Tall and slim, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit and leather boots, he's handsome enough to startle me. Now, with his thick New Orleanian drawl, virtuosic piano chops, and dapper style, he has the kind of magnetic presence that turns heads and draws everyone in a room. Jon was gangly and awkward then, with a mouth full of braces and baggy, ill-fitting clothes, so shy he bordered on mute. The two of us go way back to band camp where we met as teenagers. When I arrive at the hotel, Jon is waiting in the lobby. At the last minute, I invite an old friend to join me, one who knew me long before my sickness. I fuss with my hair, trying to make it look a bit less post- chemo, more punk-pixie. I change out of my sweatpants and T-shirt and into a dress - a hip black dress with a high neckline that conceals my port. No part of me feels up to socializing, but I force myself to go anyway. A little less than a month after Will moves out, my friend Stacie, a singer, invites me to hear her perform at the swanky NoMad Hotel. I have no idea of what that entails, so I look to healthy peers for cues. I want so badly to be a normal twenty-six-year-old.
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