The Emancipation of a Fuckboy [BxB] √

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Dominic

I became numb instantaneously. The written words in front of my sight seemed to have googly eyes and maniac smiles and they are more than ready to make fun of me. I'm not even hallucinating but they were all mad laughing at me. I quickly returned the piece of paper to where I picked them up and covered it with Valentine's suit. I had to take a moment to pinch myself in order to make sure that I'm not having a nightmare. Unfortunately, it turns out everything's real. It was all fucking real. I couldn't think straight, I feel like my tongue just got tangled and I ended up grabbing my phone and wallet before eventually storming out of the room without even looking back. And what's the point of looking back when everything just became blurry and painful on so many levels? I picked up my pace faster and quickly found myself out of the house before eventually walking to who knows where. I don't have any idea where to go or what to do. I guess getting out of that place was the first thing that came through my mind and I'm not even sure if it's the right thing to do.

Just when I thought I've already had the twist of my day comes this sicker and even sharper curve of events.

"How to Destroy a Fuckboy"

Those words were stuck inside my head like a strong perfume that won't fade. There's a lot of questions floating inside my head like how did that list got into his hand or is he planning on doing the same thing to me. I thought that cursed list was gone the day I destroyed Valentine's heart but clearly I am mistaken. I stopped walking after five minutes and finally looked back only to realize that I was already far away from the house. At this point, I don't know what to do, where else to go, or even who else to call. I guess I'd rather hurt than go back inside and slap the hell out of Valentine's sleeping ass.

I ended up booking a taxi and after waiting for another five minutes, the car finally showed up.

"Good evening sir. Where's your destination?" The driver asked as soon as I got inside.

"I don't know," I spat as I began to lose a sense of reality.

"Are you okay?" He asked looking at me from the rear-view mirror.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied blandly.

"Good. But where are you heading to?" He inquired politely rephrasing the first question that he just asked.

"Oh, sorry, sorry. I'm just thinking about this other thing." I uttered. "Uhm, can you take me to the nearest bar please!" I said and the driver nodded.

The drive was almost thirty minutes long but I feel like I've been sitting in the backseat of this taxi for over a year. I liked it though. There's something about just plainly sitting here, quietly staring outside the window and silently feeling the pang of the confusing pain. Leaning my head against the window and staring outside appeared to be a normal thing to do for a hurting person but there seemed to be an unwanted commotion going on inside my head and there's not one single thought that I could focus on because everything just keeps on popping off one after the other. The driver had to get my attention several times before I even realize that we've finally arrived at the nearest bar. Thankfully, the hard-working guy possesses a thick skin of patience that he didn't have to shout or even get angry at me just to get my full attention. I paid the driver and gave him a generous tip for the trouble before stepping out of his car.

The night felt expectedly cold and if this was a normal night then I'd be shivering to my death. I turned around just after the taxi left to see a huge sign. "Cowboy's Town," The sign said, designed with a cowboy silhouette, and from the looks of its façade, the theme inside seems to be honky-tonk. I took a heavy sigh and with a pained heart, I staggered inside.