𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 | 𝐏𝐑𝐍 ❦

𝐭𝐞𝐧

. PRINCE .

january 3rd, 1984
chanhassen, minnesota

°:. *₊ ° . ° .•

"Stop lookin' so gloomy, you look like your girlfriend quit you or somethin'," Mark grumbled before poking and prodding at the antiques that decorated my living room. It wasn't his first time being in my home but he always made it his mission to touch things that didn't belong to him. "I thought you were gettin' on with Susan pretty well lately. She puts a smile on your face."

"Yeah, in bed. It's not about her though," I challenged while raising out of my seat and walking toward a nearby window. "It's about me. I think somethin' is wrong with me."

"It's about time you noticed," Mark joked before I smacked the back of his head, in which he flinched in response. "I'm just messin' around. What do you think is wrong with you?"

Everything, I thought to myself. I was starting to realize that my habits weren't as good as I made them out to be. The way that I watched Susan cry just a few weeks ago and none of her tears jerked at my heart—it sort of scared me. Emotions aren't something I can just deal with, and part of me was curious as to why. It might've stemmed from my strained relationship with my parents, but I didn't necessarily want to think of them either. Even if they were the root of my issues, I didn't want my past effecting my capability to sympathize.

"Susan was ballin' her eyes out a few weeks ago," I began to confess. "I was the cause of it, of course. I just—watched her cry and didn't care that she was cryin'. Does that mean somethin'?"

"It means you're an asshole," Mark snickered. "Hm, let's see. How about Roxanne?"

"What about her?"

"If she cried, what would be your first reaction?"

"To hold her," I shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know. Probably comfort her and ask her why she's upset." Mark gave me a soft smirk, which wasn't the reaction I expected. He then shook his head and chuckled before placing a hand on my shoulder.

"You like Roxanne."

Unmoved by his words, I swiftly swatted his hand off of my shoulder and snickered to myself. I knew exactly what he was implying and what made matters worse is that the hypothetical scenario would even make it seem that way. Sure, I care about Roxanne but that didn't mean I had genuine feelings for her. If anything, this proved that I didn't care for Susan at all. Mark knew my intentions with Roxanne but he had strong faith that the young lady wouldn't even think about giving me the time of day.

So far, that was true.

"I don't like her. Sure, she's a sweet chick but I don't think I have those feelings toward her. I've never really felt that way about anyone besides Susan and tch, look where I am now with her."

"But that doesn't mean you can't change. Look at me and Ronni. You know I was a pig before I met her and now, I've straightened myself out. I love that girl with everything in me—"

"I'm not you. I-I don't know what love is. I honestly don't wanna know."

My stubbornness led for Mark to dismiss the conversation. We instead discussed our plans for the release of the film we had worked on just a few months ago and the music that would correspond with it. It wasn't until an hour after talking about work related issues that the sound of my doorbell startled us. Mark wiggled his brows teasingly, being that he knew exactly who the visitor was.