Matthew's fist grabs onto the steering wheel. His hazy vision isn't important right now, he needs to get back to the apartment. The vodka bottle in his passenger seat sways from side to side as he turns. He has his phone in his other hand, calling Nicole.
Each call goes through to voicemail. He slams his fist on the wheel. "Damn it!" She must've taken a cab, he thinks to himself. He steps on the gas pedal. Cars swerve out of the way on the road. He doesn't care how many cars he has to push out of his way, he needs to get there.
Once he's there he runs up the stairway to the one room apartment. This is where it all started. Each step holds a different memory with her. His heart aches with despair and he rushes up. He walks into the doorway, pushing the door open with all the force he has in him. He walks in, seeing the messy apartment.
Messy papers are everywhere, clothes are scattered all over the floor. She was long gone before he got there. He punches the wall, shouting once again. He walks into the bathroom, shattered glass scattered on the floor. He steps carefully, trying to find a sign of where she could've gone.
Nicole sat in the back of the cab, her packed bags sitting besides her. She's getting driven to best friends house. She holds herself, trying her best to keep from crying. She's wondering if she was right to leave before they got the chance to talk it all over. She sees the text message he sent her, her fingers hovers over the screen, holding her breath, trying her best not to open it. She shudders and places her phone down.
Nobody knew they were falling apart, sitting on the edge. Their legs dangled off the cliff, just a nudge away from shattering like glass at the edge of a mountain. She knows life is short but should she really spend it like this. She knows love should be sweet, she wants to love until she's dead.
"Nicole, please just pick up. Please, we need to talk."
Matthew sends the text, hoping she'll read it. He takes his third drink from the bottle of vodka, clutching the wheel. He's wondering if he was right to pick a fight just to argue. He pushes on the pedal harder, his vision blurring, his thoughts slowing down.
Finally, he's had enough. The vodka mixes with his anger and he grabs his phone. He begins typing out the message. "I've had it. I'm not going to beg you to come to back to me. I don't want anything to do with you if you're not gonna fight for us. I wish I hadn't met you if I known this is what you're like."
Nicole can't take it anymore. She reads the text. She presses the call button. Nothing. Tears stream down her face. She calls him over and over. She wants to apologize, to scream at him, to do anything as long as she can hear his voice.
Car tires are screeching, car horns are screaming. Matthews collides with another car, his head body flying forward, then aggressively being thrown backward. His vision turns red, blood flowing into his eyes. His eyes twitch open. "Nicole..." he manages to utter.
Nicole is at her best friends house, sobbing in her arms. She's been a mess for hours. "I'll never get over you," she tells herself, almost like she's speaking to him. She listens to the voicemail, holding herself while she listens to him begging to love her. Fighting for them, what she should've done. She takes her third drink.
