Daydreaming

Steve H.

9

Leaning on my tip toes, I kiss my boyfriend of almost two years sincerely as he leaves for his 5th business trip in the last three months. "I'm sorry honey. A bunch of papers need to be filled out, and I'll meet up with the CEO of the company. It's very exciting, but I don't want my last thought of you to be of these tears falling down your cheek," he swipes the pad of his thumb under the bag of my eye. "I'm sorry. I'll be fine, I swear. Just be safe. I better get a souvenir!" I laugh half heartedly. He titles my chin up, and softly kisses me once more, "Okay. I have to go or I'll be late to my flight. I love you." With one more peck, he hustles out the door with his brown leather briefcase swinging by his side. Oddly, I see what looks like black lace hanging from the crack of the seal on the case. I ignore the incident, then the door barely closes when I'm sobbing.

Later that night, I order Chinese for dinner, and invite my friend, Chelsea over. We sat on my couch with 17 Again on the Television. "You need to perk back up!! You cannot go to work tomorrow being a sob monster. Here we have a young Zac Efron being cute as hell, and you keep sniffling." She exclaims each word with her hands waving in the air. I roll my eyes and stand up stretching my arms, "I know. You've been saying that for the last hour. It's whatever though. I'm over crying." I pick up the empty cartons, and carry them to the trash bin to throw them away, Chelsea follows right behind. She grabs a bottle of red wine from the rack in the bottom of the pantry. "Well if a hot guy isn't going to cheer you up, then maybe this will." She shakes the bottle with a mischievous grin on her face. I shrug my shoulders in response, and reach in the cabinet for glasses. A pop sounds from the cork just as I turn around to set the glasses down. Filling each cup half way with the red liquid, Chelsea slides the poison to me.

"I'm so fancy! You already know! I'm in the fast lane-" I'm joined with my intoxicated friend on the coffee table. "From LA to Pokéo!" I stop dancing and stare at her as she missed up the obvious lyrics. "Chelsea. You stupid bitch! It's 'from LA to Tokyo!" I burst in laughter from her mistake, because her expression is baffled making me fall on the tan couch. "Oh well. At least I don't have a tie wrapped around my head!" I reach around my head and pull Stan's satin tie from my forehead then whip it across the room. She joined me on the couch laughing, with just as much enthusiasm as I. Moments later we were red in the face, tears in our eyes, and our bellies ache from the stupidity that is us. Needless to say, I was better than before, but only for a short while until I feel asleep cuddled with my best friend.

-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-

My finger rapidly presses my phones alarm clock, before any much more discomfort could come to me. 7:00 AM. Aw geeze, I don't wanna get up, but I reek of alcohol and stickiness. "Chelsea, get your fat butt up!" She doesn't bother moving an inch. "Get out of my apartment. You'll be late to work, and I don't want the hole place stinking like you." One of her golden eyes ease open, she closes it back again, and takes a long breath and stretches her arms. Without a word she heads straight to my kitchen to make coffee. Ah, love that girl. She lives right across the hall, so I can just have her whenever I need her. I stand up, and continue on with my morning activities.

Black heels in hand, I swing down to an empty flat. Nobody is here. I'm all alone. She left me a cup of steaming coffee on the table next to the news paper. Flipping through, I see nothing important. I get to the obituaries, and find one of the handsomest men I've ever seen. His blonde hair is in a perfect quiff, and his smile is very apparent to be blindingly white. His shoulders square, and a very prominent Adam's apple. His cause of death was a drunk driver slammed into him. "Steve Harris.." I mumble. I'm sadden this man has passed at such an expense. Suddenly, I hear a persistent ringing. That's Stan's phone! He left it on the counter. That idiot. Wait. I look at the caller ID. Jessica? Who is that? The screen goes blank, telling me either she hung up or is leaving a message. I down my cup of coffee before setting it back into the kitchen sink. The screen lights up, and a message bubble appears.