I did not even know when the hour of crying turned into the whole night. I felt that I could not turn to anyone. Tash was in Hawaii with her new boyfriend, and my sister was busy with Freddie since she moved to the States. She was divorcing her psycho husband, so I preferred not to burden her.
So I tried, after a long reflection, to call the only person who could help me and whom I trust in immensely.
"K-kras?" I was sobbing softly when he answered "Clinton... is he... maybe... with you?" I asked, worried. Even though we argued, I was still scared for my boyfriend. I did not want him to do something stupid or hurt himself.
"What happened...? Yo, I'll check, "he replied, walking somewhere because I heard the sound of flapping flaps" Mitchel?!"
"What do you want?!" Mitchel shouted back.
" Is Clinton here?" Asked blond.
"He's not here," the dark-haired man said from a little closer.
I broke down in tears, sitting on the floor beside the bed.
"Angeline, what's going on?" Asked blond.
"We had a fight" I swallowed tears "And he left the house saying that he was going to your house and... And he told me to call when I stop being a bitch. He called me a Bitch, Christian..."
"He probably did not mean it, Angeline. He loves you and will come back for sure. He must cool down, I know him. It's probably at the bar. I will find him, I promise. And I promise that I text you when I find him" he assured me.
"I love him and I do not know what I'll do without him. I didn't wanted to be so horrible for him.
He just needs a moment to himself, don't take it too seriously. Clinton can be cruel sometimes, but he never does it on purpose."
"Find him and tell him that I did not mean what I said... He just annoyed me" I took a deep breath, hanging up.
Clinton's pov
The drinks after the drinks allowed me to relax and slowly soothe my nerves. Some girls came up to me, but I just could not make any conversations. Some were very obsessive and hung on me, asking why I was feeling depressed. A few years ago, I would have benefited from this privilege, but now it just was pointless. I was in a stable relationship and had a child - it would be stupid, to waste the trust of Angeline and never get it back again.
I knew she was jealous. Putting myself in her position, I would also be. There are many girls around us, I'm away from home, and she does not know what's really going on, except what she hears through the phone.
I was frustrated with what I said, she did not deserve to talk to her like that, but I did not deserve from her to mock my passions and job at the dinner and forbid me from talking about myself as if she was afraid of making her ashamed in front of her aunt.
Upset, I got up caught in the buzz again, going unsteadily to the exit. I leaned against the wall, right at the door, to stabilize the spinning of my head, and then I found myself on the street. I got in the car, wanting to start the engine.
However, when I tried to get involved in traffic, something hit my mask.
"Clinton, fuck, stop!" a drunken voice called from outside.
I looked with unconscious eyes, noticing Patrick Wilde behind the glass.
"What...?" I rubbed my eyes in surprise "Pat...?"
"Guys and Angeline are looking for you," he shouted, opening the door and getting into the passenger seat.
"Rats" I muttered under my breath.
"We're going to the boys', I'm going to get you there safely," said Patrick quite seriously.
"You have to get me to them?"I looked at him almost dying of laughter" I think I am getting you there, see how drunk you are."
"It does not matter, my dear Clinton," he pointed his index finger at me, muttering, "You're my son, ya shit"
"Back at it again" I rolled my eyes, cackling.
We drove to Beverly Hills listening to my strongest compilation, which was blasting real loud, because I had no mood for talking to Patrick. I could see images in my head, memories of our fight. I still heard the echo of her words.
I hate you.
In an impulse I accelerated, tightening my hands on the steering wheel so much that my knuckles whitened.
It was really too fast to slow down right now.
Suddenly, I heard the sound of a siren behind me, and the car illuminated the lights of the patrol car. I had to stop.
I knew it would not end well.
Angeline's pov
I tried to sleep. It was three o'clock in the morning when I got a phone call from... Pat?
I received in a fraction of a second.
"Angeline? I don't have much time..." I could hear the takeover and confusion in his voice.
"What happened, Pat? Something with Clinton?" I asked, feeling my heart beat quickly.
"They arrested us, we are at the police station kept for 24 hours, Clinton has already called the boys, but I think that you should also come..." he explained.
"What happened?" I was stupefied. What did they do?
"You'll find out," said Pat, disconnecting himself.
"Pat, damn it!" I growled, throwing the phone.
I had to go there as soon as possible.
////
Are you pissed at Clinton?
