After he finished changing, I hopped up on the counter desk with him, telling him everything, from my boyfriend problems, to my broken family, to my shitty job, and my troubled adolescence.
"...It's not his fault, he probably feels bad for me and puts up with me. As for my parents, we never really got along. They fought a lot. They never could understand that not everyone has the same opinions. So I sort of got lost and found myself in drugs. I remember I once ran away, I ended up getting beat in an alley. The cops found me and brought me home and all I got was a lecture on how I was immature. My brother...hit me. A lot. I don't really know why. He would come home from parties drunk as fuck and would just.... I moved out as soon as I could. I had to get this job to survive. My boss drives me insane. She's so completely controlling and I'm pretty sure Keath slept with her...I just...I don't know."
I don't really know why I told him. I always felt that showing emotions meant you were weak. But he was willing to listen, so I did.
The whole time he sat silently, occasionally nodding. He surprisingly stayed interested the whole time, letting me speak to the very end. When I finished explaining, he let out a huge sigh, lying back on the desk.
"What. The. Fuck."
I sighed as well, looking at my side. I just told a complete stranger my life story, and I had no clue out to feel about it. Maybe it was good that I got it all out. Or, maybe it was bad that I was rambling to someone that I had just met an hour ago. I probably annoyed him.
"And just how the hell did you get through that without killing anyone?" he asked, looking over at me.
I laughed a bit, "I don't even know," I replied, falling back on the desk. I faced him to keep eye contact with him. "I found some comfort in music. And I guess I just got so tired of it that I stopped caring. What's the point in trying when there's nothing to achieve?"
"Bullshit."
The room grew quiet with the two of us just staring at each other. I didn't know what to say and neither did he.
"I mean..." He muttered, getting comfortable and moved around a bit. "There's got to be SOME reason why you've held on for so long. Look at you, you're...perfect! You're gorgeous, you're genius, you're-"
I stared blankly as he rambled on. "Flattery will get you nowhere," I interrupted, sighing in disappointment. I really hated liars.
"I'm not complimenting you, I'm telling the truth." He paused, pouting, his hand slipping into mine.
"You've known me for an hour, don't act like you care about me."
"Don't act like I DON"T care about you, because I DO,"
I stared back in annoyance. "You expect me to believe that? That you actually give a shit about me?" I yelled, sitting up. " You just act like you care. You'll screw around with me first but you'll leave. I'm sorry, but I'm not into that anymore."
"I would never-"
"Never what?" I hissed.
He sat up and stared at me again. He knew that made me weak but he did it anyway. I didn't have anything to say. I got up off the desk and back around the counter to pay.
"Just pay for your stuff and leave."
