Love Is Symphony |✓

| 29 |

"I knew it! I freaking knew it!" Imogen was pacing back and forth, her hands fisted over her fiery red hair. "I totally called it! No decent guy would date another woman if he already has a girlfriend."

"Miranda's not his girlfriend. I already told you this. It's all for show."

Imogen made a show of rolling her eyes. "Jeez. Of course—how could I forget? You agreed to be his girlfriend on a down-low because he has a career to establish. Sure, because he's the next Justin Bieber. Oh, maybe when he's already as popular as he is, you can finally break free from hiding and makeout with him on public."

My jaw tightened. Suddenly the idea of coming to Imogen after talking to Phoebe to seek comfort had become ridiculous. I was so stupid. Imogen was the least sympathic person I knew with regards to our relationship. She hated you, Sean.

"I'm not here for your scolding, Imogen. I think I made a mistake by telling you this."

She spun around, brows raised and a scowl on her cherry-coated lips. She looked livid. "What the fuck do you expect—me cooing over your relationship? I would've been ohh-ing and ahh-ing if he's treating you right! What are you—his mistress? Your relationship isn't even in its cupcake phase, yet it's already so messed up."

Damn it. I've had enough. I was so tired of proving myself wrong—that everyone else was right except me. That maybe being with you was a huge mistake.

"Don't you think I'm aware of that?" I spat. Rising from my seat, I straightened my back and glared at her with glistening eyes. "Do you think I'm ignorant of the fact that I don't deserve this kind of relationship? He lied to me! He told me that the management doesn't know! That we could do whatever we like on his free time. Do you think I'm stupid enough not to realize what this means?! I know, Imogen. I know! I'm now perfectly conscious of the reality that our relationship would never have its freedom, because he's controlled by his fucking team!"

Eyes softened by my admission, Imogen walked over toward me and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. I sank back into my seat, feeling spent and sobbed into my hands. "I know that. But I can't leave. It's stupid, because in every relationship that I had... I. Can't. Fucking. Leave. No matter how much they've hurt me."

Imogen grabbed a chair and dragged it to sit beside me. We were silent for a long moment, eyes focused on the small green lockers that lined Infusion's staff room. I felt her gaze burn on the side of my face.

"What?"

"What do you plan on doing?" She sighed and leaned back in he seat.

I remembered Phoebe's offer. Right after we parted she promised me that if I came, they'd help me understand what was going on. I know someone who can explain to you why he's this way, she had said, her lips just a shy away from her coffee cup. There was no question, if I wanted to get even a gist of what was going on, this would be my best shot.

"I'm going."

Imogen's brows furrowed together in confusion. "Where are you going?"

"I'm coming to Phoebe's party," I said with more conviction this time. I turned to look at her. "I need to know exactly what's going on, and only she could help me."

Disbelief and disagreement were clearly written on Imogen's face. "Are you freaking serious, Ser? You barely know these people. Your so-called boyfriend haven't even introduced you to them. What makes you think they're trustworthy? I say, block his number and get out of this mess before it gets too much to handle."

"I can't. You know I can't do that."

"And why the fuck is that?"

My eyes fell to the crack that ran along the middle of a corner white tile, breath held as I tried to think of a way to tell Imogen the truth without her lashing out on me. Suddenly I felt ashamed of my reasons; of my truth. She'd think that I was stupid, that I was naïve and impulsive. But I wasn't—I knew I wasn't. But... was I?