Say you'll stay - Channing Tatum

P.5

Pictures from Channing Tatum and Cynthia Damon's house party last night is no longer kept for privacy - pictures are out and now we're all wondering the same thing.. Why did the famous moviestar throw a punch towards their common friend? Is it jealousy we see there Tatum?

I close the window to the site that's filling the computer screen. It's everywhere. I run my fingers furthest my pyjama pants, letting my gaze drift along the movement. What did they do after everyone had left? They seemed so happy together before Julian came, before the thought about her being with someone else came into everyone's minds. Especially Channings.

It's scary really, how things can change so fast. How something you believe in can turn out to be a lie and how people you trust show you different. But that's life, isn't it? It's just sad that good people always seem to be the ones that are hurt the most. The reminder of Channing's reaction when he heard the words even hurts me.

Just by looking at him as he sneaked his arm around her waist, proud of her being his just showed how much he loves her. Nothing can be taken away from that. But nothing can either be added to the memory of how his smile dropped at the same second his heart sank to the bottom.

I don't know how their night ended but I remember every part of mine. Madison was straight up drunk. More so than I think I've ever seen her before. She laughed and made jokes all the way home. I didn't complain though. It was a nice change from the heavy atmosphere we left at their house. I sat quiet, but remember myself smiling at some of her lame jokes.

My gaze drifts over to my bed, putting the last part of how last night ended together. A mess of dark hair is laying spread over one of the pillows, being the only thing in sight from where I sit. She'll definitely wake up hangover. It'd be weird if she wasn't by the amount of liquor she swallowed yesterday.

My feet pad over the floor to sit down on the other side of the bed. I grab a magazine before I scoot back to lean against the headboard. I restlessly flip through the pages, trying to find something that'll catch my attention. Nothing. How on earth is she still asleep. I've been up for more than two hours already, reading probably every article there are. 

"You're already up?"

A smile spreads over my lips as I turn my head to look at her. She's squinting so bad I'm surprised she's even able to see me.

"It's almost twelve." I answer her, holding the smile. Not that I'm shocked over how long she's been sleeping really, but the fact that she looks like she's still drunk makes me laugh. I watch as she buries her face in the pillow and groan.

''Do you want breakfast? I can cook if you join me in the kitchen.'' I say, closing the magazine and placing it beside me on the bed. She lets out yet another loud groan. "Come on."

We slowly make our way out of my room and toward the kitchen.

"I feel like shit." She says as one of her arms lands over my shoulder. I turn to look at her, only to be met by a lazy smile pulling on her lips. "And I need a shower".

"You definitely need a shower." I repeat and she laughs.

The air is filled by the usual smell of coffee as we reach the kitchen. My mom is standing by the fridge, her face hidden behind her short hair.

"Did you have fun yesterday?" She turns to us with a smile, placing a glass of juice on the counter.

"Yes, very." I return her smile.

I'm so grateful for our relationship, but this is one of those things that reminds me why I really should move out. I love her to bits and pieces, that will never change, but I need my own space. Somewhere I can wake up and go to bed without her being around.

Madison has already taken a place at the table, ready to dig in. She looks ridiculous. Her hair is standing in every possible direction and she's still wearing yesterdays makeup. I can't help but grin.

"What?" She asks as her attention is drawn to me.

I walk over to the chair next to her, shaking my head. "Nothing." I say, but the smile on my lips can't be helped. This reminds me of the time when we used to do this type of things every day. It was year ago and much has changed these few past years, but some things are still the same.

"God, what the hell did I do to deserve this?" Her head lands in her arms on the table.

"What did you not do." I laugh.

Her head remains steady in her arms as she mumbles the words I never could. "I can't remember shit from yesterday. I don't even remember going out."

I can't tell if she's being serious or not. Her not remembering has happened before, but she must be joking.

I find myself staring at her when her expression changes to worried. How much did she really drink? She have to remember. The images are imprinted in my mind, not intended to leave any day soon.