I picked up the TV remote and threw it at the wall as hard as I could. How could he? We were still together. Whether we were talking or not, we were still fucking dating. He fucking cheated on me. Lying fucking bastard. He told me he loved me, and I believed it. He said it after he got laid. I'm the stupid one. I was naive, I believed him when he told me, but I shouldn't have. He said he was in love with someone here, but he never said it was me. If it was me, he wouldn't have fucking cheated. I don't blame him, though, I'd cheat on me too. I'm ugly, I'm fat, I sit around doing nothing all day. The only thing I could've done was treat him right. What guy wants that? Oh right, only all of them.
I heard a car door, so I got up and stood in the front doorway.
"Chris!" He smiled. "I-"
"Why the fuck did a stripper answer your phone?"
Link to Playlist: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLoX41a_MRctJmSYxEOEYmmLRKFxSDDhvq
Scarlett is a young tattoo artist in Scranton who by chance meets Chris at a bar she was at with her friends. It was just as simple as that, that is until they start to get more involved with each other, agreeing on a friends with benefits stance to avoid drama of relationships. At least, that's what they had planned. Feelings quickly get involved, but are they equal on both ends?