Hello Young Lover

2:00 A.M.

Y/N woke up in the middle of the night, and groggily turned to look at the clock in her room. 2:00 a.m. Looking next to her, she saw that her mother's bed was empty, but heard that the mini party between her aunt and mother was still continuing on the porch downstairs.

She quickly became aware of the sand paper feeling in her mouth, and her dry parched throat, amplified by the summer heat. Quietly, she got up from bed, and made her way to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Sneaking down the creaky stairs, she tried her best to stay silent as to not wake Two or Tara. Then as she reached the kitchen, the drunken slurring conversation between the two women became clear.

"And you know, it was, it was hard to see," Marie slurred, clearly drunk, "yknow, you marry a man, you make him breakfast, lunch and dinner, you raise his kid, you clean his messes, and you go to all his company parties with him," she hiccuped, "and then, you come home one day, and you see a pair of heels at the door. Now, they aren't your heels. So you start walking, quietly, and you don't assume the worst, maybe his mother's over, or it's something with work or whatever the hell," her voice began to shake, "and then you see more clothes on the floor. And you look in your living room, and you see the same whore 20 year old secretary that you shook hands with at all those fuckin' work parties, on your husband."

"Fuckin' tramp," May said dryly, taking a drag from her cigarette.

"Then when you kick them out, you expect him to come back crying, begging," Marie spoke carefully, staring out onto the empty road, "nope. He sends his lawyer over, to tell you to move out, because the house is purchased under his name. It's his house. He also sends over divorce papers. In the mail. Sends them like they're fucking Christmas cards. Doesn't talk to you, or your kid. So what do you do then?" Marie turns to her sister, "you sign the papers, move out and take the kid to Oklahoma to live with your sister," she says bitterly as she lights another cigarette.

Y/Ns head was spinning. She knew her father cheated on her mother. She knew that. Her mother told her. But she didn't know all of it. The divorce papers, the home, why they had to move, about how he was having an affair in their living room. She also didn't want to see her mother like this. She didn't want to see a hard, bitter woman, hellbent on her husbands mistress. Reliving it everyday, and coping with alcohol and cigarettes. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed the cheap woman, singing to Lesley Gore, the woman that lied to her and told her everything would be okay.

She wanted to be lied to. Because as much as she hated to admit it, she would rather have the polished fake mother, than the slurring vengeful real one.

Y/N put her glass down, and went upstairs quietly. It took her long to fall asleep that night. This time, it didn't have anything to do with getting used to her new bed.