Roommates (Maxley)

Chapter 13

|Mocha
[Image]
Aren't they the cutest?

|Roxanne
Yeah, so cute.

|Mocha
Sorry
I meant to send this to PJ :(

|Roxanne
Figured.
It's whatever.

It's not whatever, Mocha knows that. The two of them were close enough to club together but when it came time to open up, crickets. She wanted to be closer to Roxanne, and not just because she was pretty. She had a lot of siblings and Roxanne reminded her of her youngest sister, nice yet naive. She seemed like she had a good heart and was just trying to give it to the wrong person, Mocha related to that. She spent her entire life being lusted for instead of loved, all thanks to breasts that developed two years too soon and hips that widened when she tried her hardest to keep them small. Every romance she had was short-lived, well, until recently. PJ was sweet, sending her poetry and occasionally writing some for her. Sometimes they'd talk about Roxanne and Max, their conflict a troubled topic in the friend group. It didn't help that when asked about it the two denied there being any problem when there obviously was one.

|Mocha
How are you holding up?

|Roxanne
How do you think?

|Mocha
Want to talk about it?
I can take another break if you want to call or something

Hello?

|Roxanne
I've had too many drinks to talk right now
I sent the pic to PJ for you
Ttyl <3

She thought she sent it to PJ.

|Bobby
Roxy
???
Did you mean to post that?

|PJ
Hey
Are you up???

She wasn't, head down on a counter of a random bar as her bandmates partied. The club was loud but all the alcohol drowned it out, music replaced by the beat of her aching heart. God, she even saw them in her dreams, constantly a spectator who just wanted to stay away altogether. Max was happy, great, lovely. She wanted to be happy for him but she was so bitter it make her stomach churn. She just...she wanted to move on. She wanted to forget they had ever been together but her brain wouldn't let her. She could take as many guys as she wanted home, cling to them, call them hers but none of them were him. Tears trickled down her cheeks as drunken dreams clogged her brain, a cocktail of emotions spilling from her subconscious like her tipped-over glass. It wasn't until Stacey shook her awake that she saw what she had done, but by then it was too late. Fuck, how did she even post it?! The buttons were different colors, on different sides and she somehow managed to hit the wrong one. It was posted with a slew of random letters, all hit by random swipes while she slept. Comment after comment froze her phone, the lag unbearable as she frantically tapped around. She scrambled to take it down but it had already been downloaded, shared, sent to group chats and snapchat stories.

Ding!

Beep!

BZZZ!

KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE~!

"Did you see?"

"No way!"

"I thought he was like, super straight."

"Seriously? I always had a feeling..."

"He's literally a walking fruit basket, have you seen his nails? Don't get me started on his skin, I know he's gatekeeping his routine."

"I mean it's not that surprising, I've seen blush in his backpack."

"Damn, they hit the pentagon! Now he's gay too? Our dads work together, we're on the swim team together! What if he made the water gay? Am I gay?"