Wilbur
I stare at the top of her head, her dark hair poorly sectioned. I feel her breath hit against my shirt, thankful she doesn't drool. I don't mind her sleeping against me, but maybe she'll be upset by it when she wakes up. I guess I should just act asleep again so she can't blame me.
I'm slowly losing the habit of only seeing her as my ex. They even don't really look alike anymore. My ex always had to be clean and look her best, but Eve doesn't mind being a bit messy in front of others. She's not a clean freak, but also not a slob. She doesn't use her makeup to cover up every little imperfection but instead uses it to enhance her natural, pretty features. Eve is very pretty, and I hate it. I hate having to live next to her. I hate having to date her. Being near her all the time just means I'll eventually fall for her, and I can't let that happen again. But another part of me says she's different, that she won't do that to me. Plus, I don't have a best friend for her to fuck in my bed while she thinks I'm away.
But no. She's not even interested in me, so it really doesn't matter. Yet her non mutual feelings are probably my fault. I just couldn't help being mean to her when I first met her; when I first saw those same features. Those features are changing, though. I no longer see my ex when I look at her. I see Eve, my fake girlfriend, my neighbor.
It's been two years. I should be able to move on to someone else. Most people move on after a few months, so I'm just acting ridiculous. I wouldn't even go back to my ex if she begged, I hate her. I'm just terrified of being hurt again by the closest people in my life. I'm struggling to make a new album, though, so maybe it would be good to get some inspiration.
The plane lands and people start standing from their seats. I slightly shake my arm and Eve's head snaps up.
"We're home," I tell her. Her mascara has smudged a bit, but it's cute. "We both fell asleep. Guess you ended up on me."
"Oh, sorry." She mutters with a soft yawn.
"It's okay."
Typical of us, we leave the airport and drive through the city in complete silence. I say a quick goodbye before stepping into my apartment, setting my bag down by the door. It's the middle of the day, but I'm exhausted, so I walk to my bedroom and collapse on my bed, not even bothering to pull the covers over me.
When I wake up, I realize I've slept into the next day. It's not unusual for me to do that, especially after a show. I immediately check my phone, going through my hundreds of notifications.
David (manager): Brycen Cam gave you two tickets to his show tonight at Radio City
Me: Who is that?
David (manager): He's getting famous online so you and Eve should show up.
Me: 👍
I sigh, not feeling like going to a concert I couldn't care less about.
Me: Any plans tonight? We have a date
Eve: What is it?
Me: Concert, Brycen Cam, Idk who that is but he gave us free tix
Eve: Coooool :) When's it at?
I check the email David sent me with the tickets to see the time.
Me: Shit, it's early. It starts at 5. I'll pick you up in an hour.
Eve: Okayyyy
I set my phone down and force myself out of bed, my legs begging to be stretched. I turn on the shower and, as usual, stare at the wall for a good fifteen minutes while the hot water pours over me. I finally finish and dry myself off, pulling on black pants and a loose maroon shirt. I aggressively shake my hair with my towel, drying it off after about ten minutes. I comb it with my fingers but it still looks a mess, so I head to Eve's a few minutes early and knock.
"One second!" I hear her call from the other side. A minute later, she opens the door, and my breath catches as I see her. She's dressed in a tight, cropped dark green tank top that reaches just above her belly button and baggy jeans, the hem of her boxers poking out. She looks sexy, the outfit perfectly showing off every curve. I've only ever seen her in clothes that only my old gym coach would wear, but even then, she looked good. Now, I have to glue my eyes on her face so I don't make her uncomfortable by checking out her body.
"Hey," My voice cracks. "Uh, do you know how to take curly hair?"
She grins at me, the dark gloss on her lips shining in the dull light of the hallway. "I can try. Come in,"
I follow her to her bathroom, identical to mine. A mirror takes up the entire upper half of one wall, a sink and counter below it. Various makeup and hair tools are scattered on the counter. I watch as she grabs some sort of spray and comb from a drawer.
"This is supposed to help frizz, I think." Eve frowns at me. "Fuck, you're way too tall." She hops on the counter so she's sitting on it, her legs dangling. I'm still a good bit taller, so I grab a stool in the corner and sit in front of her. Of course, my eye level is right at her chest, so I just look down at her feet as she begins toying with my hair. Her fingers feel like heaven as they scratch against my scalp, rubbing in the spray and sorting out my hair. After just a few minutes, she announces she's done.
We both stand up and look in the mirror. It's not perfect, but it's a whole lot better. "Thank you,"
"Sure," She says, putting the bottle away and grabbing a thin black tube. "Give me just a minute, I'm almost done with my makeup."
I nod and, even though I'd rather stay in here and watch her, I step back out to her living room. I look at the pictures on the wall, seeing her best friend or her mom in every picture. After a few more minutes, she's ready to go, her hair out of its bun and now loose over her shoulders. I wish I could tell her how beautiful she looks, but I'm sure she'd just laugh at me.
She grabs her thin wallet and tucks it into the pocket of her jeans as she smiles at me. "Let's go,"
