Eddie Munson - One Shots II

022. Yellow Jacket.

Trigger Warning ⚠️
Themes of abuse, violence.

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I walked in with the large white box in both of my trembling hands, intent on passing on the first gift I'd ever bought for anyone in my entire life, my feet feeling like lead with every step I took across the grand hotel foyer.

I hoped that this would cement what I'd been feeling, and what I felt he'd been feeling too.

Sure, I wasn't the easiest person to deal with, likely never would be, old habits truly did die hard.

But something about the way he had always been with me, made me realise that there was such a person, destined to accept me, and in this nerve wracking moment, I believed it was him.

I tried to stride with confidence, going over the whole speech I'd rehearsed on the way here, trying to blot out the pretentious chandeliers above me, the place far too grand for someone like me.

I knew he'd be in the lobby, having his usual drink, and that was where my feet were taking me now.

When I finally reached the lobby, I went to approach him, before stopping dead in my tracks.

There he was, as beautiful as ever.
With his arm around another girl.

Smiling down at her, laughing with her.
Her silky red hair swaying, the sunlight bouncing off it perfectly, like something out of a movie.

For moment, I was self conscious of the raven midi length bob I had, and grew almost sick with envy and rage, as my heart began to sink.

Rejection stung, and it fucking sucked.
I mean, he hadn't outright rejected me verbally, but this felt almost like a choice laid out in front of me.

A choice he'd made.
And he'd chosen her.

How had I gotten this so wrong?

Feeling the bile swirling around in my stomach, feeling the tears prick my eyes, I gripped the box in my hands like it was the one thing between me surviving or dying on the spot, and I turned away.

I did a complete three sixty, my eyes falling on the hotel reception desk.

I marched over to it, startling the clerk.

"You have a trash can?" I asked, my voice a sad, heartbroken grumble.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" The clerk asked, as I slammed the gift box down onto the counter.

"I said, do you have a trash can?" I asked, wiping my eyes roughly.

"Yeah, just out back." He said, as the loud boom the box had made impacting with the reception counter rang through the air.

"Put this in there will you? Or do whatever the fuck you want with it." I snapped, as he eyed the label.

"You sure you want me to toss this? Anything from Greens is damn expensive." He said.

"I'm real sure." I snarled.

"Alright, if you say so." He said.

And with that, I marched back into the lobby, just catching his eye for a split second, before turning on my heel, storming out of the hotel's equally pretentious revolving doors.

I really thought I'd gotten this right.
But I'd gotten it completely wrong.

I didn't fit in his world, as I'd thought.
I was on the outside, where I was always destined to stand.

I climbed onto my bike, slamming my helmet down on my head roughly, practically screaming inside of it.

My head throbbed, my throat felt tight, and my chest felt like it was going to cave in on itself.