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song: bored — billie eilish

IT WAS NEW YORK, I told myself. People moved fast, and if you were rejected, it would only take you a few days to find someone new. My own thoughts had come back to bite me.

I need some time to work on...all of it. That’s what he’d said. A few more months and you’ll have me all to yourself. And I had believed him.

I wanted to scream. The alcohol in my system licked a strange combination of hot anger and passive demureness in my veins. The anger won. I was about to lurch forward and call him out on his bullshit, but an arm on my shoulder held me back.

Mae. Right. I’d forgotten she was still at my side.

“Forget about him,” she said with an imperceptible shake to her head, “He’s not worth it.”

I listened to her.

And that was exactly how we ended up at the porch of Kade’s apartment, three large cartons of eggs in hand.

“Pass me one,” I said.

Mae grinned, curtsying as she offered me an egg like a sacrifice. “The honor is all mine.”

I snatched it from her grasp, played with it between my fingers, enjoying the cool feel of it, before I swung my arm back, and, without thinking, launched it toward the window.

It cracked evenly, and a wicked sense of exhilaration shot down my spine.

“Yeah yuh!” Mae cackled.

She reached for an egg, taking aim. Hers splattered lowered than mine, but not with any less force.

After that, it was free range.

I guffawed outwardly at the horrible pun.

The air was filled with the sickening sound of eggs splattering, and Kade’s window was soaked and leaking with yellow goo.

I think people underestimated the true genius of egging a surface: the real art happened when it dried. It hardened to a thick, rough, semi-sticky mess that was a real bitch to clean. And if you left it for too long, the egg would start to rot.

When the cartons were emptied clean, Mae grinned. But a sick feeling took over my stomach. My eyes began to water. “What have I done?”

Mae’s eyes flickered my way, her face falling. “Indigo.”

“What have I done, Mae?”

“Indigo, you—”

“He didn’t cheat on me. We broke up three weeks ago. Yeah it might suck for me, but he didn’t technically do anything wrong. I have no right to be upset. I—”

“Indigo!” Mae yelled. “He told you he wanted to focus on his work. Did what he was doing look like homework to you?”

I couldn’t help it. I felt like I was going to puke, but at the same time, my throat was clogged up with unshed tears. Heaving, I bent over to try and ease my lungs.

The image of him and that girl kept playing in my head over and over again. My chest was physically aching. Like it was caving in. I shouldn’t care this much. I shouldn’t give a damn…

but I did.

He said he needed to focus.

Was I more distracting than a stranger? Did being with me feel like…a chore? Were the five years we spent together a joke? A waste of my time? And perhaps the question that hurt the most: how could you spend so much time with someone and still not know them?

Mae sighed, patting my hair down. “Alright. That’s enough for today. Let’s get you home.”

I just nodded numbly. Home sounded good. Home sounded great.

Home sounded like crying in bed, which was a lot better than crying on your ex’s porch.

Somehow Mae handled her alcohol better than me. Although her face still had a flush to it, she was still more steady than me.

I used her short frame as a stand (which she normally hated) but she tolerated it this time, maybe because she felt a little sorry for me.

I felt a little sorry for me too.

I was doing well. I was on my way to moving past the shitty breakup — but going to that party had to ruin everything.

“Hey!” Someone yelled, and I turned to see a security guard heading our way. He flashed a torch so bright it hurt my eyes.

Mae yelped, and grabbed my hand. “Run.”

I didn’t argue with her. We ran until the guard’s protest become a blur in the distance, until there was a burning at the pit of my stomach. I slowed down my stride to match Mae’s.

We stared at each other and then doubled over. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me — I’d been on the verge of tears and now here I was laughing like a maniac.

After a few minutes, we sobered, and finally, we reached my apartment block.

But then I stopped.

Something heavy sat at the bottom of my stomach, and I could feel it rising up to my throat.

I gagged, and Mae’s eyes widened. She rushed me to the elevator.

“Hold it in,” she screeched, “Hold it in!”

Her distressed voice made me want to laugh, but I held back. If I laughed there was no telling what was going to come out of my mouth. I could practically taste the hydrochloric acid at the back of my throat.

There wasn’t even a pot plant nearby to save me.

I chucked my key to Mae, who unlocked at a record speed considering that she, too, was a little drunk. I rushed to the toilet, leaning over and waiting a few seconds before a sheen of sweat collected at my forehead before it all came out.

Mae was behind me, holding my bush of curls back.

When I heaved my final heave, I flushed and brushed my teeth. After helping me change into a fresh set of pyjamas, which was really just an odd little pink tank and shorts, Mae left.

“You’ll be fine, right?” she asked.

I’d nodded self-assuredly.

A packet of marshmallows I’d bought for hot chocolate was lying open on the kitchen counter. I rolled my eyes. Scarlett. If she was going to steal my stuff, she should’ve at least had the decency to put it away.

Too tired to care, I strode past.

I was about to go to bed when I heard sounds rising outside. Speak of the devil — one belonged to Scarlett, and the other was strangely familiar. I didn’t give myself time to figure it out, stumbling into my room and shutting the door behind me.

I sighed.

Just when I wanted to get some sleep.

No doubt this would be a repeat of the other night. And all the others.

And I wasn’t going to embarrass myself by lingering smack bang in the middle of the apartment.

The door opened, and the conversation between Scarlett and her...friend faded.

Then, a deep voice sounded. “Is anyone in here?”

My heart skipped a beat. I knew that voice. Low and quiet, but still somehow discernible through the paper-thin walls of the apartment.

I blinked back confusion as I realized this guy was the first to ask if Scarlett and him were alone. The rest of her conquests simply hadn’t cared. Which was understandable, I guess.

It was just strange that this one had asked.

“... No,” Scarlett lied.

 “Okay.” There was a pause, and somehow, I could feel his smile. “Okay. We can’t do this.”

I could picture my roommate’s face drop. “What?”

“Bye, Scarlett.”

“What? No! I just—It’s just—it’s just my stupid roommate, alright? She’s probably sleeping already because she’s lame that way.”

There was another pause.

“Sleeping is lame?”

I couldn’t help it —a choked laugh bubbled up my throat.

“...No.” Scarlett fumbled for words. “I—”

“Goodnight, Scarlett.”

There was sound of movement, like she was walking after him. He made no sound when he moved, though. I would’ve called it impressive, if I weren’t so curious. Scarlett asked the question playing on my mind.

“How do you know I have a roommate anyway?”

There was a pregnant pause before he chose to answer. “The lights are on. And half of everything in this place is labelled with INDIGO.”

My heart stopped beating altogether at the sound of my name. From his mouth.

The door closed gently. Scarlett let out a frustrated, high-pitched groan, stomped to her room, slamming her room door hard enough to wake me up. Any thought of sleep flushed itself out of my system.

My heartbeat had still taken a trip from the situation that had unreeled.

After a few minutes, I sighed, walking out of my room.

Ice cream would help.

Ice cream always helped.

Opening the fridge, I smiled with my Ben & Jerry’s chocolate chip tub in my hands.

A glance at the counter made me furrow my brows. The packet of marshmallows from earlier was missing. Strange. I brushed aside the thought. Maybe Scarlett had put it away in between her tantrum.

Although my heartbeat had calmed down, I still felt feverish, and baby hairs stuck to my face in a way that me uncomfortable. The AC had broken, and Scarlett and I were too broke to get it fixed.

I sighed, deciding to step outside. I was still in my little pink pyjamas, but I couldn’t care much about it.

I needed fresh air.

Spooning ice cream into my mouth, I slipped on a pair of slides.

Stepping out, it was already cooler. The crisp breeze settled on my skin in a way that was welcome. The elevator was on level four, our level, and so when I pressed the button, the doors slid open at once.

I should’ve glanced ahead at least once before stepping in. But I didn’t. And if I had, I would have noticed the painfully tall figure dwarfing the space of the elevator.

He was difficult not to notice.

Built like a soldier— hair the lightest shade of brown— buzzcut. And, of course, the tattoos.

The stranger from the flower shop.

He lifted his eyes to mine.    

a/n:

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