Chances

Chances Ch. 26

I could live the rest of my life on, "he wrote that song about you.", but it's starting to lose its charm. Physically being back with Julian would be much better.

When I get home, I pull out my old bag and sit down on my living room floor, rummaging through it until I find what I'm looking for. The picture. A picture of Julian and I that Nick took when we were all hanging out once. I closely look at it. Julian's smiling, which is rare to find in a picture of him, and we both look really happy. We were really happy. I set the picture beside me and bury my face in my hands, letting out all the tears that I've had to hold in.

Gentle tears turn into an all out sob, and the song runs through my mind again. No, not the fucking song. It's such a beautiful song. How do I know Albert's not lying about him writing it about me? Then again, Albert probably wouldn't lie about that. The words swim through my mind..

In many ways, they'll miss the good old days

Someday, someday

Then it clicks. Someday..

That's what I wrote in the note I gave him before he left. I said that we'd find our way back to each other, someday.

Oh my God. It IS about me.

Knock

Knock

Knock

Shit.

"Coming," I say, sniffling and going into the bathroom to wipe my tears and blow my nose. I open the door and see Daniel. What the hell does he want?

"Daniel, is everything okay?" I ask.

He nods and invites himself in. Okay, then.

"I called you and you didn't answer." He says, sitting on my couch as I sit near him.

"That was you? I did answer. You didn't say anything." I say with a confused look on my face. He probably thinks I'm lying.

"Must be a phone problem then." He says, getting up and walking over to my bag with furrowed eyebrows. He picks up the picture of Julian and I from the ground and holds it up.

"What's this?" He asks. His voice is very calming, which is surprising.

"It's nothing." I say, reaching for the picture. He holds it back from me and gets closer.

"Why have you been crying?" He asks.

"I haven't."

"You have. Your eyes are puffy."

"Give me the picture." I order, staring at the picture rather than his dark eyes.

"Why don't you forget about this prick, and move the fuck on."

He places the picture on the kitchen counter, thankfully causing no harm to it or me.

"He's not a prick."

"He is."

"Piss off, Daniel." I order, now angrily staring into his eyes.

"I'll see you at work." He says, grinning before planting a sloppy kiss on my mouth.

He must be bipolar. Must be.

One day he's a complete sweetheart. The next, he's a dick head.

He walks out and I immediately lock the door behind him.

A week of repetitive work flies slowly. Slower than ever. It must be because I'm depressed. That's it. I need to get out and have fun. It's Friday night, I wonder what everyone else is doing.