♡ Or Will You Not? || Cody Carson {COMPLETE}

9. Hypnotized

(man, 2017 was a trip. </3)

"Uknown's" POV:  

I checked the time on my phone and looked around. Nearly every week they came to this place. That was if she wasn't being a whiny bitch and moping in her own self pity that week. Oh and she always was doing that lately.

He was late. Which meant I'd have to wait until the next week to see him. Ugh, I hated her so much.

I frowned and drew on my napkin for a few minutes, just to make sure he wasn't just late due to traffic.

"I told you I didn't want to leave." She whined. I hated her so much.

I looked up and saw him roll his perfect blue eyes. He looked so tired, which I couldn't blame him. He let go of her hand and walked towards me. I felt my face light up. He had finally had enough and was coming to me.

And I didn't even have to try and ruin their "relationship" this time.

I could just imagine how he was going to confess his love. He would run over to me and pick me up in his big strong arms, spin me around, and proclaim to everyone that he had always wanted me. Not that basic ass bitch.

Everyone would be so jealous of us. He'd post about how much he loves me all the time. Everyone would love us. Everyone would want to be us. He'd be so happy with me.  He needs me.

Oh, we'd be the happiest couple to ever exist. There'd be movies and books about our love. Everyone would say that they want a relationship like ours.

I remember when I first saw him, quite a while ago, almost as we were just meeting again. I'd give anything to relive that moment over and over again.

-

I sat there at the dusty booth with the worn out green chairs that smelled like cigarette smoke and took a small sip of my Venti Pumping Spice Cappuccino. It was a cool day, not too hot but not too cold but heavy cloud coverage that made it seem as if it were going to downpour at any moment. If you looked close enough, you could even see faint and tiny dew drops on the windowsill from the early morning hours of dawn.

I gazed out upon the surprisingly busy city street at the small mom-and-pop owned record store across the street. It had seen it's fair share of days, granted with the faded paper flyers dating back from when the store had first opened it creaky doors lining the inner windows. The faded blue paint was chipping away the edges, either due to weather or just the old age of the small building, and the large red neon sign that read "McGahn's Records" was flickering between the beautiful thing called life and the icy tendrils of death.

I had only been in the store a couple of times. The first was when I small child with my father. He had wanted to take me around the city, show me where the best places to hang out were. I, being the small and naive yet excitable child I was, had wanted to go into every shop we came across. My father didn't disagree, he enjoyed our time together after him and my mother had split.

It was late in the evening when we had strolled past the place. At the time the paint was bright with color and had attracted dozens of people inside or around it hourly. I could hear a faint yet still somehow loud tune coming from inside the store. I knew my father was tired and wanted to go home, but I couldn't help but feel pulled to this strange place. When I tugged on his hand and pointed toward the store, he just smiled tiredly and pulled me inside. He had told me this was the last time we were stopping today. I just nodded to let him know I had heard him.

I looked around in awe at all the records lining the walls, shelves, in boxes, and quite a few other places. It had smelled like home, a scent I hadn't smelled since I was forced to live with my grandparents. I didn't mind of course, they were nearly perfect guardians.