Chapter 5: You Are A Despicable Human Being

“Sydney? Can I come in?” Drew’s voice calls through the door a little while later.

“No, you can’t come in.” I yell back, folding my arms across my chest, even though he can’t see me.

“Please, Syd?”

“Don’t call me that! And no.”

“Pretty, pretty, please?” Drew pleads desperately.

“I said no; now go away. Leave me alone, Drew.”

“Sydney, you’re being so stubborn.” Drew complains.

“Tell me something I don’t know. Like, the radius of the sun or how many times I’ll have to tell you that I hate you before you get the picture that I don’t want to see your stupid face or talk to you.” I reply, rolling my eyes.

“That’s really mean,” Drew states.

I don’t say anything back, hoping that he’ll go away. Instead, I pick up the remote and turn the volume on the television up a few notches. I’m watching The Hangover Pt. II, trying to forget my misery by laughing my heart out at the expense of Bradley Cooper and Zack Galifianakis. And it was working too until Drew so rudely disrupted me.

“Okay, fine, I’m coming in,” Drew announces, twisting the door knob.

“No!” I shrill, taking a pillow and throwing it at the door. Too bad it’s just a pillow and not a brick so that it can actually inflict pain to him. Maybe it’d give him amnesia and he’d forget he knew me or something.

“Wow, that really, really hurt me, Syd,” He sarcastically says, tossing the pillow back on the bed.

“Stop calling me that; only my friends can call me that,” I inform him, my eyes glued to the movie.

“I am your friend, I’m one of your best friends,” Drew scoffs, sitting down next to me on the bed.

“No, you aren’t. I don’t hate my best friends.”

“I know you’re upset and all, but you do--“

“Upset?” I echo in sheer disbelief. “You think I’m upset?”

“Well, aren’t yo--“

“I was upset at Jake Rosenthal’s party when you let Bradley fight Reese all by himself. I was upset when you told me you loved me in Colorado over Spring Break. I was upset when you and me had that huge fight and didn’t talk for a while. I was upset when you ruined the end of my and Bradley’s first date. I am not upset, Drew; I am furious!” I shout at him so loudly that I wouldn’t be surprised if the neighbors could hear me as I stand up from the bed and place my hands on my hips, glaring down at him.

“Sydn--“

“You know what? Shut up. I do not want to hear what you have to say.” I yell at him, my face flaming.

“Sydney, you need to calm down. Stop yelling so we can just talk,” Drew pleads, standing up in front of me.

“I don’t wanna talk to you! That’s what I just fucking said, Drew. So just go away!”

“No, I’m not gonna go away. We’re gonna talk about this,” He firmly tells me.

“We’re not gonna talk about anything. If you’re not gonna leave, I will.” I say, turning on my heel to leave.

“Stop being such a dumbass,” Drew barks, grabbing my wrist, successfully stopping me from walking out.

“Let go of me, Drew,” I say, my voice hard as I stare up at him, my glare icy. “You are a despicable human being.”

“If I let you go, are you gonna leave?"

“No,” I agree. “Unless you don’t.” I add.

“Why can’t we just talk, Sydney? Please, just five minutes?”

“How about five seconds?” I sarcastically.

“Well, five seconds isn’t really that long,” Drew notes.

“No shit, Sherlock,” I snap. “Now let me go.”

“Okay, but please just listen to me, okay?”

“Fine,” I sigh, taking a deep breath.

“Thank you,” Drew says, breathing a long sigh of relief, releasing my wrist.

With that, I subtly slip on the pair of grey Toms by my nightstand as Drew takes a deep breath, about to begin his stupid long lecture or whatever but I don’t plan on being here to hear it. Drew sits back down on my bed and looks up at me.

“Okay, so--“

Before he gets the next word out of him mouth I turn on my heel, running out of the room as if I’m in a track meet from my high school days. It’s not that I’m afraid of Drew or anything, I’m just running so that he doesn’t catch up with me and force me to listen to him. He calls after me, saying something, but I don’t quite catch it as I run down the corridor, heading down the stairwell. When I make it to the living room, I whiz past Bradley- I thought he went with Elena and the others to Umbria, but I guess not. Bradley opens his mouth probably to question me about my motives, but I don’t slow down as I run past him and out of the front door, slamming the heavy mahogany behind me.

I run down the sidewalk, my wild, uncontained hair flying out behind me. After Elena and the boys all left, I was gonna attempt to do something to my hair so that it didn’t look so bad. But then I lost all motivation to do so when I remembered that it’s not like I have a boyfriend anymore or anyone else to impress.

Swiftly running down the block, I nearly ram into a lady standing on the corner of an intersection with a fruit stand or something, who starts yelling at me in Italian. Normally, I would stop and actually apologize, but right now I really don’t care. I continue down the block until I reach a main road and flag down a taxi cab, throwing myself in the backseat just as tears start streaming down my face. 

“Dove, tesoro?” The gruff taxi man asks looking up at me in the rearview mirror.

“What?” I ask through my horrifying sobs.

“Non parlare italiano, eh?” He asks, giving me sympathetic look. The only reason I even could tell that that and the previous statements were questions is because his voice went up an octave at the end. You know, how we ask questions and our voice goes all up at the end? I guess it’s an Italian thing too, because he just did it.

“I don’t even know what you’re saying,” I inform him shaking my head through my tears.

“I said, “you don’t speak Italian, huh?” and before that, I said, “where to, sweetheart?” He explains. Why the heck didn’t he just speak English at first? I’m obviously not Italian and I think you can tell that by looking at me.

“No, I don’t,” I state as the tears continue down my face. “And I really don’t care, just anywhere.”

“How’s about a park? We have nice parks,” The old-ish man suggests.

“Okay, I guess so,” I agree, not really caring where it is I go, as long as it isn’t back to that house.

“What’s gotcha so upset?” He curiously wonders a while after we ride down the busy street.

“Just…boy problems,” I vaguely tell him, having calmed down a little bit.

“I know what you mean. I have a daughter about your age. Her name is Marianna,” The man informs me.

I don’t say anything, because I mean, really, what am I supposed to say that? Not to sound rude, but I don’t really care about this cabby. I don’t care that he has a daughter. And I dang sure don’t care that her name is Marianna. I take a deep breath, wiping underneath my eyes, glad that my mascara isn’t running. The tears are still coming, but thankfully the weird sobbing sounds have stopped. I guess the taxi driver gets the hint that I’m not really in the mood to talk because the rest of the ride is silent, save for my sniffles. After about ten minutes, the cab stops in front of a huge park full of children and their parents. I reach down into the pocket on my yoga shorts, about to give him some money. He stops me though, raising his hand and shaking his head.

“Senza alcun costo.” He tells me. “No charge.” He adds, translating it to English.

“Thank you,” I murmur, opening my door and getting out.

“Sei il benvenuto.” The man calls out of his window before speeding off.

The park isn’t just a playground park, there’s a huge fountain in the center of it and around the whole thing is a circle of water. Like a moat, I guess. The water in the moat is a crystal blue color which I’d probably be able to see better if it wasn’t for my stupid tears. There are little walkways over the water that lead to the park and I head towards one, sighing as I walk over it.

I find a bench away from any playing things like swing sets or monkey bars or any of that. The metal bench burns my legs which are only covered by the yoga shorts  that you can’t even see unless I hike Bradley’s shirt up a little bit.  I shift my position, pulling Bradley’s shirt all the way down so that it comes down to my knees nearly and sit down again on the bench. The sun-burned metal still kinda warms the backside of my thighs but it’s better than direct contact.

I drop my head in my hands, crouching over and resting my elbows on my knees. I really need to stop crying so much over Bradley and Drew and everything else. But I’ve never been a really strong person- it doesn’t take much for me to cry at all. In fact one time when I was like, fifteen, I was at Bradley’s house and Poncho was sleeping and not moving so I started crying- like hardcore blubbing- because I thought he was dead.

Quite some time- I’m not sure exactly how much seeing as how my phone is up in my room at Francesca’s house- but quite some time later, I feel someone sit down beside me on the bench. I’m not crying anymore, but I’m still crouched over in the position which mostly likely will be the reason I have a hump in my back when I get really old, but I don’t really care. The person clears their throat and I internally groan when I place it as a boy. I hope it isn’t Drew. Mikey, Walker and Tanner should all still be in Umbria with Elena and her friend and I know the chances of Bradley even coming to look for me are slim to none.

Looking up, my heart thumps in my chest hard when I realize that the person sitting beside me isn’t any of my friends. In fact, I don’t even know him. He’s a tall boy though with slightly curly dark brown hair and exceptionally darkened skin. If I didn’t know that Elena was an only child I’d mistake him for her brother or something, seeing as how they’re both nearly the same skin tone. Evidently he tans to. Unless he like, just spends a lot of time out in the sun.

“Stai bene?” The boy says, raising an eyebrow at me.

“I don’t speak Italian,” I tell the boy, hoping that he understands me.

“Oh, you’re from the, ah, Americas?” He wonders, his tone sounding a little funny since English is obviously not his first langue. That makes sense though, considering the fact that he lives in Italy, his first language is obviously Italian. The boy does seem to be fluent in English though; the phrase rolling off of his tongue.

“North America.” I nod.

“Oh, so the one with the states and stuff?”

“That’s the one,” I say with a small chuckle.

“So, what are you doing here all alone crying?”

“I’m not crying,” I assure him, pushing a lock of my windblown hair behind my ear.

“But you were, weren’t you?”

“Was there something you wanted?” I snap, annoyed and tired of talking.

“Just wanted to see what a pretty girl was crying for,” He explains with a shrug.

“Thanks, I guess,” I reply. “I’m fine though.” I pull my legs up on the bench with me, wrapping my knees around them tightly. Then I rest my chin on top of knees, curling into a little ball.

“So, what’s your name?” The curly brown haired boy asks a few seconds of silence.

“Sydney,” I quietly tell him. What’s the harm in telling him my name? Plus he’s cute. Not that I wanna date someone else right now- Bradley and I just broke up, hello. Besides, I’m gonna get him back, Bradley, I mean, he just doesn’t know it yet. “What’s yours?” I wonder, my voice still quiet.

“Like in Australia?”

“What?” I look over at him with a strange look.

“Like Sydney, Australia? Or the Sydney Opera House.” He explicates.

“Oh, yeah, I guess you can look at it like that.”

“That’s a cool name,” He notes. “Mine’s Orlando.”

“Like Bloom,” I retort.

“Pardon?”

“Orlando Bloom,” I repeat.  

“I’m not sure who that is, but okay,” Orlando chuckles.

“He’s an actor. Married to Miranda Kerr,” I quietly explain, burying my face back into my knees.

“Miranda Kerr? That model chick? My sister is obsessed with her,” Orlando tells me.

“She is very obsessing worthy.” I seriously say. “She and Cara Delevigne.”

Orlando opens his mouth to say something but I suddenly hear my name being shouted. Orlando and I both look forward at the sound of my name and I groan when I see Mikey stomping towards us with an angry expression on his face. I haven’t talked to Mikey since last night when I got here but if he’s here at the park, that means that they’re all back from Umbria now. Well, I assume that’s what it means. Jaime’s not with him, which is peculiar but I guess she’s probably back at Francesca’s place.

“Sydney Madison Barker, what the hell?” He angrily states when he reaches us, eyeing Orlando weirdly.

“What?” Mikey’s clearly angry and that’s not good at all. When he’s angry, things get bad, very, very bad.

“What the hell are you doing here? And with…this person?”

“It’s Orlando,” Orlando politely corrects Mikey, offering him his hand for a shake.

“It’s irrelevant,” Mikey grumpily rejects, ignoring Orlando’s hand rudely.

“Okay,” He retorts, awkwardly clearing his throat and lowering his hand.

“Sydney, what the actual fuck do you think you’re doing?” Mikey demands, glaring down at me.

“Quit swearing at me, Michael,” I loudly scold, causing him to raise an eyebrow. “I don’t like it,” I add.

“I’m sorry,” Mikey sighs, running his fingers through his hair- it looks damp. “Let’s go.”

“I’m having a conversation with Orlando,” I point out, gesturing to a quite Orlando sitting beside me still.

“Well, conversation over. Come on, let’s go, Sydney.”

“I’m gonna stop being friends with you all if you keep trying to dictate every aspect of my life.” I mutter.

“I’m not trying to dictate your life, Syd, I didn’t mean for it to sound that way,” Mikey apologizes.

“Yeah, okay,” I sigh, standing up. “Sorry, Orlando, my friend here is being a weirdo so I have to go.”

“That’s okay,” He assures me with a grin. “It was nice talking to you, Sydney.”

“You too,” I honestly tell him. While I don’t wanna be with him or something, he is kinda hot and has a nice personality from what I can tell. So, sure, I’d be his friend, but nothing more than that.

“Well, here, I’ll give you my number and I’ll call you later or something.” He suggests.

“Erm, yeah, sure, that sounds good.” I agree. “I don’t have my phone on me, so do you have like a pen?”

“I have a Sharpie,” Orlando supplies, standing to his feet- he’s much taller than me, probably Bradley or Tanner’s height. Tanner’s probably an inch taller than Bradley and he’s the tallest of all the boys, and there’s no way Orlando’s taller than him. I hold out my left hand, he uncaps the Sharpie, writing a ten digit number on the inside of my palm. “There you go.” He announces, pushing the Sharpie back into his pocket.

“Okay,” I say, reading the number. “I’ll talk to you later then, I suppose.”

“Sounds good,” Orlando nods with a small smile, before nodding at Mikey.

“Let’s go,” Mikey tells me in a hard tone.

“Why are you so angry?” I ask him, irritated at his attitude.

“Because no one knew where you were. We all got back to the house and you were nowhere to be found. Just Bradley and Drew and all they knew was that you ran out of the house crying. So, we all leave, looking for you and I find you here? In a park? With a random guy? How do you think Bradley would feel about that while he’s running all around Italy looking for you?” Mikey explains as we walk over the bridge thing covering the moat-like thingy.

I stop in my tracks as we get over the short bridge and turn, looking up at Mikey with a frown on my face. “Honestly, I don’t think Bradley would give a damn if he knew considering he broke up with me.” I tell him, then briskly walk off. Like I said, Tanner, Drew and Bradley are the only ones who know that we broke up yesterday.

“Wait, what?” Mikey dumbfoundedly asks, running after me.

There’s a gurgling in my stomach and I feel the bile raise in my throat, and I run towards the nearest trashcan, retching the pizza I ate a few hours ago. I’m not like, bulimic or anything but I do have a tendency to throw up whenever I cry a lot. It started when I was maybe thirteen? But obviously I’m not bulimic because all I do is eat. Like, ever. Mikey comes up behind me, taking my hair in one hand and using the other to gingerly rub my back. When I’m done, Mikey wraps his arm around my waist, holding me up.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” I nod, pulling my hair back into a messy ponytail.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” He awkwardly apologizes.

“It’s fine,” I shrug, beginning to walk again.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, Mikey, I’m sure,” I authorize.

“You’re not…you know, are you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not, like, you know, with child or anything are you?” Mikey asks nervously.

“Are you asking me if I’m pregnant?” I ask, looking up at him.

“Erm, yeah, I guess I am,” He nods. “You’re not, are you?”

“I’m not pregnant, Mikey, I guarantee you that.” I promise him as we walk together down the sidewalk.

“Prove it,” Mikey say. “Because if you are, I’m gonna murder Bradley.”

“How do you expect me to prove that I’m not pregnant?”

“I passed a mini-mart on my way here; they sell pregnancy tests. Let’s go get one.”

“Mikey, I’m not pregnant,” I confidently reassure him.

“How can you be so sure? I know you and Bradley bang like every day.” Mikey notes.

“Okay firstly- no, we don’t. And secondly-last week I got a visit from Mother Nature.”

“What do yo--“ I give him a pointed look, raising an eyebrow and his face flushes red and he coughs uncomfortably. “Ooooh, okay, I believe you.”

“Good,” I chirp, giggling at my friend’s awkwardness.

“Erm, so you and Bradley? You two really broke up?”

“Yesterday,” I admit, nodding at Mikey and looking down at the graveled sidewalk. 

“How come?”

“Drew kissed me.”

“Drew kissed you?” He echoes, his voice surprised.

“Yeah, right before we got on the plane; said he wanted it for his birthday.”  I explain.

“His birthday isn’t until the 25th though- that’s four days from now,” Mikey reminds me.

“Yeah, I know. I guess he just wanted to kiss me and his birthday was an excuse.”

“Why would Drew wanna kiss you?”

“Gee, thanks Mikey; that makes me feel really good,” I sarcastically deadpan.

“You know what I mean, Syd.” Mikey scoffs.

“You remember in Colorado when Drew and I got into that huge fight?”

“Yeah, why?” Mikey says, leading me across a pedestrian walk. I’m assuming he knows how to get back to Francesca’s house. At least I sure hope he does and that we’re not just walking around Rome at random. 

“The night before that, he told me that he loved me,” I say, realizing that he’s the first of the boys I’ve told.

“What? Seriously? Why’d he wait until you were with Bradley before he told you?”

“Because he’s a stupid, narcissistic, dumb jerk,” I seriously tell Mikey.

“So, he kissed you because he’s in love with you?”

“Well, he loves me, I don’t think he’s actually in love with me.”

“Either way, it’s really screwed up.”

“Tell me about it,” I sigh.

“How’re you handling it?”

“Not very well,” I truthfully tell him. “It sucks Mikey,” I complain.

“I know it does, Syd. Maybe I should just talk to him for you?”

“That’s okay,” I deny. “He hates me. He even told me that he doesn’t wanna be my boyfriend anymore.”

“That’s kinda weird,” Mikey says, scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah, well, Bradley’s weird. But I don’t blame him for hating me.”

“He doesn’t hate you, Syd, I know he doesn’t.” Mikey promises me as we reach Francesca’s house.

“Yes he does, but that’s okay. I’m gonna make him change his mind.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

“That’s the part I haven’t quite worked out, but you mark my words, I’m gonna do it.”

“Love your enthusiasm,” He chuckles, taking his iPhone out. “I’ll just let everyone know you’re back,” He adds, his fingers flying over the screen of his phone before he slips it back down in his pocket. As we’re walking up the stairs, I realize that the house is really quiet.

“You mean everyone really is looking for me?” I ask in disbelief.

“Yeah, they really are,” Mikey assures me. “We all care about you Sydney.”

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” I apologize, sighing even though I know it’s not really that big a deal.

“It’s okay, but if you do it again, I’m gonna hurt you.” He threatens jokingly, throwing his arms around me as we stop outside the door of my bedroom. I wrap my arms around his torso, hugging him tightly as he crushes my body to his in a tender hug. Mikey rests his chin against the top of my head for a minute before leaning down, leaving a small kiss on the top of my head before pulling away. “I love you, Siddey.”

“I love too, Michael,” I truthfully tell him, ignoring him calling me that stupid name.

“How about you get cleaned up and stuff and we go out for a best friend’s dinner?” He suggests.

“Can we go to a spaghetti place?”

“Sure,” He chuckles. “If that’s what you want.”

“Then I would like nothing better than to have a best friend’s dinner with you.” I giggle.

“Alright, sounds like a plan them. I’ll see you in a little while then,” Mikey says.

“Okay,” I reply, going into my room and closing the door from behind me.  

I press my back against the door and slide down, hitting the carpeted floor with a thud. I guess talking to Mikey and Orlando did make me feel a little better but of course my heart still hurts. It literally feels like someone threw a bowling ball at my chest and left a gaping hole through it and it was never repaired. Well, I’m not really sure how that’d feel, but I imagine it would suck. Much like my life at the moment. 

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Author's Note: Happy Thursday! Don't forget to comment and vote! Do you guys think that Sydney's being too hard on Drew? Lemme know in a comment maybe? What do you all think of Orlando? Brant Daughtery is over there, he's the one who plays Orlando. Thoughts on this chapter? Predictions for the next chapter? Notice the song- where I got the name of the story from! See you guys on Monday! ♥