The Heart Fixers

{unraveled}

{Unraveled: Chapter One}

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LOVE AND HEARTBREAK, A THIN LINE- CHAPTER ONE: SUB-CHAPTER ONE

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There are many versions of heartbreak, I've heard it ranges from the Hate stage, to the Regret stage, and finally, to the Revenge stage.

I've heard sometimes it tears your soul apart, and sometimes you just feel numb, completely empty inside, alone, and incomplete. The same goes for love. I've heard many different versions of it; from the usual "it feels like the best feeling in the world, I'm flying everyday" to "it's not perfect, but it's worth it". I've never been in love, so honestly, I wouldn't know jacksquat.

What I do know, is that it doesn't look like sitting on your best friends dirty porch at 3 am on a Sunday, drinking, crying and singing "I'm not the only one" by Sam Smith. No, that is not love. That is love's equally painful, pre-mentioned counterpart. That is heartbreak.

"Sean, you need to pull yourself together," I said, hands on my hips as I stared at my mess of a best friend, crumpled on my front porch. His usually styled to perfection brown hair was in a mess that was no where near considered "artful" and his jeans had a rip I knew wasn't there when he bought it.

"Sean-get up!" I said as I pulled him to his feet. He stumbled up and leaned towards me to whisper something in my ear.

"Your twin sister is a bitch," he smiled, his breath reeking of alcohol.

I rolled my eyes.

What happened to Sean wasn't even a question. I didn't even have to ask. The moment I saw him in a heap at my front door I knew why Sienna hadn't been home for the past two days.

They had broken up. Again.

Sienna was, as I liked to call her; my twin bitch sister. She was insanely popular and as every cliche goes, she hated me. I wasn't her complete opposite as most books portray the whole twin sister thing, one of them ugly and friendless, one of them perfect and popular, and of course, in the book, the ugly sister ends up with the guy the perfect sister pines after.

I'm far from ugly. That might sound conceited, but I truly hate it when girls far from ugly call themselves ugly. Fake modesty is worse than no modesty.

The truth is, I'm not ugly, but I'm not a bombshell. I just happened to get only 75% of mum's perfect, model genes while Sienna got 100% of both mum and dad's Abercrombie and Fitch-model lookalike genes.

I was, the least to say, mortified to find out my sister and best friend were going out when I found out last summer.