𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐅.

[011] : GROW A BACKBONE!

LOCATION: IVY'S HOUSE, SEATTLE
TIME: 7.35 p.m

A HEAVY STORM BREWED IN HER barely awakened mind, each thought zapping the core of her brain like brisk lightning as she held irritated eye contact with the ceiling, the clouds circling her temple almost like a halo. She was sure she didn't imagine it, the rattling grey mist actually swirling around in her dingy room. She hated herself. She hated this place, she hated everyone, she hated this city. All of the hatred just spewed out bit by bit until the feeling overcome her tired body, her face angry at absolutely everything.

Being played by Vinnie felt so rattling to her bones though the whole scenario was not as shocking as it perhaps sounded in her head, well he's Vinnie—the man whore who only cares for no one but himself. It's just so frustrating that she didn't see this one coming. She put her feelings first and they were damaged beyond repair at this point, her trust run through a shredder, the remains of nimble dignity barely existing. There's no other words to describe it. Aggravating, infuriating, vexing. It's all the same to her, she couldn't possibly understand why he would do this. For the fun of it, maybe for the thrill? Well it was no fucking fun to her, it just felt like pain over and over, punching her chest.

Trust. She actually fucking trusted his stupid words, "You are mine." Who else has he said that to, how many girls are his. He's a damn liar, and he probably repeatedly tells those lies to Belle too. Thoughts fizzling into zipping conceptions, her phone buzzed along the wooden desk adjacent to her bed. Tapping to alight the screen, Mariano's name dominated the display, heavily contemplating whether to pick up or not. She did. There's been four missed calls from him this evening and each time she blocked out the ringing and she couldn't do it again. Pressing the green virtual button, she brought the phone to her ear irritably.

"Yes?"

"Who pissed in your cereal?" His raspy voice so distinctive, if she picked up without looking, it wouldn't be hard to decipher who this was.

"Vinnie did." Her monotone voice masking the sadness in her tone.

"Oh." A beat passed. "You've been missing my calls."

"Yes, I have."

"Can you tell me why?"

"Because."

"Because what, Ivy?"

"Because I'm tired and I'm not really in a talking mood."

You could really hear the struggle in his voice as he sighed deeply. He was trying. Really trying. "Okay, well are you alright?"

"Yes."

He laughed mockingly. "No you're not. You need to stop hiding your feelings until they explode. It's not good, though I'm a little hypocritical."

"How are you hypocritical?"

"Anyways." He dismisses the question. "It's not about me, this is about you."

"I don't hide my feelings, there's just no need for me to broadcast them to the whole world. I'm fine, Mariano."

"You're not. You want me to come over?"

     "No. It's okay you don't need to, you need to stop worrying. You're acting like someone has died or something, I don't need the sympathy." Ivy finally engaged in activity outside of her bed, her legs vigorously working to pull herself out of bed, the thin phone still buried between her shoulder and ear. "I'm all good. "

     "Seeing you—you know, upset yesterday wasn't a cool feeling. I know I like to bully you or whatever but I do care, you were hurting." His voice drops an octave, a sentimental layer lingering at the lower ends of the sentence, the layer not entirely visible unless you knew how Mariano was usually like.