Racing Down Sunset Boulevard

Chapter 5

I lost track of the time I spent on my floor, a flurry of contradictory thoughts running a hundred miles an hour, making my head spin. I felt tempted to reach for the Xanax I kept handy in my bedside drawer, if only for some momentary relief. Just as I was weighing whether momentary relief was worth suffering through the nausea and headache sure to follow the next morning, I felt my phone vibrate against my leg, pulling me out of my stupor. Hastily pulling it out with shaky fingers, convinced it would be Gage with some courtesy apology to put my mind to rest, I was perplexed to find Nate's name flashing across the screen. Yet not in any measure disappointed. Rather, I felt strangely exhilarated.

Nate: Hey beautiful. Just checking up on you simply because I find myself missing that smile. I wonder if you'd grace me with it later tonight at the premiere of Aladdin :)?

I read the text. Then proceeded to rub my eyes, plop my glasses back on, and reread it. I've only just met this guy, and he already acts more gallant than Gage ever did, and perhaps ever will. But despite his crudeness, I've known Gage for over a year, and I love him. Wouldn't taking the proposition of a handsome stranger mean cheating? If Gage found out, wouldn't he finally have a sound reason to walk away from me?

            Me: I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but I'm currently dating someone.

I let loose a pained sigh. Well, that was that. As I wasn't expecting a text back, I went to plug in my phone, finally picking myself off the floor. Yet I was a step away from collapsing back down when a moment later, I got a notification from the same number.

Nate: I would've been a fool to believe otherwise. It doesn't have to be a date if you don't want it to be. I just want to see you again, even if only as a friend.

That was all I need it to make up my mind. I needed this just as badly as I still needed a Xanax. Yet, the former didn't seem to hold any side effects. Not any that I could foresee by that point, anyway. Plucking up my dignity and the few shards of courage I possessed. I texted him back. Distantly, a passing thought questioned how he'd gotten hold of tickets for a movie sold out months in advance.

            Me: So, what time do you pick me up?

Nate's POV

Hearing Gage storm into the apartment was normally my cue to pause the movie currently playing on the tv and make a swift exit before he started interrogating me about why I was lazing on his couch, despite him telling me I'd be welcome at any time. To be fair, I had taken that statement quite literally. But today, I felt like something good could come out of listening to him rant aimlessly, so I settled more deeply into the couch as he came as he went right past me and straight to the kitchen, most likely to fix himself a drink.

Hearing the tell-tale sound of vodka spilling in a full-sized glass, I let him cool off, mindlessly picking at my nails until I could hear heavy footsteps making their way back to the small living room. "What happened?" I asked conversationally, fully knowing my obvious disinterest would send him ranting, as his ego could never phantom a lack of interest for him and his issues in any given situation from anyone. Spoiled brat.

            After spending the better part of an hour listening to him go from ragingly angry to tearfully apologetic as he got progressively more drunk with the help of two more refills of his glass (provided by your one and only, of  course) I could finally see a course of action form. After that scene, there is no way in hell even Ariana would go out for the Aladdin premiere with Gage, who had been planning it for months and had gotten the best seats available. So I couldn't let such perfectly good tickets go to waste, could he?

Looking at Gage was a pitiful experience. Huddled up on the couch, clearly drunk and clutching a pillow while crying his eyes out and muttering nonsense apologies along with the occasional "Ari", I could feel a flick of disgust coat my expression for the pathetic being in front of me. Despite it all, I was fairly certain he loved the girl, if only from the way he spoke of her voice, her smile, and pretty much every single detail he would randomly recall. From his form of presentation, I'm pretty sure anyone would've become just as enamored with Ariana. Too bad his ridiculous insecure nature and caustic personality made him want me to award him  the title of shittiest boyfriend.

He didn't even notice when I slipped out of the living room and into the hallway leading to his room, or when I shut the apartment door with a click, carefully placing to pieces of paper in my coat pocket. Now, on the metro back home, thanks to the power of Spotify I was listening to a ridiculous excuse of a soundtrack, yet I plowed through, starting to mouth the lyrics after my second try.

Ari's POV        

I've always imagined going on a date with the right person would feel effortless. But experience with Gage had taught me that nothing ever works out as depicted by books A stranger checking me out couldn't be ignored, and neither could my somewhat new habit of keeping my phone on full volume so I wouldn't miss any of his texts or calls, only to have it dings embarrassingly in a dead quiet cinema. I had come to question whether the romance writers were delusional, or simply purposefully toying with us by making everything seem painfully easy.

But after only a short two and a half hours with Nate, I suddenly wasn't so sure. Nate didn't seem to have a problem with my phone pinging thrice as I finally received some lame (yes, I'm starting to think its lame) apology from Gage for his behaviour. Instead, he seemed intrigued and even tried to tease me about it, until one of the couples behind us complained and I was forced to turn my phone off.

But the most surprising was his ability to sing every lyric with bewildering accuracy, despite him being off-key at times and laughing so hard other times that I could barely make out his words. His laughter was endearingly contagious as well, and soon enough I was laughing alongside him, with complete disregard of the strangers giving us the side-eye for being so obnoxiously loud. In that moment, watching a silly movie in a packed room, and being so loud myself, my anxiety should've skyrocketed from the sheer number of disapproving stares. Instead, I felt strangely liberated. Distinctly, I wondered if this is what Kaylah meant when she told me that with Gage, I wasn't really living, but submitting. I decided to give her a call, and mend things with her as soon as I got home.

Fuck Gage. And this time I only mean it in the metaphorical sense.