Secret Love Song

The One Where He Draggs Her Out Of The Building

I spent the whole weekend on my bed. 

Last week had been great. Seriously great. Super fun, so much energy, responsibilities done without effort. But the high was over way too fast, and now I couldn't move. 

I made it a movie marathon:
  - Wild Child
  - White Chicks
  - Clueless
  - IT
  - The Devil Wears Prada
  - Scream
  - Shrek

To wrap the whole depressive episode up: I may be depressed, and it may happen once in a while without any say or control from me, but I watched some God damned good movies. 

I was perfectly fine in my bed all day. Yes, I missed like 30 calls from Naomi yesterday, and she did eventually realize my conditions, and just let it happen. But, again, I was watching great movies, I was getting some much-needed rest, and I was eating delicious junk food. Life was great. But my idiotic cousin couldn't let me have my peace. 

The bell began ringing at around 8 pm Sunday night. It kept on ringing for half an hour, but when it finally stopped, there was a two-minute break before there was a knock on my door. A loud, aggressive knock. 
I growled. "Fuck you, Pedro," I was convinced he had let the bastard in. I got up from my extremely comfortable bed with the blanket wrapped around me and made my way to the door. "And fuck you too, you annoying piece of shit. Just let me be depressed, for fucks sake!" I opened it. 
"Nice cursing, 'cus," he drew an annoying smile. 
"Oh, just fuck you, Augusto." He barged in. Made his way to the kitchen and opened almost all the cabinets. "There's no good food in here,"
"I know," I smiled, "It's great."
He stood next to me, grabbed my arm to lift it up, and sniffed my armpits. "You are one disgusting man," 
"You haven't showered in days."
No, I haven't. I barely even peed, 'cus. Do you think I can shower like this?

He made me a cup of tea, handed it to me, and gave me a threatening look. Then he made his way to the bathroom and after a boring fifteen minutes, he came back to grab my hand and pull me in there. The bathtub was filled, a candle was lit, and there was some good music playing. 
"Get inside. If you're too exhausted to clean yourself up, leave your underwear on and I'll do it myself."
"I might."
I obeyed perfectly. It wasn't the first time he did something like this. I knew the drill. 

"We're going out," he said when I was finally done with the bath after I showed up in the living room with a towel wrapped around me. 
"With?"
"My friends."
I rolled my eyes. I hated those guys. "You couldn't have called my friends?"
"I could have. I didn't want to." 
"You're the best person to have around when depressed," I stated sarcastically.
I swear to God his friends are like a Coldplay song. They're named differently, look different, and have minor irrelevant differences; but still are insanely dull, even more boring copies of each other. "What if I don't want to go? You know your friends bore me to death."
"I don't care," he drew yet another annoying smile. 
"So where are we going on this wonderful evening?"
"We're taking you into account. Something simple, easy, with not much energy required. I'm driving us all to McDonald's on the main street. Plus, I know your order so you don't even have to leave the car to get your food."
"Is there any way in which I get to not go?"
"No."

They left me in the car with this one guy. Don't ask me for a name, 'cause I don't have it. We were both seated in the front seats. I guess they didn't want to leave me alone. The question here is did they not want to leave me a lonely gal? Or did they not trust me?
If it's the first one, I appreciate the sentiment but I would be better off alone than with a brunette, beanie-wearing Ken. 
In the second case, I guess I agree.

The radio was on. Yellow, by Coldplay, began playing. Augusto's friend shifted in his seat, drew a smile, and turned the volume up. I swear these kids destroy me. 
"Of course," I mumbled, chuckling under my breath. 
"Mhm?" he glanced at me, "did you say something?" I shook my head, calmly playing it cool.
I was making fun of you 'cause I literally insulted you in my mind half an hour ago with this band and, of course, turns out you love it.

The song jammed with its repetitive notes from start to finish, in deathly silence. I quite enjoyed the peaceful moment, honestly. When the song ended, he looked back at me, dignifying himself to speak an honest word at me, and said: "so how are you? I know you've been feeling kind of moody lately, but I'm sure there's gotta be a reason. You can talk to me if you want."

First of all, moody? What the actual fuck? ??????

Secondly, bitch, I don't even know your name. If I wanted to talk to someone about what's going on, it would sure as hell not be you. 
Thirdly, the condescending tone, oh my God! You poor thing that can't keep your emotions stable, you need someone to save you, and I shall be you savior; to what you will be forever grateful and you will thank me by sleeping with me.
I can not believe this guy.

I glanced at him, pressing my lips and narrowing my eyes to look as threatful as possible. It was a certified look, and it has got me what I pleased a million times. It read "don't fuck with me 'cause I swear to God I got nothing to lose." 
Once again, it worked. He almost choked and glanced out the window immediately. However, the rest of the crew arrived in a matter of minutes. We left one of the car's doors open, where Augusto sat, and the rest of us laid on the cold floor. The conversation was shallow and slightly misogynistic, but the McNuggets didn't disappoint. He took me home (as in Augusto did). Before closing the apartment door on him, I hugged him. He was surprised at first but held me back. He squeezed me hard, lifting me in the air; laughed, and left.