Atlas

Twenty four

"I DONT KNOW DIMIA!" I cried in frustration.

"You have his keys, yeah. How about we mess up his apartment so bad he has to pay thousands-"

"We're not doing that." I cut her off.

I had just explained the story to Dimia. Vaguely, without getting into any details.

I sighed. I was so close to crying, I don't know how I was keeping it in for so long. It had been about four hours since Atlas had left. I didn't know what to do - truly did not even know what to think, so I came back my own apartment. I was just about to call my mom when Dimia called me and I had nearly broken down.

"What would you do if this was Reece?"

"Let hell loose on him." She snickered over FaceTime. "But babe, you're leaving tomorrow anyways. If you want, you can go over there and demand an explanation-"

"That actually doesn't seem like a bad idea."

"Stop cutting me off, or I will wring your neck when I see you." She smiled sweetly. "But yes, go see him if you think it's a good idea."

"Okay. Talk to you later. Sorry I did all this before your cousins wedding."

"You're fine, lovely. Go beat the crap out of him now."

She ended the call and I pressed my lips together anxiously. Was seeing him really a good idea?

I was extremely self-aware of the fact that whenever I was upset, I would try to make myself feel better instead of wallowing in the emotion for just a few hours. Emotions were meant to be felt, and sometimes, trying to fix the problem would only make it worse, but my mind didn't understand that.

I put on my shoes and tied my hair back in a ponytail, already regretting my decision.

But my feet took me out of my apartment and into the tram that would take me straight downtown.

The sun was already setting, and a gray hue had taken over the town. I didn't know whether I would be happier leaving.  I guess I didn't have much of a choice.

The bell chimed as I entered the bar. There were already a few people drinking and a group of 40 year olds dancing to old 80s music that burned my eardrums.

Phoebe was pouring whiskey into a glass at the bar, and Atlas was behind her, drying some wet shot glasses.

"Hey." I said weakly. He turned around and his eyes brows lifted a little in surprise. Phoebe flashed me a sweet smile before getting back to her customer.

"You're here to talk?" He put the shot glasses down.

The song had just ended and the men that looked like they were a part of the 60s Bikers Association all lined up for drinks.

One of them came up to me. "Fancy a drink, love?" He asked. I stepped back. Atlas's frown deepened but he didn't say anything.

Suddenly, I wasn't even anxious anymore. Now I was just mad.

The man proceeded to try and put his hand on my arm.

"Don't touch me!" I snatched my arm back.

I turned around. There was no way I was going to stay here. In three quick steps, I bolted out. I think I heard Atlas yell my name but I wasn't sure.

As I stepped outside, a car -and the correct word is WROOMED - straight into my direction. A strong hand grabbed onto my arm and pulled me back on the side of the road safely.

The nauseating scent of deja vu crawled up my stomach.

At this point, tears were beginning to pool in my eyes. My hands started shaking.