𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 ᵗᵐʳ ᵃᵘ

Chapter 3: Packing

WE bought tickets and booked the hotel Hana suggested. I still tried convincing her to not pay for me but she wouldn't budge. A family line of stubborn people.

I was currently at the house where I lived before I moved into Minho and Hana's parents' place. Before my mum died, I thought we had a stable home; but when she died, it turned out she was deep in debt. I had to sell the house to pay it off and today was the last day that I had to move all the things out. The money I had left after paying it off was put in my savings, but I used some of that to bail the bastards out of jail.

I only had clothes left in my room. I haven't been back since the movers moved all the furniture out, which I sold as well. That was about a month ago.

After some time of packing, I heard a knock on the door.

Who would be knocking right now?

I opened the door and it was Hana.

"Hey, Hana. Why are you here? I thought you were packing." I said.

"Anni, I finished packing 2 hours ago." She said, sadness coating her tone.

"What?"

"Anni, you've been here for 3 hours. Knowing you, you shouldn't be packing for so long. You always finish packing in like half an hour." She explained.

"3 hours?" I heard my voice crack. Hana just came up to me and hugged me. I hugged her back, silently crying into her shoulder. "Look, I know you're still dealing with what happened, but I promise you, it'll be okay."

"Yeah," I sniff. "I guess so."

"You done packing?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"Come on, let's go home and watch some movies, yeah?" She suggested. I sniffed again, wiping the tears from my eyes before nodding.

We arrived back at her house and put the rest of my clothes in my bedroom. We sat on the couch and started watching The Hunger Games. Before we knew it, we had already watched all the movies and the sun was already setting.

We started getting ready for bed and I folded my clothes nicely. We booked the flights for one week from now. Hopefully, I'll be able to have fun and just forget about my past for a bit. I changed into my pyjamas and then took my melatonin.

-

Is the constant feeling of what happened being my fault, bad? I can't help but feel what happened to my mom is my fault. I was the one that broke up with him. I was the one that didn't love him anymore. Would he have done that if we didn't break up?

Sometimes I feel like love is overrated. You date someone for like 2 months then you break up. Nothing special. It all always ends up the same. And it's even worse if you're dating a psychopath.

I continue drawing my designs in a small sketchbook that I've had for a few months. I wanted to have some designs when I study fashion and design at uni. I probably won't get anywhere in my own line but maybe I can work for another brand or something.

I'm blasting You're Losing Me by Taylor Swift through my headphones and it's been on repeat for a while now. Taylor Swift is like my Roman Empire. So is design, Melanie Martinez, Chase Atlantic and and crafting. These things help me distract myself from reality. I made my ringtone Church by Chase Atlantic because that song is just amazing.

I was busy drawing a loose, forest-green dress that reached a few inches below the knees. It had spaghetti straps and was glittery. My phone buzzed and I pulled it out. I got a text from Thomas. I opened the message.