I Hate You

06. "you are a nightmare"

Back in the office today, the day starts off very slow. My mind remains foggy from the night before, considering I went to bed way past my bedtime. I glance over at Brandon from my desk only to find his eyes glued to his phone, without a care in the world. He chuckles loudly, forcing my attention. "What are you laughing about?" I groan.

"This girl I hooked up with yesterday after you left, we're just texting and she's hilarious." He sets his phone aside and pretends to return to his work, though I can see his program isn't even open. I roll my eyes so far back I'm afraid they'd fall out.

"My shirt is on backward" I realize how in my hungover state I messed it up this morning. Not only that but my desk is a cluttered mess, and I hate mess.

"Just take it off," he murmurs, though since it's just us in the room, I hear him loud and clear. He bites back a smile and fixes his unkempt hair by sweeping it to the side.

"Of course you would say something like that," I chew his ear off. "It's your fault this happened anyways. You're a terrible influence, making me go out and drink on a Monday."

"It was just a joke relax," he paints a disgusted look on his face. "I think I liked you better when you were drunk."

I scoff.

He's unimpressed, with his chin resting in the palm of his hands. He clicks his mouse almost way too aggressively.

I'm not always the best dressed, you could even call me bland, I wouldn't care. I know my style is obviously nothing compared to that of Max or what someone like Sarah would wear. I wear boring long sleeve shirts and blue jeans, but I enjoy it. It's all I know and it's what's comfortable for me.

I learned quite quickly that in high school it was the pretty girls, with their long flowing straight hair and perfect bodies that got the attention from the boys. I was never fully happy with my body, so I hid it, at all costs. And why would I want to be admired for that anyways?

Now I quite enjoy sitting in my small little bubble, not gaining any unnecessary attention.

I see Brandon for who he truly is now. Last night was a mistake and it never should've happened. I have a job and responsibilities, unlike him. He's a player, who he breaks rules, and he's conceited. He's completely breathtaking in looks which he uses that to his advantage, no doubt. It's those eyes that could reel anyone in. And the way they mesmerize you.

But the spell has been broken and it's time to get back to reality.

"Your editing is shit, by the way, I looked over some of your files." He adds in, just to make me boil over.

"I asked you to clip them. Why couldn't you just stay on task?" I press the temples of my forehead to soothe my firing headache.

"Because I wanted to look at the big picture."

"Ugh, you are a nightmare." Just like that, I'm filled with rage. He's still the same annoying guy.

"Wow that quick, huh? Glad to know you're back to being stuck up."

//

After a frustrating chat with my boss who's disappointed in me because she expects everything to be done 12 weeks ahead of time, I packed up my things angrily. Brandon had already left the office by that time, thankfully.

That's the last thing I have on my mind before I finally walk out of the building to go home. I feel intense frustration. I may seem stuck up and set in my ways, but that's not how I intend to appear. I'm just focused and I know better than to waste my time on foolish things.

He sees me in the parking lot and looks away immediately, putting on his helmet. We walk away in opposite directions, me towards my car and him towards his motorcycle.

I end the day on such a bad note I decided to treat myself to some coffee from this quiet little bakery a few blocks from my house.

It's small, it's out of sight, and it's simple. Just how I like it.

I walk back with my cold drink in hand, the sound of ice jingling with every step I take.

Oh how far these shoes have walked, and given the chance, I know someone like Brandon wouldn't make it a single day in mine. The wind cools my flushed cheeks.

It's quiet, it's serene, and it's sunny. Just the way I like it.

I look down at my black polished ballet flats. No way I'm letting any guy make me feel like I need to change something as superficial as my appearance. And I'm absolutely not letting his rude attitude spoil my night. Especially not my future.

I'm just going to have to deal with him in the most mature way possible. The only way I know how.

I'm backkkk, I promise it will get more interesting soon :)