Chapter 27

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by shelbywrite

by shelbywrite

I locked my phone and threw it onto the couch across the room. I didn't know how I would ever get over this part of my life. I can never see myself getting past this, living my normal life again. It's crazy how love can either make you fly, or shoot you down for good. No one would ever understand my life, how hard it is. I sighed and walked to the spare room, my bedroom, and grabbed my antidepressant pills, swallowing what I knew I would need for today. I grabbed a towel from the hall closet, and headed to take a shower. I needed to wash away my feelings. The hot water trailed down my body, pooling at my feet. I spent an extra amount of time to make sure I was ready to get out and face the world again.

There was just something about showers, they disconnected you from your troubles. I stepped out and wrapped myself in the light blue towel I had grabbed earlier. I was dried and slipped on a new white tank with black Nike shorts in a matter of minutes. I dried and straightened my hair, not wanting to see the curliness of it today, and moved to the living room, sitting down on the couch. I turned on the large flat screen in front of me, and found the news. That was the only thing to watch on a Monday morning. I picked at my nails, a vile habit I had developed. I let my mind flow free, wandering where it pleased. Until I was brought back down, by the oddly disturbing sound of girls screaming and screeching in delight. The sound was not appealing. I brought myself to raise my eyes and look at the screen, but I already knew what it was.

The news reporter was running after a group of guys in tank tops and khakis, asking them questions, with a fake smile on her face. I bet this was the most excitement she ever got, but she didn't enjoy the topic. The background showed a beach, I knew the guys, in the way they walked. The way girls were running and screaming for them. The way they flipped their hair and smiled, realizing there was a camera. I felt sick. "So, boys, tell us, why have you come back to LA for this time. Mr. Caniff?" The news lady handed the microphone to the boy standing in the middle of the group, the one with the highest chin. His shoulders were set in place, his chest puffed out.

He smirked and flipped his brown hair out of his eyes. "Well, of course, we just want some sun, and we are ready to have fun. Maybe meet some girls, ya know?" Chuckle. Hair flip. Hand moves to hip. Girls scream.

"I missed these boys! Since MAGCON, we haven't been together much, there have been many, um, setbacks. Am I right Shawn?" Chuckle. Hands mic to news lady. Moves back into group. Crosses arms across chest. Waves to girls. Turns around, and walks away. What an asshole. I picked up a pillow and threw it at the tv, barely making it shift in position. I grabbed the remote and turned it off. I felt my stomach lurch, and I ran to the bathroom.

After I had gotten sick, and released my anger through screaming off of the balcony outside of the apartment, I felt even worse. How could Taylor say something like that? On television! What nerve he had! I had never known him, but how could he say such a thing? It was directed toward me, I could tell by the tone of voice, and the look that he shot towards Shawn. Shawn. I hated even thinking of his name. But, it no longer gave me the butterflies. All I felt was hatred towards him.

He hadn't even said anything to Taylor, hadn't even nodded to him. He had looked at him, and looked away, an emotionless statue. At least he hadn't said anything more. I knew better than to think it was out of respect. I had lost all respect for him, and I felt it was mutual. I felt it the day he told me he didn't love me anymore, and that it was better for me to leave. That was the day I did leave, and I left all my feelings for him behind, in that small apartment in Toronto.

That night, I was woken up by the sound of my phone buzzing under me, along with howling outside. Yes, howling. This part of the city was dead during the day, but people around here knew how to throw a party. I wiped my eyes and realized I was still on the couch, I had fallen asleep after coming inside from the balcony. I grabbed the phone out from underneath me, and saw that it was only a large number of twitter notifications. I winced and opened them up, afraid of what I might see. I saw the first couple, which were mentions of my name on random tweets.

What ever happened to Mykenna?

She was such a loser anyway, shawn should've picked me at that event not ugly mykenna

Shawn misses her? wtf? SHE PLAYED HIM I COULD TREAT HIM LIKE HE SHOULD BE ugh

I think mykenna has been in hiding ever since the break up lol

I swallowed the growing lump in my throat and looked at the black, shag pillow next to me. Wait, what? The second to last tweet. He misses her? What? Where did that even come from? I searched his name, thinking maybe he...

Sometimes I miss the way you laughed. I miss kissing you, showing you off to the world. I wonder how you are. I'm sorry

It was right there, at the top of his profile. Shawn had posted that, who else could he mean? He had not dated anyone since our break up... it had to be me. Obviously, that's how everyone else saw it too. Why? He couldn't mean this? Could he? Did I even care? No. I didn't. I would never be with that man again as long as I lived. I just couldn't. The old Shawn? Hell yes.

Why was I even thinking of this? He didn't want me. He never did. If he did miss me, I'm just a text message away and he knew that. Plus, Jack knew I was in LA, so he must too. He knew where Cam's apartment was. If he wanted me, he would come get me. I gritted my teeth. I would never even talk to him if he would show his face. After the hell he has put me through, he didn't deserve for me to even look at him. If he missed me, he should of never fucked with my heart.

It was probably some publicity stunt anyway. Just to get girls to swoon over him again, to bring attention to him, to make reporters want to interview him and get the juicy details. It wasn't real. It couldn't be. I looked back at my phone and saw that I had a new message along with hundreds of other twitter notifications. It was from Cam.

From: Cam

Hey hope you're okay, my flight got cancelled, but I can't get a taxi until tomorrow. I'll be back then. Chicago in two weeks instead.

I felt my shoulders rise up. He was coming back. Thank goodness. I couldn't keep doing this every night for a week without him. Now, don't you judge, of course he was unforgivingly awful to me when we were together, and even afterwards, but there was no way I could live without him. An unlikely friend maybe, but I was glad for it. He had stepped up and admitted that he was a horrible guy, and promised to make it up to me. He has been every day since.

I sent back a message, and told him to hurry home. I felt better. But I felt restless. I needed to go for a walk. My sleep schedule was entirely screwed up at this point anyway, as usual. I stole a glance at my phone, it was 11:11. I sighed, remembering how many times I had wished for something, only for it to not come true. I wished anyway this time, because life is short, need to embrace every 11:11 that you get, right?

I stuck my hair behind my shoulders and got up, heading to my closet. It was about 80 degrees or so outside, so sweats would not do. I did not care how I looked, but I wanted to feel nice. I pulled on a pair of shorts, which were barely long enough to even be considered shorts, this was why I never let Cam shop for me, he buys me the flashiest apparel.

I slipped a thick strapped, light pink tank top over my thin white tank. I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled, I looked fine with or without makeup, and my hair was straightened from this morning. I looked the best I had for a while, actually. I didn't know why, but something had come over me, and I felt like I was able to be happy again. Just for tonight. Sliding on a pair of white flip flops, I hopped out into the night, feeling better already, but the aching in my feet to move only increased.