People made mistakes, but it's how they react that makes a difference. Those who try to hide their mistakes are the ones who suffer the most, even if they don't realize it. Those who air out their dirty laundry may be ridiculed but in the end they can leave and move on with a clean conscious.
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Lance woke up, but it was different than usual. For one, he had a pounding headache, it also smelled different. much lighter, like lilac and soap, different from the usual cinnamon and fruit his house consistently smelled of.
It was still dark out, and when he sat up a limp arm fell from his chest to his lap. The hand was small, with short, frail fingers and nails that were long and pink. There was a small alarm clock next to him with numbers that were a bright red, "1:30 A.M." but Lance was far too distracted and dizzy to see it.
He slunk out of bed, carefully placing the hand down onto the covers, there was a light drizzle of rain, and while he didn't remember that night he knew he was hungover and in a strange woman's bed, a woman who would have resembled CJ, but CJ was far less frilly, she liked vibrant things, her nails were stubs and she despised the scent of flowers.
He didn't know the woman's name, she had longer hair than CJ, but they both had a fiery red locks, CJ' s was straighter. The stranger's features were softer, with a pointier chin. Lance knew he had to get back home, CJ was afraid of storms, especially in hurricane prone Florida.
Lance grabbed his shirt and socks, slipping them on, then his sneakers, which made a sad face as they sagged in his hands, they were old, CJ had given him them when they had first met. How would he explain this? His hair was a blonde catastrophe, as he saw in his phone's reflection when he called a cab .
When he got in the cab he mumbled his address, the scraggly guy nodded. Lance rubbed the patchy stubble on his face, that had grown in. CJ loved his stubble, even though he hated it. She would pet his face like a puppy dog, and frowned when he shaved, he would tell her maybe next time he would grow it out. She would smile and he eyes would crinkle around her blue irises, and then she would kiss the space between his jaw and neck.
The cab pulled up, all the lights were off in the small house, the rain had stopped, but the streets were still damp and shiny. He pulled his key out of his pants pocket, and when he entered he heard the squawking of CJ' s cockatoo, she got the bird before they moved in together. When he flicked the light switch nothing happened, the power was out.
"Lance? Is that you?" Her voice made him jump, she took small silent steps until she collided into his back. "Hi."
"Hey CJ, when did the power go out?"
"Just a few minutes ago. You smell like booze, you need a shower."
"Yeah." The lights flickered on. CJ was small, leaning on his back she was eye level with his shoulder blades, she could lean her forehead on the back of his neck, her hair barely brushed her shoulders. "Why don't you go to bed, I need to talk to you in the morning."
"Okay, I love you." She planted a quick kiss on his lips, and then was gone, with the swish of his old baggy shirt she slept in. He slipped into the shower, shedding his jeans and T-shirt. He had created a mess, with a girl who loved him unconditionally. What a fuck-up.
The water washed over him, bringing his senses back, he grabbed the first bottle he could reached and put whatever it was onto his blonde mop. It was sour apple body wash, CJ always got it, from the children's section. He stood there for a long time doing nothing, until the hot water ran out, springing him awake. He wrapped a towel around his waist, and made his way to the bedroom, across the hall.
