Sharing the Spotlight *Jelena Ballerina Series* (Part 2)

Chapter 22: You Idiot

Aria's P.O.V.

I burst through the doors and run through the extensive parking lot. As fast as my four-inch heels allow me to run, I'm heading for the busy sidewalks. I just need to be swallowed by the sea of people so I can see various faces that will hopefully take my mind away from Fitch's face. That last look he gave me is tattooed in my head. The audacity for him to call this MY mess. What about us being in this together?

Finally, I find myself on the sidewalk amongst people. This area is extremely unfamiliar to me so I'm not sure where to go from here. I could grab a cab, but I really just can't go back to the apartment yet. Fitch isn't headed there anytime soon, so I might as well take my time too.

From how fast I'm walking and the anger in my steps, I manage to snap my heel. Lopsided, I fall out of foot traffic and find the nearest bench to plop on. Frustrated, I take off my heels and just hurl them onto the floor. From how loud I groaned while throwing my shoes on the ground, I wake up the person that was sleeping on the bench.

They shoot me a horrific look while staring me down. His eyes are absolutely bloodshot. He doesn't look to be more than a few years older than me. However, it's easily identifiable that he's clearly into drugs. Already, his face is a little sunken in and he looks just overall fragile. He's still on his last high, so he's somewhat functioning.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," I apologize and make minimal eye contact with him. There's just so many things to stare at when it comes to this guy. His facial hair is patchy. He's wearing oversized clothes that he's swimming in. He only has socks on.

"No problem, little sister. I've only been here for ten minutes anyway," he tells.

Only ten minutes? Before I interrupted his sleeping session he looked beyond peaceful and in a deep sleep. I wouldn't ever look that at ease only ten minutes into my sleep. Plus all he gave me was one unpleasant look and now he's so happy-go-lucky. Honestly, whatever he's on, I want some of it.

"What seems to be troubling you anyway?" he asks.

He asked and since he's willing to listen, I'm just going to pour my heart out on this bench. Throughout ranting about Fitch, this guy agrees with everything I'm saying. Finally, someone else sees him as the villain here!

"To think it's only eleven a.m. on a Saturday and we've both got stories to tell," he chuckles. Then he begins to tell the tale of his day that started at ten p.m. yesterday then went on to this morning. He's providing elaborate details that I'm not listening to since all I can think about is the fact that it's Saturday.

"Wait, what's today?" I ask, frantically and grab onto his oversized army green coat. He immediately swipes my hands away and tells me to keep my hands to myself since he's off the market.

Ignoring his comment, I question again, "What's today?"

"Saturday!" he answers annoyed.

"No, the date you idiot!"

It surprises me how fast he responds, "Oh, it's July 12th."

"July 12th! Oh no. Oh no. Oh no." With that, I jump up from the bench, barefoot and all, and start to run.

The guy on the bench questions, "Hey! I was in the midst of telling you a story! What's so wrong with July 12th?" That's the thing, I need to figure out if I have an issue with July 12th.

* * *

"Excuse me, if you don't have shoes, then we can't offer you any service," the man behind the counter of the convenience store reminds me. There were at least three signs posted about that for this hole-in-the-wall store.