Revived Souls

P A R T T w e n t y O n e

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|T W E N T Y o n e|our Stupidity
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Depeche Mode were his favorite band.

Lennox was drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he sang along to the track. For a brief second, his eyes shifted to my side. I was sitting in the passenger seat too much in shock to actually listen to the music.

"This used to be our song." His voice was soft against the loud music. He almost looked like the Lennox I knew and fell in love with.

He was referring to the song Strange Love by Depeche Mode. I wasn't particularly fond of it but Lennox being Lennox wanted me to listen to his kind of music. He never let me listen to my favorite music. I was his property. Nothing in my life was controlled by me. He was the uncrowned King. He even said so himself.

We were going to his apartment in Greenwich Village.

I barely said a word throughout the ride. It was a blur - my thoughts and feelings. Lennox kept making passes at me which made me disgusted. My mind was flickering back and forth with memories of Flynn and Genie.

My guilt ate me alive. Genie was missing. I left Flynn. I was with Lennox. A lot happened and I have only one person to blame - me, myself and I.

I regretted being stupid for:

A) Letting Genie get kidnapped
B) Arguing with Flynn and leaving
C) Allowing myself to ever confront Lennox

My mistakes have made me the person I am today. If I would have never liked a guy like Lennox and perhaps would have gone for someone like Flynn, my life would have turned out to be great.
My stupidity is the cause of my every downfall.

"Get down, love. We are here. Welcome back." He applied the brakes and then came close to me stealing a kiss on my cheeks. I dared not show my disgust but I was scrunching my nose mentally.

Truth is that I never enjoyed his kisses. He was my first kiss. But there was never a spark whenever we kissed. I felt nothing. It was bland and it was more physical than anything. That always used to surprise me as the guy I claimed to love back then at least did not make me feel woozy or made my legs into a jell-O. I started believing that those tingles were imaginary and only pertaining to books and novels.

Flynn, however taught me the opposite.

We never kissed. But just a touch could bring electrifying effects. We had an emotional bond, something which was a dearth between Lennox and I.

I stood next to him as he fumbled with the keys trying to open the door of his apartment.

I was feeling nostalgic all of a sudden. Never in the good sense, though.

I remembered the first time he bought me here, the first time I stayed the night and the first time I was pushed away outside badly bruised.

My eyes as an impulse darted to the scars which lay on different regions of my skin in panache.

The door opened and there it was in all its gory.

It looked the same but more dirty, I guess. There were beer and vodka bottles thrown here and there. Even the air I breathed had a cringeworthy stench of alcohol. All I wanted was to run away.