Stars in Your Eyes (Queen/Roger Taylor)

5. Skylar

I'm sitting in the kitchen eating leftover spaghetti when the phone rings. I'm exhausted from my study group, so debate not answering. Finally, I stalk over to the phone and pick it up.

"Hello?"

"Hi." A deep voice reverberates in my ear, and it's as if all the oxygen has vacated my lungs.

Luke.

The last time I saw him, we were both drunk at a friend's birthday party. After 15 minutes of searching for him in the crowd, I'd finally wandered into a bedroom to take a breather. For a few horrifying seconds, I had stood in the doorway watching my boyfriend of several years being deep-throated by a perky blonde. I could still hear his eager moans and see the surprised look on his face when he realized that I was watching him.

"Skylar?" Luke's voice brings me back to the present. I take a deep breath, which comes out as a little gasp. "Are you there?"

"I'm here." I hope that my reply sounds as ice-cold as my heart feels right now.  

"How're things?" he asks casually as if we're best friends who chat every day. My heart starts to thump angrily in my chest as a torrent of curses swirls around in my mind, just waiting to be yelled. Instead, I decide to match his level of calm.

"I'm fine." Just a few months ago, Luke's voice would have made me weak in the knees. Tonight, however, it made me want to punch him in the fucking face. "What do you want?"

"I miss you, Skylar. Look, love, it's been long enough-- you've proven your point--"

I tune out whatever else he's saying, astounded at the arrogance of him to be saying this shit to me. He misses me? Fuck that.

He continues to ramble, but I tune him out. The most annoying part of this was that Luke was meant to be the good guy. He was the dependable boyfriend whom my parents loved and who always remembered birthdays and how I took my tea. He was that guy.

Well, when he wasn't slutting himself out, that is.

A lot had changed in the six months since I'd left him. I'd shut down entirely for a while, only going to class and coming home. Jenny finally managed to pull me back to reality, but I still didn't feel like the same person. My faith in humanity was shattered. I was happiest when I was surrounded by stethoscopes and test tubes, immune from the complex world of human emotion.

"I know-- I know what I did was wrong," Luke's voice filtered into my thoughts. Good God, was he still talking? He gave a long sigh. "Look, I know I shouldn't have shagged those girls. You didn't deserve that."

Girls? Plural?

"But you're it for me, baby," he continued, as my hands start to shake with rage. I can barely hold the receiver in my hand, but he keeps blabbing on, unaware, or unconcerned, about the effect his words are having on me. "Just-- it's all water under the bridge, okay? Let's just figure out a way--"

"I'm going to stop you right there," I interrupt him icily, taking a steadying breath. "I'm not sure why you think I'm remotely interested in what you're saying, but I'm not."

"But--"

"Don't call again, Luke." I slam down the phone angrily. The fucking nerve of him. How dare he--

The phone jangles beside me, causing me to jump. I pick up the receiver, feeling like I'm about to explode.

"Fuck off," I scream as soon as I pick it up. "Fuck the fuck off and leave me the fuck alone."

Slamming the phone down with all my might, I slide down to the floor. Tears stream silently down my face as I look blankly ahead.

"Skylar?" Jenny's face hovers over mine. She must have just arrived home. "What's wrong?"