Underground

I

Lying, cheating, manipulating bastard.

You couldn't describe your ex any better. If someone were to look those very words up in a dictionary, they'd surely find a picture of his smug, deceitful, disgusting, twisted little face.

"[Name], wait," he gasped as he stumbled from your shared bed, the bedsheet wrapped hurriedly around his body. He chased after you as you weaved through the apartment, snatching your keys from your table with the idea of storming out. "It's not what it looks like, I—"

You spun around, cheeks flushed red, eyes glassy with tears that threatened to spill over. You squared up to him, your keys pressed between your fingers, ready to strike your ex in a violent, horrible punch if he dared to try and touch you.

"Not what it looks like?!" You repeated, exasperated with heartache. He shrunk back, his mouth rapidly opening and closing as he whirred for an answer, a response that could placate you. But there was no placating you; there was no coming back from this. Ever. "Tell me, Harry," you scoffed, now gesturing to the bedroom you had exited from, "what was that then? Enlighten me with your words."

"It... I don't feel anything for her, she tricked me." Harry mumbled, his eyes not looking into yours when he spoke, a known indication of his that he was lying. You didn't even have to listen to his excuse to know that he wasn't being truthful. His face said it all. "I don't even know her that well!"

You tried to stop yourself from laughing, but you couldn't help it. It sounded strained, wounded, broken. You stared furiously at Harry, ignoring the freckles dotting his cheeks that you loved so much, ignoring the way his eyes held so emotion that used to be full of love. "Is that supposed to make me feel better? I hate you!"

You pushed past him, your shoulder knocking into his. He flinched, stumbling back and reaching out to grab you, but you'd already advanced towards the front door. Your bags were scattered haphazardly in the hall, making it tricky for him to step over with the bedsheet weighing him down. But you didn't care, you snatched your handbag and didn't dare to look back again. Fearing that you'd stay and listen to his deceitful words of you did.

"Wait, please, [Name], don't leave me, I'm begging you!" Harry cried out, his hand grabbing your wrist and spinning you around. You tried to swipe him with the keys, but he caught your other wrist, holding you in place. Trapping you. You struggled against him, desperate to pull back and flee through the door, but he was a lot stronger than yourself. "You're always working, you're always so busy. I met her at one of your shows—"

You felt the tears burn as they rolled down your cheeks. "At one of my shows?" You whispered, distraught. And suddenly you felt violently sick. You hadn't performed a professional show in theatre for a couple months—production took a long time, with each show being 2 hours long, all full of song and dance. How long had it been since he had met her? How many times had they done this behind your back?

Harry realised his mistake almost instantly, his face paling. He nervously licked his lips, his eyes falling down to the keys in your hand. "I was lonely, and we were just talking at first!" He eagerly defended, as if anything he was saying would make you feel better about being cheated on. "We exchanged numbers and met up for drinks a few times, and then one thing led to another and—"

"And you fucked her in our bed!" You concluded loudly, hotly, steam rising from your ears. You started to struggle again. "Let me go, Harry. I want to leave."

Harry furiously shook his head. "No," he replied stubbornly, "because I know you'll walk out that door and you won't ever come back."

"That's what you deserve!" You cried out, pulling and tugging, trying to kick your feet so you could run, flee from the apartment that you shared. You wouldn't have anywhere else to go—your parents lived a few city's over, and the theatre closed an hour or so ago. You could easily find a hotel to stay in for the night, but where would you go after that? Hotels were grossly expensive, and you couldn't afford to keep staying there until a more suitable option came up.