Uranus' POV

"Come in," I shout, still sitting on the couch, "the door isn't locked."

Destiny comes in and stands midway, shocked. I'm sitting here with a bag of chips in one hand, my phone in the other hand, and the remote controller is on my lap. My shirts are all around the place. Cups are all around the table, filled, half-filled, and empty.

"Unbelievable," she exclaims, looking from the table to the ground, and finally to me.

"As if they haven't been like that since forever," I ask, sharing her perplexity.

"Damn you, Uri. Third damn lucky," she teases, tongue out.

"Wait for a second," she carefully eyes me as if remembering something, "I have a bone to pick with you - you've left me hanging on the dead side of the phone again."

"Not again," I complain, tossing some of my shirts to the ground so she could sit. Instead of sitting, she throws a pillow at my face.

Destiny grabs the collar of my shirt and says, "come on. Drag your feet on cleaning, Uranus!"

About half an hour later, we finish. The living room looks exceptionally weird. The mess it was in was a mere reflection of the swirling thoughts inside my head. I'm part of this mess, and it's also a part of me.

Destiny has an OCD. She can't see things out of their right order. Technically, my room is her small hell. Not only this, she is active, energetic, and full of life. I had been like her, but my life hits a dead end and changed 180 degrees.

I help her set about the cleaning, and we successfully got it done before sharing my exciting yet unpleasant news. Glad she finally settles down, I start speaking but get distracted with her sudden hop from the sofa.

"This is perfect now," she draws her best smile, tilting the painting on the wall, so it is perfectly vertical. I mentally facepalm. Girls.

"Do you want to eat some ramen?" I question, heading to the kitchen to grab some.

"Actual ramen?" She curiously asks, "or just the soup?"

"Are you even asking?" I raise an eyebrow, "of course, the soup."

"Okay, just don't make it spicy," she reminds me. I remember the last time I forced her to eat spicy food. She was as red as a tomato. Of course, it wasn't a good day at the bathroom, either.

Bringing two cups, I toss the actual ramen away and pick up the two small packages that contain the flavor and the spices. I empty them in the cups which are filled with boiled water and stir them till they completely dissolve. It just tastes out of this world. I add Destiny's spices to my cup. The smell builds up stronger and sneaks to my nostrils, earning a groan from me. I'm a sucker for spicy food, unlike Destiny, who hates it as much as she hates disorganization.

Sipping from her cup, Destiny asks, "how did you break up with Katie?"

"Not interesting...I told her we could be good friends," I tell.

She nearly chokes, "what?"

"What?"

"This is the worst thing you could tell a girl," she points, "especially if she likes you a lot, like Katie," she adds.

"I haven't found another way," I admit, "And you would've made a big deal outta it if I told you."

"Of course," she says, "anyways, how did she take it?"

"Wait, I was about to ask, didn't she call you?" I ask in surprise. Destiny and Katie are good friends, so I wonder why she didn't inform her.

"Nope," she slyly smiles, "she must have planned your murder by now."

"I don't think so," I throw my phone to her lap, and she luckily catches it, 'yet she spills some of our drink on her floral dress.

"Ouch," she screams, it was still hot, "go grab a towel," she orders.

"Dammit," I say, before running upstairs to grab a towel. When I come back, I find Destiny helping herself with an ice pack.

After she finishes, she opens my phone and sees the messages I was aiming to show her before spilling the ramen soup.

- notifications -

K: what did I do wrong?

K: Uranus, you can't do this to me.

K: I still like you

K: I mean, I think I love you

K: you can't just leave!

K: it's not your decision alone, by the way

- missed calls -

ex-girlfriend (Katie)

3 missed calls

"Inconceivable," Destiny joltingly says, "she seems so persistent, so real."

"They're all like this, I guess," I say, remembering how many times I received messages of this sort.

"She carries the torch for you, and you didn't even open her messages?" Destiny points out in skepticism, throwing both hands to her face.

"My replies won't change anything," I firmly say, suddenly getting sick of the subject. Why do all the girls I know always overreact?

"You're as hard as nails, Uranus, if you'd ask me," she avows.

"Not as your nails, though," I giggle, "they keep braking every time!" I remember how many times Destiny calls to rant about her broken nails, and how much she loves them.

"Oh my God, how dare you, Uranus Moone!" She threatens, "Never. Insult. My. Nails. Again." She says this word by word. Checking her nails while she speaks, she gives me a murderous glare.

"Relax," I push her shoulders downwards, to seat her again, "I was just teasing," I can't help but laugh out loud.

"Just don't," her gaze diverts a little, she becomes slightly attentive, and asks, "wait for a second, you changed her contact name to 'ex-girlfriend (Katie)'?" I can't help but chuckle. I had a bet with myself that she'd comment on this.

I make her the best puppy eyes I can make. Innocence isn't my thing.

Destiny chortles too, her eyes watering from laughter.

"I thought this relationship would exceptionally last," she thoughtfully says.

"And you say you know me?" I laugh.

"I lost count of the girls you dumped," she uses her fingers to count, "they were 7, plus Katie, this gives us an 8!" She figures out, "Uranus, I can't even imagine it," she hysterically laughs.

"They weren't good for me," I further illustrate.

"The eight?"

"Yup," I casually say.

"Amanda?"

"Too short," I tell her.

"Teressa?" She asks.

"As cold as ice."

"Emily?" She has a mischievous grin on her face.

"Fine, I get what you're grinning at, she is taller than me," I say.

"What about Katie?"

"She's just very attached, and I just can't," I explain no further, dropping the subject. We remain silent for some time.

"Soooo," I clear my throat, grabbing her attention.

"I thought you only wanted to talk about your breakup with Katie," she says, turning back to me again.

"There is some other news that I want to announce," I say professionally, tucking my imaginary tie into place.

"What news?" She impatiently asks.

"I want to take a holiday."

She doesn't reply. Instead, she looks bluntly at me.

"Hey, will you just put a sock in it? Keeping quiet isn't helping."

"I'll eat my hat," she finally replies.

"Come on," I holler.

"Aren't you on holiday, already?" She laughs, throwing the towel away, revealing her now red skin. "You barely even go to your parents' gardening shop anymore."

"I mean an actual one, out of town," I explain, "And Adam is managing the shop quite well. There aren't a lot of people going to shop anymore as far as I know."

"I'll be away for some time, but I'm drawing the line that it won't be forever," I further illustrate.

"I don't think so, being here or away is the same if you're not willing to let go. It's six of one and half a dozen of the other!" She says.

"On the contrary, I think a holiday will come in handy," I emphasize, "I need time away from the place that holds all my pain."

She stops talking and starts to calculate my words for a second, then says, "fine, how can I help?"

"Brilliant," I reply in victory.