Believe in Second Chances

3) The Real Story

-Ben

There she stands. Kylie.
The girl I hated for so many years. The only person I’ve hated for so many years.

For those who know me, I’m a pretty simple guy who don’t hate a lot of things. I’m the good guy who happen to have a sense of weird humor.
I could never hate someone like this. And never describe someone with the words that came up my mind like this. No one could ever expect me doing these things.
Not even I.

But Kylie is an exception and has always been an exception.

Her words continue ringing into my ears and mind. Raped, raped, raped. She was raped.

After a while of staring at my shoes, my gaze move up to her. I’m reading so many sad emotions in her eyes.
They’re filled with despair.
I left her with no doubt. If I only stayed…

What annoys me the most is that, there’s still a strong feeling in me. As I look at her, it burns stronger. But I can’t hate her anymore.
I can’t blame her… that’s not right…
The feeling is powerful and decided to stay unidentified since the second I saw her and her friend walk into the room. I don’t like it.

I take a final sigh before opening my mouth again.
“I’m sorry…,” I stutter, “I wish… oh god, Kylie, what has happened to you?”
My usually so loud voice is now so quiet. What am I supposed to say? The guilt that I’ve put on her shoulders... oh god, Ben, you’ve caused a mess!

“A lot.”

I close my eyes tightly to not let the tears wander down. Kylie makes the first move and suddenly I’m caught in her embrace.
My heart starts beating faster and I feel emotions from the past float up again. This girl broke my heart so bad, and I hated her for it.

Dammit, this is so confusing. It’s been like, eight years! I have been doing fine these eight years.
My band took off, we have a second album out, I’ve been happy, Dan has gotten better, Wayne married his girlfriend and even has a kid, like Dan.
As I said, I have been doing more than fine these years.

But how has she been doing?

Looking at her, I realize that she carries traces. Traces that sings about a difference between us. Her eyes are exhausted in some sort of way.
Her smile? Vulnerable.

But as we break away and she smiles to me, I hear a second word for describing.
Beautiful.

Oh god, shut up. She’s your ex. Things are over. Over, over, over. But I should be catching up with her.
Because I actually want to know what the hell has been going on. Raped? She told me that she cheated. I need something to know. The truth.

“I want to know what happened.” I declare.
“And I completely understand. Should we maybe take it elsewhere or?”
“I’ll just text the guys first. We can stay here.”
“Ok.” she sighs.

-Kylie

Ok, let me start all over.

Hi, my name is Kylie, Kylie Sprinter. I live in an boring apartment in the worst neighborhood ever in California.
I’m 25 years old and do nothing but sit in my room or go to work. Sometimes I’ll listen to music, sometimes I’ll write it.
Sometimes I’ll paint it. Yeah, art is life. I work at Starbucks, but I am a full time adult with no life ambition or idea what the hell to do.

Ok, that’s not important, so I’ll explain the other bullshit too.

Once upon a time a girl and a boy fell in love. They were both in a bar, but for different reasons. You see, the boy was there to play bass with his band.
While the girl was there to forget her problems, even though she was a minor. They loved each other deeply and all that stuff.