Camisado (not fanfiction)

eight

I was walking as fast as I could go without running, because that would make me look even weirder. I had to get somewhere to wash off this stupid makeup and change into something normal, like jeans and a sweatshirt. Then go back to the beach, wait for a boat or plane or something to find me. Simple plan, then I'd get back to my old life.

I kept my head down, trying to hide my face with my hair. I crossed my arms so I was basically unrecognizable. So Dallon couldn't see me, couldn't recognize me, couldn't talk to me. Even thought I kind of wanted to talk, I knew I'd end up saying something stupid.

I was halfway to the bunker, where I was planning on just grabbing my old clothes and washing my face then leaving, when someone grabbed me by the shoulder, yanking me backwards.

I stumbled back a few steps, looking up to glare at whoever did that. Then I saw Dallon, looking like he didn't even realize what he'd done and was looking at me, concerned. He also had that stupid hat in his hand. I sighed.

"Had, what's wrong? Why'd you just walk out back there?" he asked, scanning my face for possible injuries, but eventually settling on my eyes. I looked away. "You were doing good," he said. "The bride and groom looked happy enough, so you obviously did something right," he gave me the smallest of smiles, trying to lighten up the mood, but I sighed.

I mean, I didn't even technically have a reason to be upset. We weren't dating, weren't even allowed to be. So why the hell was I upset? I seriously didn't even have a right to be upset. But I was, and I couldn't stop.

Maybe just the fact that he'd kissed someone right in front of me, knowing very well that I wasn't allowed to kiss or date anyone once I took his job? Or maybe just... Something in the back of my mind told me that it was because he hadn't asked me or something, but I had no idea why that would bug me. He could kiss whoever he wanted, it wasn't up to me.

There was also the tiniest of voices saying that it was because I really liked him, not completely platonically, and I knew that was true to an extent, but... I had no idea, really. Feelings are confusing and often times I choose to ignore them, such as now.

So I continued to pout. And Dallon looked even more worried.

I eventually just turned away and started walking again, this time faster, trying to walk away from him and hopefully he wouldn't follow. But that obviously wasn't what happened, because Dallon was at my side in a matter of seconds.

"Where are you going?" Dallon asked, not angrily or annoyed, just curious.

"I'm getting my stuff, then I'm leaving," I told him quietly, trying not to make a big deal of it. I just wanted out, and I didn't want Dallon to be upset or try to stop me, because I'd made up my mind that this whole thing was pretty stupid and embarrassing and I just wanted to go home, back to my friends and family. Well, my band and my family. I didn't have many friends.

That was beside the point. I just wanted to leave and make it a quiet little ordeal, just me silently slipping outside and onto the beach with nobody following or questioning.

But Dallon didn't think so. He stopped walking, which gave me an opportunity to speed past him, try to lose him in the crowd of people walking. I'd shocked him for sure, and it was good to have a head start, but I also felt bad, just a little bit.

I mean, he'd been nothing but nice (in a way) to me, and here I was, repaying him by packing my stuff and leaving with no explanation. But I had my own reasons, and it would be better just to leave now before things got too out of hand.

When I reached the alley way where Dallon's bunker was, I turned and opened the trapdoor, then fell onto the net and closed it behind me, not really sure where Dallon was or if I should leave the door open, but I closed it.