The Middleman | ongoing

33 | a wet chihuahua injected with cocaine

33 | a wet chihuahua injected with cocaine

Song: Lay It Down by The Rubens

Depicted Above: Deepika Padukone as Leia Kar

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Guilt was circulating through my blood stream. Thanksgiving was a time where the girls, their family, and my aunt all got to hang out. It was a tradition, and a tradition that was now being broken by me.

Ever since Quinn entered the picture, normal constants in my life had been shattered.

Correlation didn't equal causation, but goddamn was this all on him.

Senior year was my final year of toil before escaping most of it all, and yet here I was—frolicking around in corporate affairs as if a seventeen year old like me had any business, pun intended, there.

Why did I seem to invite more chaos into my life? It was like I was practically holding the door open for more fuckery to enter my life.

I bit off more than I could chew.

But there was nothing I could do about it. I owed him this.

I had excused myself out of Thanksgiving dinner, citing a quick last minute college visit as my alibi.

Julia, Sabrina, and Alex were definitely disappointed to not have me there.

But they understood.

My aunt, in hearing my fake travel plans for Thanksgiving, cancelled her flight, postponing her visit to me until Christmas.

Who was even evil enough to hold a convention over Thanksgiving and expect individuals to show up?

It seemed like the head or heads of S&A, the company hosting the Big Little Business Expo, valued money much more over family, but what was new with big name corporations?

Nevertheless, I was accompanying Quinn on his middleman mission at the convention.

Funny how at the drop of the hat my schedule changed for Quinn.

Somehow, though, I didn't regret it.

Despised myself for catering to his needs?

Yes. A little.

Regretted it?

No. I felt an adventure was in store weirdly enough. Maybe this would be exactly what I needed to unwind over the break.

Butterflies were fluttering in my stomach almost causing it to churn.

I couldn't tell if it was nervous energy or excitement coursing through my body. Perhaps both. Whatever it was, I couldn't stop fidgeting. As I waited at the airport gate with Quinn, my fingers were moving on their own accord, twirling around my driver's license. I shoved it immediately into my wallet, scared my dumbass would somehow lose it.

Seated right by me, Quinn was on his phone, most likely checking for weather updates and the status of our flight.

I couldn't understand why I was still squirming like a six year old. My clammy hands grabbed onto the armrests of my seat, hoping for some solace in gripping the rests instead of fidgeting with my boarding pass. "Jesus," I mumbled to myself. "Why the fuck am I bouncing around so much? I look like I'm hopped up on drugs damn." Quinn peels his eyes off from his phone, which was cradled in his lap, a smirk gracing his face, as he turns to look at a very hyper me.