Mistakes [Second Book]

thirty four

im not sure why, but i am super paranoid that nobody likes my writing anymore...?? tell me your thoughts.

Daniel's POV

As I begin driving down the busy streets, tears blur my vision. How could I have been so stupid? Of course Joey hasn't changed. How was I so naïve to fall for his shenanigans? He never really loved me, did he?

My phone is ringing nonstop, but I ignore it. Multiple texts and voicemail alerts sound, but I put all my focus onto the road. Preston is better for Joey anyways. He's a lot more attractive than me. Probably better at sexual pleasuring as well. That's all Joey cares about anyways. Sex. After all, I was only ever a stupid bet. How could anyone ever fall in love with me?

My foot presses further down onto the gas pedal. I allow my body to take control, turning down random roads and taking sketchy back allies. Wherever I end up, I know there will be a reason. As my mother used to always say, everything happens for a reason. Maybe I was meant to feel this pain. Maybe it is a way of healing me. A way to make me stronger. But I don't want this pain to continue. I want to just numb it all and never feel anything ever again. I want the pain to exit my body and take a step in front of a moving train. I don't want to feel such pain anymore.

My eyes feel swollen as I rub them roughly with my my clenched fist, leaving one hand on the steering wheel. Sirens sound in the city, flashing lights at an abundance, scattered around the skyscrapers. Dark shadows fill the sidewalks and streets as groups of teenagers walk beside each other. I hear their laughter, even from inside of my car, and it causes a sad smile to spread across my face. Silly, silly teens. Don't they know what the real world is like?

As I turn down another road, a sense of déjà vu hits me. My surroundings grow familiar and a slight panicky feeling envelopes my chest. I could just turn around. The feelings would diminish and I'd soon be overtaken by the same undeniable pain. But I can't, and I won't. Because I was taken here for a reason. This isn't just a coincidence. It simply cannot be. A sad smile is plastered on my face as I pull in front of the building, placing my hands on my hips and sighing.

My head spins as I head into the building. This stupid flipping frat house.

Nobody pays much attention to me as I walk in. They're all too caught up in their hormonal selves. A couple girls sit on the couch making out as a group of guys watch intently. Men, I think to myself, disgusting pigs.

I walk aimlessly around the house, until suddenly a familiar voice startles me.

"Daniel?" A confused voice asks, causing me to turn around. Shane stands there, a cup in his hand.

"Y-Yeah. Hey," I say as calmly as I possibly can.

He smiles, reaching over to touch my arm. I jerk away, seeing pain and confusion flash across his face. My face twists into an apologetic smile and he smiles back.

"Come on, let me get you a drink." he states, motioning for me to follow him.

We head into a kitchen area, him grabbing a cup. He begins pouring a bunch of different things into a cup, the only thing me recognizing being vodka. He hands the cup to me and I look at him, not taking the cup.

"I don't drink." I mumble, and he raises an eyebrow at me.

"You do tonight, man. You look rough." he states, offering the cup to me again. I take it this time, sniffing the reddish pink liquid.

"What is this?" I ask quizzically.

"Cherry vodka sour. Drink up!" he exclaims, grabbing his own cup and raising it slightly before tipping his head back and devouring the liquid.

I follow him, taking a sip of the drink. My tastebuds celebrate at the liquid, begging for more. I tip my cup back, swallowing a mouthful of the drink.

"You like it?" Shane asks, and I nod immediately. He smirks and begins walking out of the kitchen, motioning for me to join once again.

We walk into an all-too-familiar room. Very few people are in here, but I don't recognize any of them thankfully.

"Drink up, Danny boy. We've got a lot of fun to have tonight." Shane smirks, and I return the gesture, emptying the contents of my cup into my mouth and down my throat.

Just enough to forget the pain, I told myself. But maybe just enough was a little too much.

(a/n: i gOT CRAAAAMPS
THEYRE MULTIPLYING.)