"Just lie to them?" David asked.

"Yeah, why not? You want to fix things, right?"

David shuffled his feet, looking down at the gray carpet. A few dark stains were splotched on the ground between us. Part of why I'd picked this place was because nobody came here. It was a good store for the many options but not great for much else.

"This isn't my business anymore. I'm done," David stated, abruptly, then swiftly turned to leave.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes," David replied, giving me a quick glare over his shoulder. "You can't hold me responsible for stuff Keaton and Paul are doing. I'm out. It's not my fault you have a whole hate club."

I crossed my arms over my chest, squeezing my forearms tightly.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"I'm not even asking that much of you!" I said, raising my voice. My throat closed up as my fingers shook. I quickly put the book that I'd taken off the shelf back in the slot that had been left open. Then, I turned my back to him and stared at the books, squeezing my eyes shut and sucking in deep breaths.

Everything sucked. I wanted my life to be normal. And uneventful. And simple.

David wasn't leaving. I'd expected him to leave and just give up on me.

"What do you want?" I asked after a few minutes of utter silence.

There was a pause as if he hadn't heard me. I almost repeated myself when he actually answered.

"I don't know," he said, softly. "I said I was sorry."

It wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

I guess I would have to accept it, though. I clearly wasn't going to change his mind. And I knew as well as anyone that you couldn't force someone to obey your will.

If someone really didn't want to do something, then you had to live with that. I had no authority over David regardless of what he had done to me. I could scream and cry and beg but I didn't think it would change his mind. It would just make me seem ridiculous and helpless and weak.

I turned back to face David, pulling myself together. Puffing up my chest, letting my arms rest at my waistside, and meeting his sad stare. "Fine. We don't need to talk anymore then."

I pulled out my phone and deleted my chat with him. I looked up at him again, trying not to get emotional. Trying not to fall on my knees and beg him to just fix everything so I wouldn't have to.

But he wouldn't fix everything. I knew this. I had always known this. Some people just didn't care about cleaning up their messes. Some people couldn't change.

David would never change. Even if he had come to me and been honest, it didn't make him suddenly an empathetic person who cared about my well-being. That was simply ridiculous.

I left the bookstore, leaving him standing in the small carpeted opening between the fiction shelves.

_______________________________

Tight leather skirt, mesh bra covered in a slightly darker mesh top, and high heeled boots that went up to my shins. My ID tucked into the sole pocket on the leather pants, my phone in my hand. Makeup done up in an extravagant fashion, wing so long that it nearly looked stupid.

But everything else was so dramatic that I doubted the eye liner would be what anyone would focus on.

Cassidy was out. She had told me briefly that she was going to hang out with Calvin again. It still felt a bit weird hearing her say that. She hadn't spoken at all about Phoebe since the incident in our apartment that night. And Phoebe hadn't bothered to text me back either.

I had considered going to hang out with some of my friends from the poetry club, but realized I was not in a mental state suitable for positive social interactions. Instead, I wanted chaos. I wanted to do something I'd regret.

But I needed to break myself out of this slump, this utter trance that I'd descended into. I needed something eccentric, electric, overstimulating.

I headed out of my apartment alone with just my phone in hand. I didn't need much of anything. Usually, if I was going to a party, I would bring a jacket and carry my mascara or a bit of eye liner in case mine got severely messed up due to the sweaty bodies and messy drinks. This time, I didn't care.

I was picked up by an Uber at the corner of the intersection by my apartment. The ride was pretty quick -- just five minutes. I wasn't able to walk it in heels. I'd tried; it was too painful.

The place was moderately packed when I got there. A light breeze ran through the mesh shirt and gave me goosebumps up and down my arms. The line was going to suck but it'd be worth it.

As I waited, I eavesdropped on the conversation from the group behind me. They were all clearly wasted. The girl was talking about how she was planning to hook up with someone else at the club, and a guy in the group countered that the place was so open that hooking up there required you being an exhibitionist.

Finally, I reached the front of the line where the bouncer stood, checking ID's and stamping wrists. I handed mine over and immediately got a red dot stamped to my hand.

Then, I followed the curving line of people in front of me into the foggy inside.