The Girl Behind The Lens | S.M. (Discontinued)

Part 24- Scars

"You're inside my head in the middle of the night, when I don't feel right..."

-Shawn Mendes, "The Weight"
~~~

My phone illuminated my dark room, making me squint my eyes for a second. I sat up in my bed, giving me a slightly dizzy. I lowered the brightness before unlocking it. A message appeared. It was from...Chris?

I know you must be feeling shitty. Wanna night off? I got the booze.

Sold.

Good because I am outside your house.

I shot a confused look as I heard a honk from outside.

I can't stay alone for much time, because I might do something more life threatening. Before leaving, I opened my drawer and place about six rubber bracelets along my forearm, to not draw attention at the burn. I decide to leave the famous rubber band behind, hoping I don't regret it later.

I put on my signature leather jacket and head out, grabbing my phone from the couch where I threw it.

"Hey Christopher" I said as I sat on the passenger seat of his Shelby Mustang GT500.

I remember the look on a Chris' face when he told me his dad let him have it for his 16th birthday so he could start his own car collection, but that was the last thing that passed through his brain. He wanted to feel the motor growl and drive it to everywhere he went. It was his dream car and it was like if he won the lottery.

Every since then, he has been obsessed of the car. Cleaning it once a week and not letting anyone touch it, or a fist would break their cheekbone. I don't blame him, it's a beauty.

"It's Chris, Luna. You know this shit" he said and rolled his eyes.

"You know I'm messing with ya" I said as I ruffled his hair, messing his slick hairstyle that was going on.

He shot me a glare as he tried to place it back in place.

"Oh come on. Who brushes their hair for me?" I said and chuckled.

"What...for a piece of trash? I just feel bad for you" he said and smirked as he pressed his foot against the gas petal. I roll my eyes and scoff.

I don't know why but ever since we met, we have always fought and mocked each other. It's sort of our thing.

"Why did you decide to pick me up?" I asked, clearly curious.

It has happened before, but I was the one picking him up, not the other way around.

"I also need the drink, you know what day it is" he commented and stayed silent.

I sighed as everything clicked. It's that time of the year. Of course.

I was gonna say sorry but I know how he hates that so...

"Where's the booze?" I said, changing the topic.

I looked at the back seat, only seeing some black sunglasses and a lighter.

A lighter.

I gulp and turn back around to looking at the road, ignoring what I had just seen. Keep it cool.

"At my house, duh" Chris said as he took a left into the house's big gate, where the security guard greeted us.

The gate opened and Chris drove into the big, glass-covered garage where his dad's beautiful cars where parked.