@hyypnotix-writes - Tumblr Blog

~ howdy 🥹 - what with all the departures from Barcelona this summer and the controversial move to London City announced officially yesterday - I figured, if this is ever going to get posted ..it’s better done now rather than later ~

~ I dug up an old piece of writing that I did and tweaked around with it a little - it’s from around the same time I wrote the other story - so it would take some very heavy editing to make it more up to date ..almost all of the players who make appearances have abandoned ship now 😅 ~

~ (I also don’t even know if Nala’s still about and she featured pretty heavily so ..that could be troubling if not 🥹) ~

~ I don’t know if I’ll ever write something completely new for you guys - I don’t think I’d have the heart for it anymore, but I do still get people asking for a part 4 over 2 years on so 🥹 I’m hoping maybe this could go a little way in satisfying the followers I still have ~

~ there’s a few weird overlaps you’ll probably notice - I have never once worked in finance ☝🏻 I don’t know why I’ve made both of my characters do that! I don’t follow Alexia’s career or personal life at all - so I don’t know why she was my go to either ~

~ I’ve also never actually had a ‘nan’ ‘nanna’ ‘nana’ ‘nanny’ ..so if anyone could tell me the more popular one of those - I’ll correct it 😅 ~

~ I chickened out of posting this one at the time as Alexia truly does not make an appearance until the very end - and I didn’t think I’d be able to keep an audience interested for that long ~

~ I still might not be able to! and that’s okay too ~

~ it’s very choppy! especially this part ..and there’s a lot more backstory forced onto you initially so ..this might be really bad and could go tits up completely! ~

~ this is just a potential thing really ..and we’ll see what happens from there - there’s quite a few parts if any of you do show enough of an interest! they would just need a similar tweaking if we decide to see it through ~

~ I think it’s around 4k words so ..it’s quite short compared to the other ones! ~

~ anyway! as always - good luck! goodbye xx ~

________________

Part I

“Well,” you sigh in halfhearted triumph, collapsing in an exhausted heap next to your friend on the sofa, “I think that might finally be the last of them!” You smile to yourself and wait momentarily for some form of acknowledgment from her ..that never comes. You purposefully readjust yourself again, squinting at her, unimpressed by her severe lack of enthusiasm. “Thanks for all the help!” You prompt, with very minimally disguised sarcasm.

Ana had stopped helping you hours ago, opting instead, to set up your television and watch a fair few episodes of Friends, while you continued running around, opening every single box you so happened past, like an overly enthusiastic child on Christmas Day. The contents of which, now adorn your floor and countertops in a somewhat organised chaos.

“Oy? ¡Increíble!” Ana starts, quite indignant. “Without me, you’d be sat here right now, with no internet, no working tv and absolutely no food for the night so..” she tosses your phone over to you, “takeaway will be here in a few minutes.”

You catch it, chuckling.

“Right, ta! And I’m guessing that’ll be a pizza, will it? (Ana’s favourite takeaway) Paid for on my card? (Ana’s favourite bank account.)”

She holds her hands up dismissively and you grin back at her predictability, before gently smushing a cushion into her face.

You look around at your brand new apartment; completely cluttered, empty cardboard boxes piled high to the ceiling, scattered all over the place, barely any space to swing a cat at all - and you smile to yourself.

When you’d set off from London to travel around Europe a little over 4 months ago, you could never have imagined that this is where you’d currently find yourself — renting an apartment in Barcelona of all places, for you and your little brown dog, Trevor.

It’s so far outside of your comfort zone, entirely alien from anything you, or anyone you know, could have ever seen you actually doing, you’re quietly proud of yourself for choosing to be quite so adventurous.

You see, you are a decidedly simple person; very much a creature of habit. You do not stray from the beaten path, you’ve never once been tempted by the road less travelled by. You have lived your life entirely by the book, and doing so, has served you rather well.

Most of your early life was spent studying. Not because you particularly enjoyed academics, quite the opposite in fact. You struggled with a lot of subjects, English, the sciences, you hated learning French. One of the only subjects you could fully understand, without making any effort at all, was maths.

Something about numbers just naturally clicked for you, and so, very early on in your life, you decided that you wanted to be an accountant. It was a path you laid out for yourself, with great certainty, something your Nanna, in particular, was incredibly proud of you for pursuing. Your Nanna’s approval meant everything to you as a child, and so, you poured all of your time into achieving that goal, and frankly, very little else.

If something didn’t serve in getting you a place at university, you simply weren’t interested in it. It was admittedly very one-track minded of you, very tunnel visioned. It led to you dropping most of your extracurricular activities as soon as you secured your unconditional offer. Football, netball, piano, all hobbies that looked good on the application form, quickly became a thing of the past.

It was something your Nanna would often chastise you for, as you began doing less casual things. You were quite a creative soul when you were young. You’d always loved baking and cooking with your Nanna, she taught you how to draw, and to knit. She could turn her hand to just about anything, and she passed all of her wisdom onto you.

As the focus on your career began taking over your life, however, all other things quickly faded to the background. If you spent too long sketching, or doing sports, you wouldn’t have enough time to study, and if you didn’t study, you wouldn’t get the grades, and if you didn’t get those, you wouldn’t get into university, and without university, well, your entire life is a failure.

It’s a rather debilitating way of looking at things, a bit grim really, not that you fully realised it at the time. Your Nanna would often try to breakthrough to you, regularly saying, ‘don’t work so hard, you’ll forget to live.’ You’d nod it off, promise not to, and then you’d carry on in exactly the same vain as before.

You had a plan, and you couldn’t very well stray from it.

The importance of school was ingrained into you by your parents, from a very early age.

You lost most of your teenage years to your studies, having to work overtime on the subjects you didn’t have a knack for.

It paid off for you, eventually earning you a first class honours degree in accounting and finance from a highly distinguished university. Your brother, Sammy, and your Nanna celebrated your graduation with you, told you how proud they were, how all your hard work had finally paid off for you, and then you then moved to central London, to officially start the life you’d always dreamed of having.

You didn’t struggle in finding a job, and you were immediately very successful, climbing the career ladder pretty quickly to become a corporate investment manager. It wasn’t entirely the dream life you’d expected it to be, it was long hours and it was high pressure, but you made a lot of money, and you made your Nanna proud.

You had yourself a nice London flat, you had no partner or kids that needed paying for. All you had depending on you, was a tiny little dog, that the company would allow you to have in your private office while you worked, since you were ‘such a highly valued’ employee. All things considered, you were doing very well for yourself.

Things took a turn, then, on your 28th birthday, when you woke to a text message from your Father. It’s not entirely uncommon in most circumstances, but you hadn’t spoken to your Father since you had first gone to university.

You have a testing relationship with both of your parents, to say the very least, stemming from the fallout surrounding their divorce from each other back when you were 8. When you were finally free from having to live with your Mother at 18, all communication with both of them, quickly fizzled out.

So, receiving a notification from your Father at all, was a little out of the ordinary, but you just assumed he must have been reminded by your older brother, that it was your birthday, and he wanted to send you his well wishes for the day.

You hadn’t expected the message to actually be informing you that your beloved Nanna, had “regrettably passed away.’’

It was a careless message from him, one that lacked compassion. A message that was very obviously the product of your Father and his severe deficiency of delicacy and consideration, his inability to show any understanding of the pain his words would cause you. It was a message that slashed through you so completely, like a blade through paper.

The passing of your Nanna had a profound impact on you, the grief of it entirely too much for you to handle. It led to you nearly completely sabotaging the close relationship between you and your brother, you cut off all of your friends. You became, almost a recluse, trying to isolate yourself from a world you no longer wanted to be trapped in.

It took you 3 months, after the funeral to finally force yourself to even look at the things your Nanna had bequeathed to you.

There were lots of things to filter through, you were her ‘favourite grandchild’, after all. Something you’d always told her off for saying, threatening to let your brother and cousins know if she kept repeating it, she would just laugh, telling you, she’d already told them herself.

Among her belongings, you found a tiny jewellery box, one shaped like a piano with a little spinning ballerina in it. Inside the box, she left you all of her rings that she wore, and a fairly worn and crumpled £5 note. The same amount of money she’d always gift to you, every time you visited her, even when you became a ‘city bigwig, who probably has enough of her own money.’

She also left with it a very short and simple note, written in her comfortingly familiar penmanship, telling you something she’d already said to you many times before.

don’t work so hard, you’ll forget to live. x

Whether it was seeing it actually written down, or the sudden awareness that you’d never hear it said to you, in her voice, again, you can’t be sure, but for the first time ever, with tears in your eyes and a pain in your chest, you finally paid attention to what she had been asking of you for so many years.

For the very first time in your life, you abandoned your perfect little path. You stopped overthinking the consequences of your actions, and you began acting on impulse.

You handed in your 2 weeks notice the very next day. You bought yourself a retro VW camper, and you set off for Europe, planning to travel the entire continent for the year, crossing off every country as you went.

Plans, that weren’t particularly well thought out, and plans, that were very quickly derailed by the woman currently sitting next to you.

“This place really is a mess!” Ana laughs as the cushion falls from her face, bursting your bubble slightly while she fully takes in your surroundings. You’ve not known each other for too long really, but not even once in that brief time, has she ever taken up any opportunity to beat around the bush with you.

The apartment is looking a little worse for wear, it’s true. Empty boxes are stacked haphazardly up towards the ceiling as far as the eye can see, the contents of them strewn all over the floor and every other surface area of the living room and kitchen.

You’ve always been able to see potential in the most unassuming of things however, so your excitement isn’t entirely diminished by the mammoth task that awaits you.

“Well yeah, right now.. but once I tidy round, do a bit of decorating,” Your mind races with ideas for interior design. “It’s going to be perfect.”

You smile broadly, leaning against Ana as she welcomes you into her arms.

“I really am glad you’re staying, Y/N.” She whispers after a while, kissing the top of your head as Trevor jumps up into your lap.

“Yeah? ..I am too.”

It’s a while later in the evening when you manage to finish cleaning up the plates that you and Ana had shared your pizzas on. She made her excuses to go home about an hour ago, leaving you to collapse the seemingly never ending load of moving boxes by yourself, so you could start properly turning the shell of an apartment into a home.

It’s all too easy to lose track of how many boxes you must have broken down in that time, but Trevor lets out a small whine as you prepare to start flattening another, snapping you out of your autopilot.

You glance across to the small dog who sits, wiggling, staring up at the handle of your apartment door.

Shit!

You rush over, his tail wagging ever faster, the closer you get to him.

“I’m sorry, Trev.” You say, gently ruffling the fur on the top of his head, in apology for not remembering to take him out for his usual walk earlier. You check the time on your phone and let out a small groan ~21:09~

“It’ll have to just be a quick one tonight, bud!” You tell him, reaching for his harness and lead.

Thankfully, Trevor wastes no time in doing his business as soon as his paws touchdown outside. You’re honestly very tempted to just go straight back up to bed once you’ve finished clearing up after him but you don’t stand a chance at ignoring the pleading look in his big brown eyes.

You sigh in defeat, “Okay ..but we really can’t be too long - it’s late.”

Trevor pulls you along quite pleased with himself as the pair of you stroll down the quiet street together.

The street you now live on, is only home to a few old-timey stores. Secondhand shops decorate the sides of the road, a tiny food stall sits alone in the furthest corner from your apartment. There’s no activity, aside from you, whatsoever; every building on the street displaying the same exact sign for the night: ‘Cerrado.’

It’s a far cry away from the usual hustle and bustle of Barcelona, and a whole world away from the crowded London street that never sleeps, where you used to live.

That’s what attracted you to it, really. As much as you’ve always loved living in a big city where you can completely lose yourself in the seas of people entirely too caught up in their own busy lives to care about the existence of anyone else around them, there’s something about the simplicity of this street, the leisurely pace in which everyone goes about their day in. It calms you. It reminds you to take a step back, to enjoy where you are in the present moment. Every present moment.

The little local park that has become your go-to place for taking Trevor to, ever since you first came to Barcelona, is just down a small alleyway off of the street that you can now start calling home.

It’s not a hugely popular place, which suits you perfectly. Trevor’s easily spooked by other dogs, so it’s a relief to have a place where you can take him and pretty much guarantee he isn’t going to come across too many of them unexpectedly, especially at this late hour.

You walk across the almost entirely empty field, refusing to stray too far from the path as it’s the only area in the vicinity that is fully lit. You set Trevor free from his lead and settle down on the nearest bench as he goes off for another wee.

It’s a mild evening, there’s a light breeze that whistles around you through the park, made slightly chillier by the complete lack of other life around you. It’s nothing compared to a cold night back in England, but you are glad you grabbed your jacket before heading out.

Another wind hits you and you tug on your zip, lifting it up over your chin, shuffling on the bench a little in an attempt to keep yourself warm.

As Trevor heads back towards you after relieving himself and giving the place a good sniff, you take the tennis ball you keep in your jacket pocket and roll it out across the field for him. He takes off like a whippet to retrieve it for you, his clumsiness in full effect as he trips over where the ball has settled in the grass, before rolling over himself to collect it. You chuckle to yourself as he returns seconds later, dropping the ball at your feet, ready to go again.

You lose track of the time a little as you repeat the action over and over, aimlessly throwing the ball around for him to chase, trying not to launch it too far beyond the circle of light that the park lamp casts on the ground in front of you.

After one particularly sloppy throw from you into the bushes, however, Trevor rushes off into the darkness, and takes a little longer to come back.

You wait for a minute expecting his excitable return, and yet..

“Trevor?” You call out to him cautiously ..nothing.

You whistle out for him ..nothing.

You quickly turn on the torch of your phone, moving tentatively towards the bushes, and shake the small packet of treats you have on you to try to attract him back.

“Trevor..” you try again in a whispered shout, “Come on..” you tap your thigh and whistle for him another few times.

Before you can allow yourself to start panicking too much, the bush rustles a little in front of you. You approach it and squat down in relief ready to collect your dog into your arms, and maybe give him a small telling off, as he makes his exit from the shrubbery. Except..

..well, that’s just not your dog at all, is it?

A small pomeranian jostles towards you sniffing eagerly at the treats you’re holding out.

“Well, hello,” you chuckle softly, offering the dog a piece of meat which it happily wolfs down quickly, as you scratch the top of its head a little.

“I don’t suppose you saw a scruffy little terrier while you were in there, did you?”

The dog yaps and, as if on cue, Trevor jumps out of the same bush, ball in his mouth with his tail wagging frantically. He drops the tennis ball at your feet once more, and heads over to his newfound little friend. They both sit together, proudly staring up at you, completely unaware of any worry they’d just caused.

“Very adorable.” You mutter as you push yourself back up, straightening your legs.

You are a little pleased to see him sitting so closely with another dog, but you can’t help rolling your eyes at Trevor’s antics.

You lift your head from where the two dogs have rested themselves, and scan the park, your brow furrowing. “So ..where’s your owner, bud?”

You check for the time again, a frustrated sigh escaping from your mouth ~22:13~ a much longer ‘quick one’ than you had originally planned to go on.

Your eyes are heavy with sleep, and you panic a little as you try to work out what you should do. It’s incredibly dark out now and the park is entirely empty.

You look down at the two dogs lit up by your torchlight, snuggling down next to each other, entirely unbothered by the situation.

“Okay, okay..” you kneel down again in front of them trying to think logically.

“Well, there’s just no way a dog like you is a stray, is there?” You whisper to the smaller dog, and a tiny shimmer reflecting on the pomeranian’s chest confirms to you that it does, indeed, have a collar on. Offering out another treat to lure it closer to you, and throwing one across the grass for Trevor to stop him from trying to get involved, you take the small pendant in your hand and hold the torch over it.

“Ahh! Well there we are ..hello, Nala.” You greet her properly for the first time, and she gives you a quick lick to your face.

You flip the tag over in your fingers, revealing a phone number that you quickly dial in, lifting the pomeranian up under your arm and making your way back to the bench under the streetlight.

Trevor collects the tennis ball you’d neglected and eventually follows on behind you, once you slap your thigh a couple more times and whistle at him.

The phone only rings once before a woman answers the phone, her voice a little hoarse.

“..¿Hola?”

Damnit!

Your Spanish is poor, embarrassingly poor for someone deciding to set up shop here ..and of course this little dog is Spanish and would have a Spanish owner ..you’re in Spain! You absolute idiot!

“¡Hola!” You start, rather confidently you’d say, but that doesn’t last for long. “Uh ..um ..¿Inglés? ..hablar.. ¿Hablas? ..¿Hablas Inglés?” You grimace up at the sky in defeat, your eyes shutting tight as your limited language skills fail you, not for the first time, since being abroad. “..por favor.”

This poor poor woman - probably already worried sick about her missing dog, possibly running round like a maniac near you looking for her.

Or maybe having just got home, getting ready for bed after exhausting herself by looking for her dog for hours.

She could have already been in bed for all you know, finally managing to get some sleep after worrying for god knows how long. And now you’ve gone and woken her up again to remind her that her adorable little dog isn’t currently with her AND to make things even worse, she’s now having to deal with this useless Englishwoman stammering at her like a fool over the phone. And what if she doesn’t speak English? Huh? What then, you absol—

“Err yes ..I can speak English” she reassures you, quickly cutting off the lecturing voice inside your head.

“Oh, magic!” You exclaim, a little too enthusiastically, perhaps. “Sorry, uh - I’m in the park? Your dog, Nala? She’s with me. I don’t know if you’ve just left or if you’re still about, maybe?” Your eyes dart across the now vast expanse of empty darkness.

Yeah, she’s definitely not still here.

“You ..you found her?” There’s a small crack in her voice and your heart breaks a little at the sound.

“Yeah!” You breathe out, trying to sound calmer for her. “She’s completely fine! Or seems to be at least - it was my dog that found her really..” You trail off, giving Trevor a smile as he wags his tail in front of you. You settle Nala down on the ground next to him and they instantly cosy up together again. You let out a surprised chuckle at the sight. “I think they might quite like each other, actually.”

You catch the woman over the phone up on the entire situation as you continue watching them both together. There’s a small relieved sigh on the other end of the call, followed by what is easily identifiable as a long sniff from the end of an anguished sob.

“I’m happy to bring her to you if that’s easier than you coming back out!” You offer, but the voice merely mumbles negatively at the suggestion.

“I’m ..I’m not in Barcelona tonight” She eventually chokes out.

“Oh!” That does take you by surprise.

What does she mean she’s not here in Barcelona?

How could she not be here in Barcelona?

Her dog’s clearly here in Barcelona..

“Okay ..well, no worries..” you start, but you do worry actually, you worry quite a lot, and your mind begins to spiral slightly because,

Maybe this dog’s not okay after all. How long has she even been out here on her own?

What kind of owner loses her dog ..then buggers off out of the city without even bothering to find her first?

You’d never do that to Trevor!

You couldn’t even imagine doing that to him.

“I can take her back to mine?” You suggest, and you’re quite determined to do so, in fact. “When will you be back?”

You do hope you’re disguising your disgust for the woman better than you think you are. You’ve never been great at hiding your feelings, as many people have often let you know, but it must be undetectable through voice alone, as the woman quickly continues on.

“Really? Would that be okay? Are you sure? I’ll be back home early tomorrow morning!”

Her voice is light and full of relief, and you’d appreciate it if she didn’t sound quite so endearing over the phone.

..this woman abandoned her dog!

“Of course, perfect ..is your vet local? We could meet there so she can get checked over ..just in case?”

She gives you all the details for your meeting and you make a mental note, committing everything to memory. She thanks you again with a real sincerity and you smile a little, as her voice begins to sound increasingly more cheerful.

“Honestly it’s no problem ..she’s a really lovely little dog!”

Certainly not one that I’d have left alone ..in a park ..in a separate city ..indefinitely.

There’s a watery chuckle down the phone and you’re at a loss of what to say next. “So ..I guess, I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“¡Sí, you will! Gràcies, thank you ..again.”

“Really, it’s completely fine, you don’t need to worry at all. Good ni— shit!” You smack yourself upside your head with your free hand. “What an idiot, I’m so sorry! My name’s Y/N, by the way.”

Your clumsy apology earns you a genuine laugh and the sound forces you to smile despite yourself.

“Gràcies, Y/N. I’m Alexia.”

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs