Maven and Adrianna were like the sun and the moon. Their paths were meant to cross but not to sync eternally.
Both from prominent wealthy families separated by hatred and vendetta, they should've left it at that. But fate has a funny way to let them...
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Just when I thought I wouldn't be unluckier, an ambush long quiz happened in my CrimLaw class. What a way to start my Monday.
It was a day of sweat, hazy skies, wounded pride and the possibility of rattling my chances in advancing to Law School. I think it drained the living daylights out me. More so by the time class ended just around eleven thirty.
There were no fluffy white clouds to shield us from the extreme violent sun, only a thick wall of humidity and the heat of wave moving into second, making the day unbelievably long.
So I thought of driving my way to Power Plant and hitting lunch at Hatch 22 for a Mediterranean Lamb Kebab with crisp falafel, tabouleh salad, onion hummus, tahini sauce and cumin naan bread cucumber.
Occasionally, my eyes would drip down my phone, wondering if Maven's going to blast it any moment now but to my utter disappointment, it did not even lit up for a message. I found myself pulling up our old silly text messages, stolen photos and that Tagalog time video he sent over my viber and I can almost feel myself caving in.
The absence of his presence didn't really sink in to me. Missing Maven was like missing a part of myself. I miss the part of myself when I was with him, the carefree attitude, the serenity, the spontaneity—all of it.
But there was no one to blame but myself. It didn't help that my heart wont even shut up, it screamed something I never heard of. This feeling was as intense as the time when I was 5 and lost my way to the crowd in a mall. That moment of vulnerability and of fear, all I could ever do was cry and hope that someone will come to my rescue and help me find my way back—where I belong.
I almost convinced myself, or I tried to, that my life shall continue in a similar way, in a similar fashion, and things would be back on how it did pre-Maven time.
I silently hope that what happen was just a bad dream and I would wake up and find him turning around and taking me back. There was that flimsy pathetic hope I've kept like some relic I've preserved in an eternal shrine in my heart-- that he'll be back and I would welcome him back with an open arms. I would tell him how much he made me felt human and alive and this time I would never let him go.
And before I could go further on my pity party, I stood up, paid my bill and left. I walked briskly and that moment, I wanted to sprint my way to the car park and head to my Jaguar and cry.
But all things fled when I bumped into someone. I murmured my apology quickly but stopped when a familiar voice called up.
"Adrianna!!"
I turned around to find Jasmine, wearing a halter mid-riff top with peach long flowy skirt that reached her knee and in her arms are loads of shopping bags with her Chanel bag on the other and a smile graced up her face.
Jasmine, for a short span of knowing each other, was this type of person you'd like to award Ms Congeniality on some pageant. She's the type you want to talk to after an exam that almost ate up your entire soul or after Hitler toasted you alive.
