly similar features between her and Jack: their lips, their noses, their adorable dimples.Maybe that’s why I thought she was so beautiful.

“I just thought we could do some portraits, nothing too complicated,” I shrugged, guiding her to sit on the couch.

“Oh, lovely!” she smiled, quickly sitting down and making herself comfortable.

“Alright…” I picked up the camera, fidgeting with it, struggling to even turn it on: picture-taking was not my top artistic medium, and I wasn’t sure why I even suggested taking pictures in the first place – I think I just wanted the opportunity to stare at Jessica without being creepy.

“Your hair looks really cute,” I nodded, the camera finally turning on.

“Thank you,” she turned her head with a knowing gaze. “It’s nice to have it down once in a while,” she went on.

“So…just be natural. You can smile, you can look wherever you want, just,” I shrugged. “Whatever you want,” I smiled, putting the lens up to my eye.

“Sounds easy enough,” she giggled, putting her hands in front of her and slouching down a little, looking at me with a hint of a smile, and then I took the first photo.

“So, do you live in Manhattan?” I asked, making small talk as I continued to shoot.

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