A Perfect Mess

11|

Ever since Jude stepped out that taxi cab, and went home with his older brother, a.k.a Oliver, I never saw him again. It hurts a lot, since I was falling...

Falling...

and,

Falling...

too hard for him and swoosh!

He didn't show up at all.

A text won't hurt.

A call won't hurt.

Showing up and telling me that he's done with me won't hurt...

What hurted the most was not showing up at all.

I haven't eaten since that night. I haven't gone outside my house. I was here waiting impatiently for him, waiting if he's ever going back.

He was just like Lucas, who was only a pigment of my imagination.

I waited till the hours turned to days and days turned to weeks. Weeks flew by and I still haven't forgotten about him. I went back at the bar, hoping that I would caught a glimpse of a blonde hair and a pair of blue eyes, but everytime I got to, it wasn't him.

Tori eyed me from her locker across mine. I stood here for whole fifteen minutes not knowing what to do.

"You seriously need to get your shit together or your fucked up life will even get more fucked and I don't want to see you hurt, girl," she looked up at me under her false lashes, and my heart gave in. I pulled her in a tight hug and my tears left blotches on her yellow uniform.

"I'm just tired of this shit. Everytime I felt loved, everyone goes away. I don't know what's wrong with me," I sobbed, wiping my tears with my fingers. She patted my back and I felt a little calmed after our talking.

She urged me to go at this club nearby, and just for a night, I wanted to forget about him. Maybe, I was born to be this way. Just like how it happened with Philip's loss. I scrambled to pieces until Oliver fixed me up, then leaving me shattered again. I can't. I just can't keep on living with this drama anymore. I need to live again.

After our shift at the bar, we said goodbyes to Jack and Peter. Tori made up my face before leaving the lockeroom and I didn't recognize myself.

Wow. I stared at myself in the mirror, admiring every color applied to perfection.

"You look like a model. I swear if I were a guy, I woyld hit in you with or without make up," she said, brushing my hair.

"Thanks," I told her. But for me, if I were in her position, I'd say the same. Tori had this bluest of blue eyes, and it was the most beautiful I had ever seen. Her hair was brown and red, she almost looked like a mannequin that if you didn't know her, you would be mistaken.

I'm so jealous of her. She hadn't had heartbreaks to deal with, broken life to patch on, no guys...etcetera, etcetera.

She's carefree and free-spirited and that's what I love about her. She gave sense to my living hell life.

We walked on the narrow pavement at a dark alley. There was a neon sign that tells, "Rae's" and the loud sound can be heard from up here. We fell in line behind an old woman who wore to many jewels and a faux fur coat. She smelled like luxury perfume and money. Her black eyeshadow -from her lack of skills - smudged just above her crease. I knew she put too much foundation, hiding all the wrinkles underneath. Maybe she's a cougar.

"Don't stare at her," Tori whispered from beside me, and I just rolled my eyes at her, pushing both hands inside my coat pockets.

"How the hell did you even know about this place?" I asked even if we're still outside, at the end of the line.