Vincent Cooper
PRESENT (2024)
“You do learn things and one of them is that happiness has nothing to do with validation from other people, the important thing is being happy with yourself ... finding something that is important to you and sticking with it no matter what anyone says. The truth is you've got to really be tough because there are all kinds of forces that are always trying to get you to do things their way ... trying to tell you that you are throwing your life away if you don't follow their advice.”
Kurt Cobain
I left almost three months ago.
Two days ago was Steven’s birthday, and Nova told me they planned a small party for him at the bakery. I asked her to order, on my behalf, that limited-edition copy of the first volume ofOne Piece, and I hope he liked it.
Unfortunately, I can’t speak to him directly on the phone, nor to the others, unless Nova is with them.
My evenings allow for very little time: half an hour always goes to my parents, which leaves me an hour and a half for her—and for the brief chance to greet the others when they’re around.
My doctors and therapists are strict about this rule, and I respect it. It’s also the main reason I agreed to come to this retreat, this farm-like sanctuary: to focus on myself and to cut ties, for a while, with everything I’m not yet ready to face.
I know that when I return, the world will be waiting for me. Life will be waiting. The life I’ve always dreamed of, the life I thought was forever out of reach until just a few months ago. Ahead of me are two and a half months traveling across the United States with Emily Powell, and I’ve asked Max to play by my side. I could never begin this journey without him. We started together as rivals on the stage of an anonymous school in San Francisco, lugging instruments in his father’s van—and we’ll step onto every stage together.
When I return, a new me will be waiting.
She will be waiting. The love of my life.
And I don’t intend to lose her again. I don’t intend to hurt her again. I want to make her happy, the way she makes me happy.
Dr. Baker, the psychotherapist who’s following me, scheduled today’s session in the gym at seven in the morning, but that doesn’t unsettle me.
She’s a lively, eccentric woman. Our last session was on a hammock in the garden. The one before that was in the art studio, and later she had me baking cupcakes.
I step into the gym wearing the T-shirt and soccer pants she told me to bring.
I find her in the section with the gloves and punching bags. She’s in workout clothes too, her arms crossed and her eyes are fixed on me.
“Good morning,” I mutter, confused, stopping in front of her.
“Good morning, Vincent.” She smiles, handing me a pair of gloves. “Put them on.”
I arch an eyebrow but obey. “I don’t usually fight people, you know... I panic and start sneezing. It’s usually my girlfriend who throws herself into the fight.”
I laugh at the thought of Nova, remembering all the times she pulled pranks on our classmates to defend my honor. She’s the biggest girlboss in the universe—not just the city.
“I guess she’s a special girl, isn’t she?”
I smile faintly, staring at the floor. “She’s... everything. Have you ever not known how to describe someone? Every word feels too small for her. Her eyes... the way she laughs so hard she turns red as a tomato. Or the way she asks a thousand questions during a movie. She has no idea how brilliant she is. And she’s kind. Generous. Affectionate. Stubborn. Stubborn as a mule, always convinced she knows what everyone else is thinking before they say it. She wants the monopoly over the music we listen to. She drinks chocolate milk straight from the carton. She snores. God, she snores so loud. And she always steals all the blankets when we sleep. She’s hyperactive and, if she could, she’d adopt a llama or even a tarantula. And... she’s beautiful. So beautiful that my stomach knots every time she looks at me and smiles. And... yeah...”
Dr. Baker lays a hand on my shoulder, pulling me back to her. “And I’m certain she misses you too. I’m certain she wants you to take this opportunity for yourself.”
I sigh, folding my arms. “Why did you bring me here?”
“For this.” She points to a punching bag. A sheet of paper is taped to it.
I step closer to read it and I freeze.
Igor Bogdanov.
“What the hell is this supposed to mean? I thought this was a place where patients were cared for.”
I turn to leave, but Dr. Baker’s words halt me mid-step.
