I throw the bags down on the couch in complete rage and scrub my fingers through my hair. It’s been a bad day at school, a day I should never have endured and just stayed home with Arry again. He insisted I don’t miss any more days for him, and he promised to have dinner ready for my coming home. All day everything has just gone wrong and my partner Yvette was driving me insane with her veiled bitchiness and the constant asshole glances from my peers.
I get it! None of them like the annoying yank on a scholarship placement, it’s not exactly fucking new. I understand the jealousy, but why do they have to constantly make me feel like they do? I’m not one for being bullied by stupid girls but this is done in such a snide low way, never to my face, never anything coming back to me, so I know what they are saying. Just looks, smirks and whispers. I can’t stand any of them and I miss my real friends back home. I’m deflated, angry, upset and just
I throw the fabric across the room at the back of Olivia’s head and try not to completely self-combust at the little bitch who has been goading me all day. I’ve had enough with all this shit lately. She spins in shock as it hits her and glares at me as though she hates me, which she probably does… She is one of the ringleaders in this class and is forever pulling me up and singling me out.“You are so going to burn for that.” She sneers at me and takes off in the direction of our lecturer Claude in the far corner. I just glare after her, unphased by this constant barrage of snide bullying from my own personal mean girls. I have learned to stand my ground and ignore them for the most part.Arry has only been gone four days and I am counting every second until he gets back. The stress of this show is killing me as I’m doing everything alone. Everyone else paired up and helped each other out, but I have had non-stop obstructions and bi
I get up from the bed a little lack luster and decide to change before I go through and eat, pulling open my wardrobe to find a fluffy Onesie and can’t resist running my hands across his row of shirts hanging to the side. Arrick has changed a lot in the past months in terms of how he dresses day to day, spending more time in shirts and pants because of his constant back and forth and less time looking like the casual preppy college boy that he used to be when we stayed in New York. I guess because he had to buy more ‘work’ clothes when he started spending the majority of his life in the office and left all his casual stuff in the back of the wardrobe and less accessible. I miss it, I miss him looking like my casual fighter and laid-back hot boy. He is starting to mimic his father and brother in style.Lately he looks like a businessman; more groomed, more manicured, and always in shirts. I miss his jeans; I miss his sweats and trainers. I just miss everythin
“Look, I already told you to stay away from me. There is no need to come over here and touch any of these fucking dresses at any time. Now go over there and deal with your own shit before I seriously snap and you meet a side to me I’ve been keeping under wraps this year. I will fuck you up and you won’t like it.” I snap at Melissa, the mousy brown-haired devil’s side kick to Olivia’s crew, as she once again makes a play at eating her greasy food beside my hanging rail of dresses.We are backstage to where we’re having our show and setting up for tomorrow. Hours ticking down, prepping all this, and getting everything set out, with shoes, accessories and all the sketches of how the models are to be styled in hair and makeup is being pinned to each garment. I ran out of garment bags mid-way through my collection, even though I bought enough of them and know for a fact they have been stolen by some bitch or another.&ldquo
I take in my tired pale reflection and sigh again as Janetta fusses around out in the lounge laying out my clothes. She offered to come with me to my show after she found me crying and ended up telling her why I was so upset. She tried to defend him, of course she would, as she adores the very ground he walks on, much like most people who know him. I block her out. Just so low, deflated, and empty.It feels like going to graduation and having none of your loved ones show up for you. Or a birthday bash where your best friend doesn’t bother to show face.I told her it was okay, I would rather just face this alone, get it done and come home and avoid the after party. Biggest moment in my year just became something I have to endure and wish I didn’t have to go at all. I want it to be over and done with, so I can forget it all.There’s a knock on the door, even though it’s only eight am and I look around in confusion from my open bedroom door.
“It’s over… I can’t believe it’s over.” I gush at Christian as we stand by the wine glass display and help ourselves to a glass of white. The room fast filling with the audience as they exit the catwalk area and into the banquet with us; the designers have been pensively awaiting their arrival after each slot saw us put in here out of the way.My slot was over almost three hours ago, and we have been in here sipping on wine and nervously picking at food, too uptight to even watch my fellow students’ collections from the wings. Not that I want to watch any of them, having had enough of them all year long and their incessant ass wipe ways. We had the room mostly to ourselves until the show ended, seeing as they all wanted to watch each other and root for their friends so now it’s filling up, the full force of anxiety hits me hard.I grasp Christians arm tightly as the very obvious flow of important people come into t
“You need to call Arry and tell him, Baby-girl. You can’t just run out of school and not go back.” Christian is sitting stroking my hair as I lay on the couch with my head on his lap, looking down at me soothingly as I compose myself.I’ve cried, raged, regretted and so much more. We drunk so much wine everything is swimming around me and I’m just a mess. I’m drunk, and Christian has refused to move even though his flight back to London means he needs to leave soon. He has helped demolish Arry’s expensive collection of booze he likes to stock in his overly expensive wine rack and I just don’t care. I sit up, swaying lightly as I do so and grasp his hand.“I will, when he comes home… Just right now. I need to let this sink in, and to sleep this off. I need time to think. What if he presses charges? I mean, I assaulted him, Chris” I stare at him imploringly and wipe my hand across my messy face once
The flight is long and depressing. I barely sleep at all and now after two nights of zero sleep I am a walking zombie as I push my way through the people exiting JFK airport onto the street in the hopes of finding a cab. It’s still another thirty minutes or more in a car back to Manhattan and I’m literally seeing double with fatigue. It’s around seven a.m. now, the sky bright with a new day and cold as hell. You can tell there has been a recent bout of storms and snow, due to how icy the air around me is and I swear it’s colder than Europe right now. Never thought that was possible.I’m so beyond happy to be back on American soil, my feet planted on familiar sidewalks and looking around at people who sound like home. If we move our ass we will get to my apartment before Arrick leaves for work and I’ll get a chance to shock him with my presence and give him a piece of my mind.I may still be due him some mad Sophie, but really, now al
I stay that way, cocooned in him, hiding myself from everyone until I sense the change of surroundings and the lack of moisture on my head. The ping of the elevator to signal he has opened the doors and we are safely closed inside away from prying eyes.I lift my chin and glance at him from my angle, catching his eye as he smiles at me softly. He looks pale, wary and I realize he is still worrying about what I am thinking about. I’m too quiet, too introverted for his liking and he is thinking the worst. He hates when I close up and don’t tell him what I am feeling.“I love you.” He says it so seriously, so pointedly as he looks deep into my eyes and I realize without a doubt that Arry would never hurt me this way. He hasn’t got it in him to look at me with such conviction and say he loves me in that way if he had guilt behind those perfect eyes. I nuzzle in close again and wrap myself around him tighter. Shivering from my soaked clothes an
I deserve it, I know I do, probably worse, it’s not even that painful but as I stare at her again, I can’t hide how much it actually wounded my heart. Sophie has lashed out at me before, sure, in crazy ways, frenzy fueled attacks when lost in her pain or triggered with her PTSD, but she’s never slapped me in the face for anything. This was a direct ‘how fucking dare you’ kind of assault that speaks volumes to the depths of the carnage I’ve caused on her soul.“You lost me. You don’t get to do that anymore.” She wails at me, pulling my hands and arms from her body and shoves me back with as much force as she can muster. Prickly, seething, hating me with utter crushing heartbreak. She’s breathing as heavily as I am although her pain and hysteria seem to be calming mine and I know I need to stay patient and cool if I’m going to bring her down from fierce.I know how to deal with her at her worst, I can hand
Arrick’s POV~ Leila’s party ~Leila’s party is losing its sparkle for me. Too drunk, too miserable at having to see Sophs swanning around with golden boy Christian all night and I am done with being here. I’ve said my goodbyes to my brother and I’m leaving before I do something stupid I’m going to totally regret concerning ‘boyfriend’ and drag Sophs into a dark corner to kiss the shit out of her if I stay here. Seeing her looking this beautiful, this happy with someone else is killing me.I spy Sophs, Leila, and Daniel huddled together at the front door as I head that way, a little too late due to not watching where I was going and swerve at the last second before she spots me. My heart lurching at running into her again when I’m already a complete emotional wreck. Hating that even still, my initial reaction to seeing her is a swift kick in the gut. Almost keeling sideways because I am way too
Arrick’s POV~ Seeing Sophie again. (Restaurant) ~I push the money in the driver’s hand as I follow Charlie and Tom out of the cab onto the sidewalk. I’m still tired from my three hours in the training ring and starving, it’s my turn to pay for lunch and I got to pick the venue. This place is new and no chance of Natasha hitting it with her colleagues on her lunch break either. I’ve been trying to put distance between us since the breakup, trying to stay out of her way and I hate that she has a knack for showing up wherever I am. It feels like she just won’t let go, and although I understand her pain at our breakup, it’s also stifling, and I just want her to move on. She won’t do that if she keeps trying to cling to me.“Hurry up, man.” Tom, my sparring partner today is impatient as hell and throwing me a look that is supposed to hurry me up. I straighten on the street and glare him down.
It kills me that I can love her this much and was stupid enough to give that up, to give her up. It’s so black and white in the clear light of my brain defogging and how fucking dumb I am. It was never about what my heart wanted; it was always about what was best for everyone else’s.I don’t want Natasha; I don’t think I ever really did. I want Sophie. If I’m being honest then I’ve always wanted her, needed her. It’s why I could never ignore the two a.m. cries for help. It’s part of my soul to be there for her to fall on, to depend on, to call, and lean on. I grew up for her and became her rock, gave her that safe space to grow and heal and kept the world at bay so it didn’t touch her. I created our bubble together so Sophie could thrive and feel secure, enjoy life without fear and I always told myself it was because I never had a kid sister and she just screamed out for protection. So precious, so angelic and I wanted to
Arrick’s POV~ Breaking up with Natasha ~Sitting on my couch, leaning forward with elbows propped on my knees, I stare at my cell for the millionth time and scroll to Sophie’s name on the list. Last call was twenty-eight days ago... twenty-eight long days of hell, silence, loneliness, and lack of Sophie. Twenty-eight days; the last time I felt anything but the constant absence of her and heavy pit in my stomach, from her disappearing in every single way, and leaving a gaping silent sunless space in my life.I’m missing her like crazy, keeping her last texts messages because it’s all I have left of her to hold on to. I scroll to the very last one, again. It’s a nothing text; I don’t even remember what it was in response too, as it’s not connected to the conversation before it. Just one single text, one that sums her up in so very few words and I stare at it as my chest heaves with that same ingrained weight
Natasha’sPOV~ Life after Sophie ~I watch Arrick push his food around his plate distractedly, eyes on what he’s doing, yet he seems completely detached from the here and now. We’re in a busy restaurant, the food is good, the company not so much; he has barely said two words the whole time we have been here, and he has had about four beers with dinner so far.Arrick never drinks excessively, normally, but I guess this sums up our life of the past three weeks. I’m irritated, upset but I am trying to keep the pleasantries going. I am trying so hard to not let it get to me, to keep a smile on my face, a positive outlook that we can get through this bump in the road of our relationship, but he makes it so hard.I try not to watch him too much as I eat my own food and give up on small talk. His nods and ‘hmm’ responses make me want to throw my wine glass at him, and I am trying to avoid all forms of naggi
Arrick’s POV~ Letting Sophie go ~I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling of my room. I haven’t moved from this spot all night, still fully dressed and unable to even get up and function. The weight in my chest is almost holding me in place, crushing me with the pain, and I can’t stop running last night through my mind endlessly. I’m restless, torn, scrunching my fingers in my hair like I can rip this out of my head. The worst sort of agony that surpasses all.I want to go to her room and see her, but I can’t. I can’t get her out of my head, even though she is only feet away and it’s torturing me.I kissed Sophie... I did more than kiss her, and it felt good, it felt right. It made me feel a thousand things about her that I can’t even begin to analyze, comprehend how to, and all it did was make everything fall apart even more than it was, especially when Natasha showed up and slapped me back to
Arrick’s POV~ After the nightclub ~I sink back on the couch and stare into the semi darkness, cradling my second coffee since we got back here, and try like hell to sober myself up. Head swimming and sinking slowly into the softness of my couch, while trying to get a grip on reality. All I have done since we got home is sit here and try to pull all the shit in my head back together. Try to make sense of the entire night that pretty much went to crap from the moment I downed the first vodka.Drink and I are not friends right now, and if I have any chance of salvaging anything, then I need to sober up fast. Sophie is in the shower, she headed there as soon as we got back, and I sat here waiting for her. I need to talk to her, to figure some of this out and I have no clue what to do. Tonight, taught me a couple of things.One. That drunk, I feel about Sophie the way she feels about me and I want her in every way; physically, menta
Sophie grabs my wrist and tries to yank me to the side, but I cannot tear my eyes from her. I want to tell her I made a mistake, that she is who I want, that she is all I can even think about. I want to wipe away the memory of that asshole on her body, and replace it with memories of kissing her softly, cherishing her always. No one should ever touch her, except me.“Natasha.” She snaps at me and slaps my hands down from her face harshly, bringing my focus back to reality again. I tear my eyes from her and glance up as I see Tasha heading our way, looking completely non-plussed and again the accompanying guilt is like a constant shadow with her, and wracks me to the bone and almost smashes me in the skull. Nothing hits home and drills to my shame brain, like Natasha’s appearance.It makes me feel shit for even thinking what I just did. That same doubt and uncertainty hitting me with equal force, and I sigh hard. So much for fucking choosing.&l