RE Bunch

Social Phobias: The persistent fear of being watched and judged by others

Chase leaned back into the worn leather of his driver’s seat. He had the Buick off but the key in the ignition. He checked his phone and then back up through his windshield. The lights were still off in Apartment 205, curtains drawn shut. He opened the cracked screen of his phone to refresh the messages again. The screen spun for a moment before it loaded the same messages.

Chase chewed his upper lip as he glared back towards the apartment window. The sheer heathered curtains fluttered from the forced air vent above them. She still was not back yet. “What is her problem?” he muttered as he threw his phone down into the footwell of the passenger seat.

Chase leaned over to open the glove compartment. The dim light spilled across the crumpled papers and torn manual to reveal a Glock 26. He hunched back into the seat and wrung his hands. His heart buzzed in his ears as he looked over the black metal that reflected the glove box light.

“I love you so much, Tegan.” His eyes burned as he wiped away his tears. “I just want you to be happy.”

Chase loved visiting Tegan’s Tearoom. She owned a small café in town. The exotic smell of the different leaves wafted through the doorway every time a new person entered. The fresh air stirring the aromas higher up into the ceiling of the small store. Tegan’s bright smile invited you in and her green eyes held you there in her gaze. Her rich burnt umber curls tangled and pulled into a messy bun with a bright scarf tied in to keep it in place. Her caramel skin glowed in the early morning light, as she prepared a cup of tea for him. She took the time to explain the differences between newly imported blends to him in the morning. At least she used to.

Chase’s heart leapt for those memories. Clamoring to remember her as she was then. Her smile crowned with a golden side tooth. Her sweet voice and hardworking spirit captured him so completely. She was like a soft light dancing between the leaves. Something only a few people notice as an extraordinary light was at work. Tegan’s approval was worth more than his own life.

Chase offered to grab her food when she was too busy to leave her shop. He promoted her business endlessly, even more than his own craft. Chase’s own business as a contractor took a back seat to making sure Tegan was alright in hers. In November, the bitter cold winter air caused a pipe to burst in her building. It decimated her light oak herringbone floors and warped the cedar panels of her serving bar. The lacquer cracked and streaked up the sides of the dark red panels and pulled away from the granite countertops. The water pooled high up in her storage cellar, steeping casks and crates of imported leaves. Turning the water murky while staining up the concrete walls to muddied hickory. Tegan confided bitter tears to him that morning as she made the discovery.

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