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(Chance)
I lost count of how many times I heaved a deep sigh. Boredom is killing me and we have to wait until two so we can proceed to our next event which is a mall show a thousand kilometers from here. I made a popping sound using my mouth as I opened my phone and clicked the Piano Tiles app. I cant help but to move my head a little as I create some lyrics with the sound I make through the game. This is nice.
And then a bastard took my phone away from me who is named Vick. Fuck. I'm almost 900! Why does he have to do that? Such a kill joy. He sat next to me and played another round. He didn't even make it to 200 because he lost. Pfft. I know he's not good with games.
"Argh!" Shit. I now thank whoever invented the carpet because had it not because of it then my phone would've died. Who in their right mind would throw a phone just because you lost in a freaking game?! Apparently, Vick does.
"What's the matter?" I stayed calm. More like I forced myself to stay calm even with the fact that Vick almost got my phone shattered. He's obviously about to lose his chill and I don't want him to explode. I don't want to end up punching my best friend's face. I am so over that.
He placed his elbows on top of his knees and covered his face using both of his hands. Okay. This seems serious.
"Chloe is problematic." I'm surprised he even finished his sentence. His voice is trembling and... weak.
"So? Does it matter if Nicole's problematic? Is it because of you?" I asked. He shook his head and looked at me tiredly.
"It's not that, Gerald. She is problematic not because of me or the both of us but because of another man." I even saw how Vick balled his hands into fists. Damn. We have a mall show an hour from now. I don't want to look so ragged if he ever decides to withdraw his frustrations on me.
"How did you know?"
"I planned to go after Chloe in the conference room but I heard her voice. I didn't mean to intrude and I tried to go away but I heard her muttered darling and I was intrigued so I opened the door a little. And there I saw her, talking on the phone and crying. She was scared because the person or the guy perhaps is sick. She was damn worried." It's hard to see my friend pulling his hair. One is that his hair is perfectly arranged by his stylist and second is that he's hurting.
"She fucking moved on, Gerald. She did and here I am, still fucking in love with her." He said with hatred in his voice. He even laughed bitterly when I saw a lone tear fell from his eye.
I hate to see him like this. I would have to say that being vulnerable, like the way Vick already is, is not a weakness but a strength for he allows his friend to see him hurting despite the other people's principle that men should never cry. And in the past five years, we've been like that. I allowed him to see the worst of me when she left and he did the same. Though I should have got tired of seeing the same pained face of my best friend, I can't. As much as I hate to admit I know how he feels and I'll be damned. It's unbearable.
