Take Flight

Over

You step into the building taking a big breath. Your heart pounds fast as you walk up the stairs. You always take the elevator, but today you want to take as much time as possible to get to your office. Each step seems heavier than the other, and you'd want one of them to bury yourself in the ground, so heavy you could not come back.

Too soon the door of your floor appears before you and it takes way to long for you to actually put a hand on the handle. You stand this ridiculous way for a while, a hand out on the knob, shaking to much and lacking the strength to press down and open the door. Your heart rate seems to be getting a while lit faster.

"Is it locked ?"

You jump. It's Timothy, one of your colleagues. He's the only one to ever use the stairs. Usually. He looks at you with a weird expression, one of his eyebrows raised, he looks a little worried. You take your hand off the knob the second he puts his on it and open the door in one brisk movement. The incomprehension grows on his face as he lets go of the handle and let you go in first. You look at him and smile nicely as a way to reassure him before walking away. You know he's still confused, but who wouldn't be, seeing a grown ass woman unable to open a door ?

The whole floor is awfully quiet. You made sure you got there early so as to meet the least amount of people on your way to your office, which obviously hasn't started that well. You're walking fast, yearning to be alone in your own little private place, locked up where nobody could find you. As soon as you close the door behind you, your heartbeat seems to slow down just a bit.

The quietness and peacefulness unfortunately don't last as you hear someone knocking just a couple minutes - or maybe hours, you could not tell - after you sit behind your desk. You heart rate spikes up again. The face you used to connect to fun and reassurance peaks in. She looks tough, tougher than you ever knew she could be. Her look is cold, her lips tightly pressed together. Suddenly she doesn't appear as beautiful as she used to to you.

She doesn't sit on the edge of your desk as she used to. She doesn't smile, laugh, her eyes don't sparkle as your gaze cross hers. She doesn't speak. She only stands in front of you, with that icy look on her face that's so unfamiliar to you however well you know her. You don't dare saying a word, and her look hurts almost more than her silence. Who would've thought so little could destroy what you thought to be such a solid friendship ?

"Boss wants your drafts today," she minces.

You almost jump when you hear her voice. It's curt, deprived of all warmness you know she has inside of her, and just of all feelings. If it hurt you to hear her tone change that day in your apartment, today is way worse. It's not the one you know. It's the voice of a stranger, and you want to scream when you hear it.

"You know I don't have them."

The last few weeks haven't been quite as successful in terms of work as they have in terms of love. Angelina had invaded your mind, and it was sucking all your inspiration. You hadn't succeeded to create one model that was decent enough for a first year student in graphic design. You had told Pricilla. You had told her. And she had told you not to worry, that you were the best out of all of them, and that the models you had given early would compense for the ones you couldn't even start.

"Not my problem."

It strikes you that obviously she wouldn't have just let it all go. She's getting revenge. There's no middle ground with her ; it's either she loves you, or then she hates you. You realize this instant that you fell in the wrong category, for whatever reason, however valid. You don't know what she did exactly, but what you do know is that making someone suffer is something Pricilla knows how to do better than anyone else. But how is it she hates you ? What this all worth hating you ?

"Priscilla..."

"No !" she cuts you off briskly, "Don't. I've been trying to save your ass for too long, but not anymore. You don't have them ? Damn well that'll only pay me more."

"What do you mean... Pri what is that I..."

"You're fired !"

You walk back as if he words had hit you.

"You're fired if you don't have anything."

You don't let your brain the time to process the information.

"Why are you doing this to me ? Priscilla why ? Because you caught me fucking the girl I love ? Would I fucking hate you if I saw you fuck a guy in your living room ? What's up with you ? Is it because she's famous ? Is it ? And even if it was for that reason, why would you hate me for it ? I don't understand you !"

"I don't fucking care if you don't understand me Y/N ! I don't !"

You step back again. You heart feels crunched in your chest.

"It just fucking hurts that you just didn't tell me shit about you. And then I try to help you so much but it's like you can't see it. We're like stranger, I mean you're like a stranger, I don't know anything about you, do you realize that ? It makes me feel like a bad friend because I can't do anything about something you don't talk about ! And I don't want to be around you because it hurts me so much, it hurts to care for someone who feels so distant, you hear that ? You fucking hurt me ! It hurts to love you ! And I can't move on if I don't hate you, you know ? If I wanna let go I have to change my feelings for you. Because I loved you. You were like a sister, really. So now look. Look what you make do. Look at how you make me behave. I fucking loved you and it lead me to so much hurt, so now guess what's left ? Fucking hate ! That's all that's left Y/N, because loving you fucking hurts. I hope you know that you'll be hurting her. You're gonna hurt her."

You can almost hear the broken pieces of you heart drop in your body.

"Now go. You don't have anything now, do you ? If you don't you're released. You can get your things and leave. No one's gonna save you now. It's over."

It's over. Over.