Monster (Vincent x Reader)

Left Alone

Chapter Twenty-Seven

11 days later. . .

[ vincent's pov ]

Ring, ring... Ring, ring...

"Hey, it's (y/n), sing your song at the beep."

Click!

I placed my face in my palms and groan. "(Y/n), please..."

I dial her number again, and after four rings, it goes to voicemail.

Then an idea pops up.

"James!" I said, pounding on his door. I hear muffled protests and shuffling as the door opens.
"What the hell do you want...?" He said, leaning on the door.
"Give me your phone."
"What the hell? No."
"Give it," I extended my hand towards him.
"What for?"
"I need to call (Y/n)."
"Her? No way!"
"Excuse me? Why not?" I said through gritted teeth.
"She's . . ." he didn't bother finishing his sentence before shutting her door and locking it.
"JaaAAMES!" I whined, banging on the door.

Maybe Fritz left his phone...

I crashed Fritz's door down (not literally, of course) and searched his room, until I found the familiar green iPhone case under a pile of Playboy magazines. Typical Fritz.

I then scooped his phone out and realized...

There's a goddamn password.

"Oh for crying out loud!" I groaned, guessing 1234, which it was.

Like I said, typical Fritz.

Opening the Phone app, I dialled (Y/n)'s number.

One ring...

"C'mon, c'mon, pick up!"

Two rings...

"(Y/n). . ."

Three rings...

"Hello?" A voice said.
It wasn't (Y/n)'s, but it wasn't female either.
"H-hey? Who is this?"
"You're the one who called this number, punk. Who the hell are you?"
"What? I'm... I'm Vincent."

I soon hear indistinct whispering. "Sorry, she ain't here."
"Yeah. She is. Let me talk to her."
"Sorry, man."
"Kay, but who the hell are you? And why are you answering my girlfriend's phone calls?" I asked, scratching at my knees.
"Girlfriend? Man, you didn't catch on, didjyah? Isn't (y/n) like, your ex?"

My chest clenched at the simple two letters put together. Ex. Using all of my strength, I tried not to cry. "Le...Let me ask you again, fucker. Who the hell are you?"
"I'm (y/n)'s new boyfriend, okay?"

I felt my heart drop to the bottom of my stomach. Then I heard a girl giggling in the background. And not just any girl.

My girl.

The line clicked dead, as I walked to my room and fell onto my bed. I covered myself in the blankets and laid on the spot where (y/n) was last night. It even smelled like her.

How could she have done this to me?

How about a better question; how could she have moved on so quick from me?

Tears emerged from my eyes as I stared at the ceiling. I unlocked my phone and looked through my camera roll filled with her.

I was broken.

Lost.

It hasn't even been a year between us... How deeply have I fallen in love with her? Why did I accept this love, and why didn't I see it coming? I thought about marriage, about life with her. . .