𝐶𝐴𝑀𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑆 －𝑁𝐴𝐻𝑂𝑌𝐴 𝐾.

𝗘𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗡

All The Things She Said || t.A.T.u.|| (Now playing)

Word count: 1,224

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TRIGGER WARNING: explicit language, cringe (Makayla)

Proceed at your own risk.

MAKAYLA

It's been a few hours since Souya left, and I'm honestly feeling better. I can't remember a time when someone has made me feel the way that Nahoya made me feel today. Feelings suck.

My mom and dad got back to the house not too long ago, so now I'm in my room doing homework. I hear the doorbell ring and expect someone to answer it, but I never hear the front door open. I sigh, getting up from my desk and going downstairs.

When I open the door, I'm surprised to see Eleanor standing outside.

"Hey," she smiles as I frown.

"How did you find my house?"

"Um...Nahoya showed me."

I raise a brow suspiciously at her. Why would Nahoya tell her where my house is, and she would he have time to do that? "Okay... what do you want?"

"I just want to tell you that Nahoya's been cheating on you..." she replies nervously and I almost laugh out loud.

"Yeah, right," I scoff.

"I'm serious!" I hate to admit it, but I'm kind of worried. She gives me her phone and I look back at her confused. "He was flirting with me at school, and put his number in my phone." Sure enough, his number was in her phone. Though I don't really classify that as cheating. Am I supposed to just take this girl's word?

"My friend also sent me a picture of him again ice cream shop with a girl."

I her screen there's a picture of Nahoya, my boyfriend, at an ice cream parlor with a brunette girl whose face I can't see.

"You just moved here. How do you have friends?"

"What? You think I can't make friends?" she asks, offended, to which I just shrug to.

"How do I know this girl isn't you?"

"Do I have brown hair?" No, she doesn't. She's blonde, but I'd rather believe anything than Nahoya cheating on me.

"...and this isn't a joke?" I ask quietly.

"No. I'm sorry, girly."

I shut the door in her face, running up to my room. I don't know what I'm feeling right now. I feel hurt and I also feel like I want beat the shit out of someone—preferably Nahoya.

I slam my door shut and let out an ear-shattering scream. It's been a while since I've felt this angry. I've been doing so well but of course, my life can only be good for a little bit.

I want to hit something. I want to throw something. But I don't.

I'm trying to be better, I'm trying to be better, I'm trying to be better.