hater ⇔ c.h.

four; this place i go

"And this is-oh, Tegan. You remember Tegan, right?"

I stood, arms crossed in my bedroom doorway. A surprise, she called it. This surprise of hers ruined my plans for the evening. Tori and her stupid house guests. Now I have to make sure they don't break anything.

"Yeah. Hey," Tommy said, flashing his pearly whites.

Tori had invited one of her coworkers to spend the night, claiming that his roommate was throwing a party he didn't want to attend.

I gave a small wave, examining the two of them closely.

"Tor, can I speak with you for a moment?"

Smiling at the very tall, tanned, attractive boy standing in our hallway, I dragged her into my bedroom. When the door clicked shut, I smacked her upside the head.

"Ow! What was that for?" she complained, rubbing the side of her head.

"You could've told me one of your models was coming over!"

She rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her hips.

"One, the people I work with are not models, they are actual people. Two, you're most definitely wearing clothes and your hair looks great. And three, why do you care?"

"Because I was planning on going out tonight," I said, dragging my words out and trying my best to put fury in the hushed voice.

Her eyes widened and she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, giving me a once over.

"You're going clubbing? In that?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" I squinted at her in my dimly lit room. The sun was already going down, sending colors of orange and pink through my open window.

"You're going clubbing without me!" she then slapped me upside the head. I guess I kind of had that coming.

"I'm not going clubbing, you idiot! I'm going to a concert!"

Her eyes widened even larger than before and she slapped me a second time.

"Even worse, you're going to a concert without me?"

"Ow! Stop hitting me!"

She began to pace the floor, mumbling to herself words I could not hear.

"Who's playing?"

"Marisa Marie!" I yelled in anger, sore from being hit in the head twice.

She then slapped me a third time, making me whine in annoyance, "Stop it!"

"She's the new client? You actually got to work with her! You spoke with the Marisa Marie?"

I couldn't understand why Tori was getting so worked up about this. It's just a concert and she's just a person, what's the big deal? I glanced around my room. Unmade bed, clothes scattering the floor, cluttered vanity; maybe I should just stay home. And the dishes. Yes, the dishes aren't done. And the bathroom could use some tidying. Marisa Marie can wait. I'll see her tomorrow, anyway.

"Yeah, she asked me to play for her tonight."

Before her hand could connect with the side of my head a fourth time, I grasped her wrist and gave a stern look, "No. More. Slapping."

"She asked you to play for her? What? The guitar?"

I nodded at her rushed words, no longer caring that Tommy might hear us. Tori was full on screaming by now, still pacing the floor.