Timothée [Sequel!] [Timothée Chalamet]

chapter one. timothée.

"Hey Adele, it's me... again. It's been about... 5 days since I last saw you. The look on your face still haunts me. I.. I wanted to say again well— I wanted to say I miss you." Beep.
Fuck. I missed her so much. To think I'd lost something so valuable over something so stupid. To think it was all Carter's fucking fault.

All over the media was pictures of Adele crying from the first time she found out who I was, to the entire airport situation.
My face was plastered everywhere with the words jerk written all over it. Did I deserve it? Hell yeah.
And to make matters worse? Florence was named my secret lover.

My phone was filled with text messages from her.

Florence
Timmy, let me explain. Call
me. Please.

Florence
Please I'll explain everything!

Florence
The way we left off... I can't
live with myself. Call me.

Florence
Timothée!

It was a disaster when she showed up. Every time I think about it I hate myself even more. For the past 5 days my apartment had been littered with cigarette buds and empty glasses of vodka. It had gotten to the point where I was drinking it straight.
I couldn't even think about how betrayed Adele must have felt.

I had been texting and calling her like crazy, trying to get the address of wherever she was staying so I could see her. Even if I didn't know the address I was still going to find her.
If there was anything I knew about Adele, it was how stubborn she was. And if she felt like she couldn't trust me... if I fucked her over again... it was over. And it was.

I had two suitcases packed for my trip to France. I was leaving tomorrow. I was going to make things right.

•

I drank my last glass of wine for the night, watching t.v. and trying to get my mind off of the pain I had caused so many people around me. As I watched, something caught my eye on the coat hanger by my front door.
The stupid black scarf that started it all.
I looked away, keeping my eyes on the t.v.
My fingers tapped on my wine glass nervously as I thought about what lay ahead of me during this trip. I didn't even know where to look for her at. I was just hoping that when I called her to tell her I was in France, she would at least give me a chance.
If I told her what hotel I was staying at, she would come and see me.

I was just hoping she would give me a chance.

In the midst of my hoping, praying and wine drinking, my phone vibrated.

Carter
Tim.

I hadn't talked to him since that night. He hadn't talked to me since that night.
My blood boiled with the thought of even seeing his face. I knew Carter loved to play games, but I never thought he would go out of his way to fuck me over. Never.
We had always been best friends, and even throughout the entire Florence situation in the past, we always had each other's back. But now it was the opposite. I had nothing to say to him.

Carter
How can I make this up to you?

Me
You refrain from texting me.