Academics

what's wrong with you?

When Mayara suggested clubbing I was hesitant to agree, however the recent soul wrenching events of my life may have influenced my judgment a bit more than I'd like to admit.
This scene. Again. The air was polluted more so with alcohol than sweat which allowed my senses to reconcile and look past the fact that there were drunken idiots  and thirsty ass lonely people looking for bait to harass, drug and take home.
Mayara grabbed my hand leading me to the centre of the bar yelling to the tender to grab us a rack of shots with 'extra kick', whatever that meant I was down. The reality of my saddened life had sunken deeper into my brain, it felt like it was coursing through my veins with great pace and anxt it had made me feel like a fool once again. The memories replayed in my head like an everlasting nightmare, the image of Sebastian staring at me like an infection made my skin crawl and temper rise. It vexed me.

Despite my depressing history I chose to ignore the fact I'd completely embarrassed myself and buss it down on the floor, hopefully maintaining a general amount of sobriety to function later.

The slow movement of his body behind mine was enticing, it made me hungry for more as my hands trailed above my head and around his neck, my hips moved as his hands gripped them from behind. Thump. Thump. Thump. It felt as though blood was rushing to my head faster than lightning, the room was hot and heavy his breath, mint. No this wasn't mint nor pine, nothing of the sort. The ransid smell of alcohol and shrimp infiltrated my nostrils like an  enemy invasion. Suddenly his hands on my waist didn't feel as gentle, and sensual but rough and rigid. I needed to find May, May I needed May, help, I needed help.

I attempted to pull away, only to be held back by the drunken man who looked far more mature now that I was facing him. "Where are you going princess?, Don't start something you can't finish" his words were slurred, but the one thing that stunned me apart from his now tight grip on my arm was "princess", I'm not his princess, clays, not even my mother's, I'm the mother fucking class president bitch. Fuck this dick.

"LET ME GO YOU FUCK-TARD!". I hadn't realised I'd managed to draw attention to my self and as I looked around the room I could've sworn I'd seen him, his eyes blazing with anger, his posture rugged unlike his usual poise, his hair cut short. I must have been hella drunken because it almost seemed as though he was approaching at an insanely fast pace.

The old pasty untrained house animal and excuse for a man was on the floor, bleeding out at an immensely quick pace. Before I knew it I was being dragged by my arm through the club out back. "¿Prez, estas bien? ¿te tocó?", it was him, it was Clay, he looked worried and he smelled like - weed.

It was a wake up call as the cold air hit my bare shoulders. I was sobering by the second. I hit him across  his chest-

"THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?, SELLING WEED, HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?"

"Princessa please.", his voice was low and soft but I couldn't care less.

"NO, DONT ' PRINCESSA' ME PREZ, WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE HUH?, A FUCKING PIMP?, A BOZO?", he infuriated me in that moment I don't know what had come over me, maybe it was the alcohol talking. It didn't feel like it.

"¿QUÉ MIERDA ESTÁS HACIENDO AQUÍ, NO ME PREGUNTES?", the fucking spanish couldn't affect me like it usually did, if anything it made me want to kill him.

"I DONT UNDERSTAND YOU!"

"AY DIOS MIO! THE FUCK ARE YOU EVEN DOING HERE?", I lifted his shirt, suspicious of what he was hiding. It didn't seem strange or weird in the moment, just natural-

"Clay. YOU HAVE COCAINE STRAPPED TO YOUR CHEST!, ARE YOU MAD? DO YOU NOT CARE FOR YOUR FUTURE?"

"NO, DONT CALL ME CLAY AND DONT COME HERE AND FUCKING LECTURE ME LIKE MY MOTHER, LIKE WE'RE DATING, LIKE IM YOURS, LIKE YOU'RE MINE!", he enraged me. He was right, we weren't dating but it's not like we weren't in each others embrace, like his hands weren't moving up my shirt every other day, like his mouth wasn't entangled with mine, my hands in his hair, his lips on my neck. We weren't dating were we?

"You know how I feel. you've felt me. you've held me. you've kissed me. you've chased me. Tormented me, whispered in my ear, made me melt with your stupid fucking linguistics, you have put your body on mine and yet you dare to say we have nothing! You act like you aren't protective of me, as if you don't care for me. You act like you want me, you kiss me, devour me, Mark me with your fucking lips and still deny me?", "I AM YOURS!", the world felt empty, his face appeared conflicted and he remained silent, lips sealed. Contemplating.

"You need to leave."

Translation: "Prez are you okay, did he touch/hurt you?"
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU EVEN DOING HERE?, DONT QUESTION ME!"
"OH MY GOD..."

A/N
I started writing this as a joke, but now I'll write properly I swear guys. Sorry it took too long I was doing exams and now I've GRADUATED. So you'll probably get more and better quality chapters as I have no work to do for about three months. Look forward to it and turn on your notifications for updates. If you have any queries about translation or spelling please leave a comment. Also beef, yall need to comment more ik some of ya'll have got to be funny asf, I need some laughter 😃.
Anyways ✌️.