Lucas POV
I woke up to a unfamiliar room, the room was dimly lit, poster pasted at the side of the bed. The table neatly stacked up with books.
I jolted up, my head aching badly. I tried recalling how i got here but it wasn't clicking. The aroma of something cheesey and pasta filled the air. Music playing in the other room.
Even though I'd wanted to pretend not knowing where i was but I couldn't sleep back.
Quickly, I got up to the clicking of plates. I took a good look around. Fake vines swinging down the ceiling. Clothes stacked up on a chair. The blue rug already loosing its colour.
The room smelled of earth and perfume and the room painted with shades of green.
" Hi ".
I turned towards the direction of the voice.
Rachel?! .
She was kneeling on the frame of the door in a baggy T-shirt and short.
" Hi Lucas ". She repeated, tilting her head. I could see the smile she was hiding.
" How the hell did I get here?". I tried to sound as calm as ever. She sat across where I stood. A chair I never knew was there. " I need a response ". I repeated more firm.
" Hey, don't fucking raise your voice at me ", She slams the plate on the cushion beside the bed " you should be grateful I picked your fucking ass ".
Was i drunk last night?
" Don't fucking get me pissed! ". I said, almost at the top of my voice.
Rachel was my ex. A past I'd wanted to forget, a past I'd regretted. Here I was, in her damn room standing right next to her. I could feel the surge to destroy that fucking face.
" Lucas, still ol' Lucas Cross, always pissed off " a smug on her face " who's the new girl that got you all messed up? What's that name again?", her fingers tapping on her lips " Yeah, Vale, r–".
" Rachel! ", I gripped her hand, her face twisted in pain. Exactly what I've always wanted. " where's she?".
She was struggling to be freed, stumbled backward as she grips her hand.
" She left ". The way she had said it. I knew she had forced her out. Obviously, she's Rachel.
I wanted to be out of this damn forsaken place.
I picked up my jacket, hung it around my shoulder. Swings her door open without looking back. As soon as i stepped out. I turned to the window and Rachel stood there, arms folded and that don't– leave– me look.
Taxi stopped and I left. I stared at her from the mirror till she was out of sight.
Sophie was the last person I'd what her to see me in that state.
Was it Sophie who found me? Did she maybe – just maybe wanted to clear the air?
It wasn't like I cared about her but something about how everyone picks on her bothers me. I sure did wanted her to feel like someone actually cared for her.
I searched frantically for my phone. Found it. I searched for Sophie and dialed it.
No, no, no, Lucas. You're Lucas Cross not some damn pussy!
I was about ending the call when I heard a familiar voice.
" Lucas?". I froze, it was Sophie. I didn't know whether to apologize or maybe thank her for yesterday.
I tried to find the word but it wasn't coming out " yeah".
" why did you call?".
" Sophie, I'm – I'm sorry". She went silent. I looked at the screen she was still there. " I didn't mean to make you look like the scene and – ", I thought she was going to maybe, say something " I'm really a dick for not defending you ".
" Hmmm. And.... ". I could tell she was giving in already.
" And, thank you for yesterday ". I said with a grin. Thank goodness no one was there to see this.
" I swear Lucas, one more shit from you and–"
" There'll be no more, I swear".
––––––
Sophie
Why does he get to always say sorry like he could piss me off and a " sorry " was gonna fix it?
I sighed, I wasn't fully over what he did but at least I was happy he apologized. It was late already and I could barely sleep.
Screen popped up.
Still awake?
Damien?!
It's been a while I heard from Damian Larson, the perfect-looking, most-annoying, rude Damian.
" Hey Soph, heard you got to town ".
I sprang up in excitement. I'd forgotten almost how he looked and how stupid he sounds. He had waited for us to unite after his family moved out of England.
" Yeah..."
D's typing...
" Didn't bother checking on your old pal, Ouch".
I adjusted a strand of my hair and tuck in behind my ear. Damien had his way of making me feel loved.
We were friends.
No BFs. More like it.
" Don't sulk about it, c'mon. I've been busy lately ".
D's typing...
" Yeah yeah, I get it."
D's still typing...
" Wanna meet up?".
Okay! I'd really miss his ass and his croaked voice and his stupid perfect smile. How he brushes his hair off his perfect face. His scent. Something more of Vanilla and cigarettes.
" Yup".
I hated guys that smokes but something about Damien was beautiful. How he would gently inhale it and watch me from garden. I hated that he was always looking perfect.
Perfect face.
Perfect croaked voice.
Perfect hair.
Perfect scent.
Everything about him speaks perfection.
You'd probably think he had lesser worries. He would move wherever the wind blows him and he would drag his worries around with a smile.
Maybe, just maybe, that's why I'd loved him. He was peaceful. No, he is my peace.