Equal And Opposite.

Chapter 1

At some point in my life something changed. I barely noticed it happen, and I barely remember it now. But at some point, i think, we all meet a person who changes everything. A person who shows you the true meaning of love, and sacrifice, and madness, and misery.

I'm not talking about a soulmate. That kind of love is not something i believe in. And even if it's real, it could never compare to the girl who changed me and the way she loved. Completely. Violently.

The girl I want to tell you about is perhaps the most annoying person i have ever encountered. Loud and rude and obnoxious, and angry at the world. Average looking, but with the most interesting eyes. Eyes that change their color from green to blue to grey. And this girl introduced me to the truth of the world, the ugly, unbearable fact of humanity.

We're monstrous.

Chelsea Locke showed me the realest form of love imaginable. She hasn't left in any real way, she simply went mad trying to survive. There again, Chelsea was always a warrior.

When i met Chelsea, I was working as a bar hand. Mixing drinks and opening beers seemed like an easy way to make rent, and Chelsea was a waitress in the tavern. At 5"1 she was tiny, with brilliant blue-black hair and winged eyeliner and forever in black skinny jeans. She was the most demanding person i had ever seen, with a short temper and a bad attitude. Our first meeting, she simply walked away. "I'm busy," she said, and left me there wondering who would walk away from me.

That sounds arrogant. Because it is. I'm an attractive guy, 6" and well built. I'd never known a girl to show so little interest and it bruised my ego a little that she brushed me off so casually.

"Ignore it. She's trouble that one." Frank, the owner, told me.
"Does she always act like that?" The words had come out before i could stop them.
"Well," Frank looked at me, then back to the door that was still swinging with the force the tiny waitress had used to open it, "she's brilliant. One of the best workers i have. But she's also one of the most difficult people to deal with. Let me give you a peice of advice, Jack. Just go with it. She knows what shes doing."

I spent the rest of the night wondering what had happened. This girl, this tiny waitress, played on my head for hours, making me doubt my own charm. I decided that night that I hated Chelsea Locke.

My second night working for Frank, I was struggling to find a bottle opener. I was told there was one at the bar, but for the life of me i couldn't find the blasted thing. I was on the verge of giving up completely and simply smashing the drink open when a small, chirpy voice came from behind me.
"Jack, isn't it? Are you okay, man?" It still fascinates me that such a feminine voice could carry so far when it was used properly. Chelsea stood behind me, looking genuinely concerned.
"I'm fine," came my own sharp voice, colder than I had intended. Groaning internally, I swallowed my pride and faced her. "I just can't find the bottle opener."
Chelsea giggled lightly through her smile, looking up at my face. "It gets used but sometimes not put back, it should be there," she said casually, pointing to a little hook about the height of my chest that I hadn't noticed. "It's probably just hanging around." She started glancing quickly, before settling on a spot to my left. "There," she smiled, throwing her hand up toward it and walking away.