"Wait, before you flip out and call the cops, let me explain. I accidentally broke into your apartment last night (he apologetically cringes) because my friend, Ashton, lives next door to you and I was in the area, drunk, and I thought I was climbing into the right window and falling asleep on the right couch (and I did wonder when Ash got a cat but I didn't question it). Dammit, I knew I should've questioned it. And now I'm hungover and shirtless in your living room. So um, hi, howya doin', I'm Luke. Luke Hemmings. You've a lovely couch, by the way"
Voicemail, yet again.
Taking a deep breath, I start the message.
"Hey, I've called you again. This is the last one, I swear. Remember when we would chat forever and ever? We would always drink hot coffee together and talk about our pointless day. It was a daily thing, until you found someone else to occupy your time. I wasn't needed anymore, so you cast me out. I'm in our place, same spot. When you decide to meet me again, I'll be here. I won't talk to you. All that I will spare you is a small glance and some cold coffee."
Ending the voicemail, I collapse back into the chair and wait for the response that will never come.
cover by @xHemmingsHugsx