#and i didnt fall asleep until 6am yesterday and had to wake up for a family thing at 10am

[foolishly-snowy]

I've decided to not hate anymore. I love everything. Even the annoying things, I love those too. Maybe it wasn't so bad after all

[swampgallows]

for the first time in a while, at least a month, i woke up screaming again. i fell asleep around 4, which i was proud of, feeling myself slowly sliding back toward a preferred schedule. lately i’d still been falling asleep at 6am but would wake up a bit earlier, getting fewer hours but at least seeing more sunlight. the urge to hurt myself yesterday was strong, but luckily there are understanding and generous people in my life to ease me through it, and i am beyond thankful. 

two things have happened.

one, an old face from my previous WoW server has resurfaced and sought me out specifically. a different friend had namedropped them out of nowhere, but was also drunk and wouldn’t extrapolate on why he had mentioned it. he just said the character’s name, then drunk-dialed me a bunch of times until i picked up and then had their “gay roommate” scream across the room that “asexuals aren’t lgbtq!”, then hung up.

but anyway the old face returned. we’ll call them “Pockets” because it’s 7am and I’ve barely slept and so i’m pullin raver names out of my ass. I met Pockets back on thobro in 2006ish. we’re the same age, and so we’ve known each other for a fairly long time and kind of grew up alongside each other. Pockets eventually got into a relationship with...I guess we’ll say “Dizzy”. Now, Dizzy lives very far away from Pockets. Pockets lives in America, like me, and Dizzy lives in Australia. But as the capabilities of the internet were improving every day (especially with the advent of internet telephony like skype at the time) it was easier than ever to sustain a long-distance relationship. But by the time I had quit WoW in early 2009, Pockets and Dizzy’s relationship had not progressed as one should have. For instance, Pockets had barely seen any pictures of Dizzy. While they chatted all the time, at that point they hadn’t yet had a webcam chat. It had been some years of constant companionship, yet they never had a plan to meet. But that was fair, I thought, since Pockets and I were only 16 in 2006, so planning that thing was kind of difficult. But by 2009, we were 19, and Dizzy was a bit older in the first place, so surely two people who loved each other would want to meet irl, right?

But Pockets said they respected that Dizzy wasn’t so open about their looks or personal life, etc. Okay. Pretty big red flags, though, if someone you’ve spent almost every waking moment with for three years is being this conservative about their identity. They were prominent characters in most of the server’s RP, so there was a lot of talk. “Maybe Dizzy is like... WAY older than they say, and they don’t want to admit it.” “Maybe Dizzy isn’t the gender they say they are.” “Pockets will get fed up with this eventually—they’re young! They can’t just wait around forever.”

So Pockets found me in game, yesterday, and had transferred to WRA, where a lot of thobro refugees (like myself) ended up. And they sought me out specifically because they remember my friendship with them, and that I had known them (and the rest of our community) all that time ago. And Pockets told me, yesterday, that Pockets and Dizzy had finally broken up. They had stopped talking for about two weeks, and for about two solid weeks, Pockets was staring down the cavernous hungry maw of suicide. “Everything was just... so quiet.”

They must have been fucking married by now, I thought. Either way, it had been over ten years! I knew Pockets was taking it really hard. Except... Dizzy and Pockets never met.

Not once. Not once in over ten fucking years of being in a relationship did they ever meet. And Dizzy had actually been to America a handful of times throughout the relationship. Yet Dizzy never went to meet Pockets.

I don’t know what the rest of the situation was like. If they video-chatted every day, if they called each other all the time, or whatever. Regardless of how you look at it or what the situation with Dizzy was, Pockets was catfished and abused for over ten fucking years. “It’s my fault. I should have left when [etc. etc.] happened...” Pockets told me that they hadn’t even seen end-game content past Cataclysm, despite playing WoW the entire time. Dizzy never wanted to do any of it, but would get upset if Pockets did it without them. So all Pockets did from Cataclysm onward was PVP, and once they reached the top achievements, felt there was nowhere else to go from there and stopped. Dizzy only wanted to play alts and quest. No raids, no PVP, no dungeons even. Just running around and questing, and preventing Pockets from doing any of that content. When someone you have never even fucking met is controlling the way you play a video game and what permissions you have within the game that you pay monthly to play, something is wrong.

Pockets knew they were lacking confidence. They were so lonely and so latched on that they let Dizzy run the show. And Dizzy barely cared. Pockets knew they basically only existed when it was convenient for Dizzy, but outside of that, they were nothing. I felt that about halfway through my relationship with my ex qp, and shared those feelings with Pockets. It took so long to break away and I held on past everything, past my own pain and self-torture, because I had some kind of hope that things would change. And part of me, an insidious part, said that this was the best I was going to get. After all, I’m some broken asexual idiot—”I should be so lucky,” the words rang out in my head, yellowed and worn but enduring and broadcasting itself loud and vivid over and over for years and years and years, tattered even during my childhood, “I should be thankful,”—and this person was my best friend. I should take the affection in the times I could get it. I should just accept that they will want other people sexually because I cannot provide that, and my best friend has a right to be sexual, and they are being so generous by fixing me with their limp novice dick. 

So I bit it back and squashed it down and even after asking six times and getting no answer, “Do you have a problem with hurting me?” it took them falling into the pit of legitimate white supremacy and Nazism for me to finally let go. And I had tried a number of times but felt myself being pulled back, and they, too, were so desperate for some sense of power in their shitty meaningless life (if that wasnt obvious), so lacking initiative and direction that when i floated back upstream, they took it in stride like every other aspect of existence, as if i were just some trash that floated down the river that they, some huge, slack-jawed bloated fish, gobbled up regardless. I existed only when it was convenient for me to exist, and the moment I started being consumed by my anxiety, getting combative, demanding more affection, more outward recognition, I was gaslit and told, literally, word for word, in fun little tumblr doublespeak, “Your feelings are valid, but this is all based on things within your head.” me coming to my QP and saying, “I feel like you dont care about me because I keep asking to hang out and you’re completely ambivalent about it, and when i asked you, ‘Do you want to see me?’ you said ‘You can visit if you want,’. It’s a yes or no question. Do you want to see me?” DO YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH HURTING ME? and then being told it’s “all in my head”, it’s a perceived disinterest. YES, that is what I’m perceiving, which is why I’m trying to address that you are not giving me enough attention and acknowledgment for someone you claim to care about! But obviously, it was me that was the problem, because i was daring to exist outside those convenient parameters. If you didnt want to fuck me right now then what was I even doing breathing your air?

And I’ve been thinking about them a lot because it was around this time 3 years ago that i had started my job, which i had to quit, and had also had a falling out with them, and was mourning that loss. as well as a, in retrospect, MUCH LARGER LOSS of tokin, who had taken his own life that same week. so i tried to turn it into a new beginning, doing my job and being appreciated, but eventually i crawled back and, one-sided as usual, tried to mend things with the QP. But it didnt matter to them. I didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. “Oh well,” was their shitty little trademark. Yeah buddy, life is fucking just happening to you and you’re stuck in one place without even a dream of things getting better, or worse, just taking things as they are, apathetically, without interest, wanting for nothing except to fuck girls but not enough to do anything about it, only if they’re delivered to your doorstep.

So here’s the second thing that happened.

Yesterday was coming out day, and a sort of friend-of-a-friend posted their story on facebook. I read it this morning upon waking up.

She mentioned her living situation and how she was living with other women who promised that they would help her, which is, in her words, “a huge red flag”. She says things settled into a routine, and eventually the big problem that she needed help with fell to the wayside in the wake of all of the smaller, but more prolific things: “focused on other fires, both making and putting them out.” She talks about the time she wasted living with these women and how she was “on the edge again”. She trusted people she loved and that loved her to help her, and they couldn’t. But then, after hitting a very low point, she had a breakthrough:

I did something I'm not sure I'd ever done before in my life: I took the initiative to help myself. I researched, found, and made an appointment with a therapist who specialized in this sort of thing. I worked through a tremendous amount of repression. I did mental exercises to actively re-wire my brain, and unlearn my unhealthy coping mechanisms. It was painful.

And then, she wrote this:

Maybe my point is that you can't entrust your journey (ugh, hate that term) to anyone else. You can't let other people tell you who you are or are not. No matter how much you love and trust someone, they cannot do the work for you. They can facilitate it, as [redacted] failed to do, but in the end, it's you... get help, get the best and most objective and impartial help you can, do not let yourself be held hostage by people or environments or your own fucking apathy which benefit from you being inert.

When someone you love offers you help, it's normal to want to take the help, and oftentimes you should. But sometimes, it's too much to give, or they have their own problems or motives, and the help is unreasonable to expect. Do not turn yourself over to someone. Deal with these things on your own terms. Define the terms by which you exist. I lost two fucking years of my life...because I believed that someone else could and would do it for me.

But at least I'm there now. You can get there, too.

I do not know how I can start this journey. I have been trying for ten years, but I have very little direction or resources. I’ve spent the last... god, I guess 8 years, just trying to keep my head above water. Basically since my second year of college, all I’ve really done is survive, and the only times I felt truly alive and like myself were within the rave scene. So I have been clinging to that, and it is a definitive part of me, because it helps me breathe. I don’t think it is “holding me back” because I am not heading anywhere. But I have spent so long gasping for air that I’m almost nauseous from taking a breath. Since I was really young I have cared about electronic music, somewhat in defiance of my live musician parents [drum machines have no soul], and going to thunderdome in a week (!!!) or so is like a pilgrimage to gabber mecca, but also a kind of zenith. 

where do i go from here? I’ve said I want to DJ just because parties dont play the music I want to hear, but within the last few years I have felt myself so plugged up and insecure that I don’t know what I want. I’m too old to be precocious and have lost some of my identity in that way because of it. Now that I’m getting older, I feel like I don’t have permission to be new at things. But I have been restrained by permission my whole life. I have earned money yet i’m not allowed to pay for things. I earned my driver’s license by myself yet i’m not allowed to leave my house. i am controlled by my mother’s desperation and neediness and guilt, and by my father’s disconnect and judgment. I am controlled by my siblings’ apathy and my friends’ disappointment in me. i am afraid of not being perfect because then my parents won’t want me, so i put off things that i even want to do and i fear messing up, fear not acquiescing, fear not providing something expected of me, because i will be hurt.

but ultimately i am constrained by my own fears, my fear of pain. i am hurt by the thought that my parents don’t love me and that, to them, i just exist when convenient also, only when they can brag about me, only when they need something done. “I’m worried you don’t get out enough,” my mom says, but all she can offer are words because her heart is closed. she loves by worrying, by stifling, by pity. and i dont want to continue that. i dont want my love to be just good intentions. i want it to be good actions. love, love is a verb.

“I took the initiative to help myself. ... It was painful.”

There is a lot of red tape between my life and my parents’ control. and sometimes doing any action is so exhausting that I cannot do anything for the rest of the day. But I don’t want to be Pockets, waiting for the people who control me to start loving me actively, to have faith in their control benefiting me somehow. I’ve done it before by getting my license by myself. It was slow, and agonizing, and incredibly difficult and drawn-out, but I have it, and it’s mine, and my mom “felt bad”, but I can’t care. Now it’s just a matter of literally getting out the door, without the inquisition, without the mire of their guilt. I am genuinely starving, living on bread and half-expired milk and soda, because I am tired of making my mom cry by asking her to buy things, or coming home with things that, if I had only asked, she would have gotten for me.

I am not asking anymore. I am just going to go get things myself. It will make her cry. She will cry that she is “obsolete”, and that she has “no purpose”, and that she “lives for her kids”, and it will be painful. Like Pockets, I have wasted over ten years of my life banking in good intentions, on the trust that people who love me will help me. Or the trust that even people who are paid to help me will help me. 

"Do not turn yourself over to someone. Deal with these things on your own terms. Define the terms by which you exist."

Asexuality is a term that has helped. It gave me more agency in my verbs, of making a command decision about how I approach sexuality, whereas before I was giving myself, in every imaginable interpretation of the phrase, over to someone else. It hurts that I have to fight so much, that I must fight constantly for personhood, even from those who claim they would do anything to give it to me, even from those who physically did give me personhood. 

For my entire life I have thought my bloodline cursed. I have lived beneath the shadow of my father's greatest failure. I hated him for what he had done. I hated him for the burden he left me. But now... You have shown me truths that I would have never known. You and your allies have gifted me with something that cannot bear a price: Redemption. Thrall, redeemer of the Mag'har, you honor me as none ever have... On this day, a great burden has been lifted from my chest. My heart swells with pride. And for the first time, I can proudly proclaim who I am. I can finally unleash the fury in my heart. 

As long as I know what I stand for, even if I don’t know what I want or how to get it, I can get there. Because I’ve done it before.

When the bread was finished, the tired little red hen asked her friends, “Who will help me eat the bread?” “I will,” barked the lazy dog. “I will,” purred the sleepy cat. “I will,” quacked the noisy yellow duck. “No!” said the little red hen. “I will.” And the little red hen ate the bread all by herself.

Not that I even have my first tattoo yet, but if I ever get a second one, it should be a little red hen on my wrist. It can be my personal shorthand for “take it easy, but take it”. 

[babeimagineus]

Roommates pt2

pt2 of Roommates. Wow. btw working on pt3. Enjoy!

“Do you remember yesterday?” 

You began to think about those words carefully, your hangover still evident, making your senses slow down a bit. You do remember drinking a lot with Sarah and the others but with serious tone Justin was using right now, it made you think something bigger happen. 

“No.. why?” 

Justin pauses eating for a moment. 

“You were very touchy.” 

Your eyes bulge at this single comment. You were known to be very flirty and touchy, even Andrew would complain about this. 

“Did I-we do anything?” 

“You offered to give me head.” You face automatically burns in embarrassment at this comment. You did not believe his words. Justin, Jazmyn’s little brother, you. This is not how you wanted Justin to view you. You were not this type of person. Justin was like a little brother to you. This was not happening. You began to think you were going to faint soon. 

“Oh my, Justin i’m so sorry. I was not thinking straight.” 

Your eyes began to water, wanting to cry out right now. 

“I can’t believe I would do that to you. You know I only see you like a brother, nothing more, definitely not that way. Please don’t-” Justin jumps up and holds you still by the shoulder. You didn't even know you were shaking so much. 

“It's ok Y/N.” 

You hug him as a desperate move to apologise. You wanted nothing but to go on your knees and beg for your stupid mistake. Justin wraps his arms around your shoulder, pulling you in a tight warm embrace. Your body suddenly dying down from shakiness, you began to feel calmer. 

“I’m sorry Justin.”

“Justin! Are you nearly ready?”

You call his name at the top of your lungs, despite him only being next door to your room, that was how lazy were you. You and Justin decided to go out tonight and visit the new club that was opening today. You were already dressed. You check yourself in your full length mirror. Your dress was strapless, black and figure hugging. It was a little short you thought but you’ve been dying to wear it once so you couldn't help yourself to give up the opportunity. Your hair was done nicely, makeup done to perfection, you couldn't wait to have some fun, hoping maybe to meet a guys even. 

You looked down at your feet. They were so sore and aching you didn’t really want to wear heels but what else could you do. Justin was taking his time in the shower, you thought. He just came back from the gym, that kid never skips the gym. You make your way to kitchen. You check the time on your phone, 10:31pm. The event started at 11pm. 

You settle you phone on the counter and open the fridge to take out your favourite orange juice. You take a big gulp. You sigh. This shit was so refreshing. You clumsily settle down the carton, not even thinking and it causes your phone to bumped off and fall in the gap between the gap and the fridge. You now feel like slapping yourself for being so stupid. The drop was so loud, you prayed that your phone wasn't damaged. 

Justin, being busy in the shower, could even hear the loud sudden noise. He gets startled a bit. 

“Y/N! Are you ok there?” 

He receives no reply. He starts to panic a little. He quickly wraps a towel around his waist and rushes out. He walks out, surprised to see you bent over the counter. Your dress was risen, showing a good portion of your back thighs and out peaked your lace panties. He suddenly wishes he didn't come out, he freezes at the sight. 

“UGHH.” 

You groan out in frustration, your arm was too short to reach it, you were so close. You raise up one leg, attempting to hopefully climb up the counter top and reach for the damn phone. This action causes your legs to even spread more, allowing Justin to see it, leaving very little imagination to his hungry eyes. He stood there, unable to take his eyes from the sight in front of him. The groans that left your went straight to his manhood. Dirty images of what he could do to you right now flashed through his head. 

You reach down a little further, allowing your fingertips to grasp the phone. 

“A-ha!” 

You jump from you position. Finally you thought! You check close to examine your phone. You were lucky, you thought. The phone was good as new. You spin your body around, only to spot Justin standing there. He quickly turn his body around, attempting to hide whatever was going on behind his towel. 

“Justin, are you ready yet?!” 

You yell/whine out at him for being lazy and slow. He doesn't reply, instead walks a bit faster to his room. You didn't think this was strange instead you just wished he wouldn't make you guys late. 

“You better not make us late!” 

You yell out, warning him seriously.

You jump out the car quickly. You were so excited. You walk quickly beside Justin, linking your arms together. 

“Are you gonna drink tonight?” 

Well, Justin was only 20 you thought, so he shouldn't even be drinking. 

“Yeah.” You hear him mumble. 

You playfully smack his bare lower arm, “you better not.” 

“whatever.” 

He glances down at you. You smile at him and giggle at his funny monotone. 

“Yeah thats right! I’m gonna kill you if I see you drinking boi!” 

Justin smiles and shakes his head at your childness. 

The loud music blares in your ears. Wow this club was packed and you could see why. The places was so large yet looked small due to the amount of people in it. You spot Sarah and your other workmates. They see you too and wave out to you, signalling you to join them. 

“Justin!” You yell above the loud dance music, “I’m gonna join my friends!” 

“Yeah, me too!” 

He spots his a few of his college friends drinking and laughing together. You guys separate your ways. 

“Justin! BRO!” 

Khail, Justin’s bestfriend, spots his arrival and welcomes him, hyping his out his name. The others see Justin as well, shuffling over to let him sit beside Khail. Khail being drunk already, sloppy hands him shots of vodka. 

“Drink up, we have a long day ahead!” 

Justin attempts to push it out of his grasp. Khail simply laughs at Justin’s action but doesn’t question him. As time passes by, you start to hype up due to a couple of drink. You stumble your way to the dance floor, along with sarah. You sway your hips to the beat, you hands touching up your body. You danced like no one was watching you. Little did you know, Justin had his eyes on you the whole time. You were hard not to miss. Many eyes were on you, including hungry eyes from the guys and evil glances from the girls. Justin sees this and tries to ignore the fact he wasn’t alone. 

“Woah.” Khail exclaims as he spots you, “She’s good aye?” 

Justin narrows his eyes at khail, now noticing the whole crew was eyeing you out. Za, being a stupid drunk as he was decided to live up to pass everyone's expectation. He walks up towards you and quickly grabs you by the waist. You see you have company. Your mind was fuzzed and dazed, you weren't even sure if you were still standing or if you eyes were opened. You definitely didn't care that Za slipped his hand a lit lower. 

“Baby girl, what’s your name?” 

“Y/N” you slur out. 

You throw your arms around his neck, pulling closer, using him for support. He wraps his arms around your waist, before slipping a hand underneath your dress. You pull away from the sudden unwanted action and try to swat his hand away. 

“Stop.” 

“What’s the matter? Don't you wanna get it on?” 

Za says this to prove a point to his friends. Justin sees what was happening. He breaks free from Khail and the surrounding girls around him as he sees you walking to the bathroom. 

“Y/N?” 

Justin spots your hunched over the toilet, letting out whatever you drank tonight. He pulls your hair away gently. You raise you to your feet, wiping off your saliva with your backhand. 

“I think we should get home now.” Justin carefully walks you to his car, watching you lazily slump dead in the back seat. He mentally sighs. You were a big mess. During the car ride, Justin checks a few times in the mirror, making sure you ok. 

“Y/N. We’re home. Get up.” 

Justin didnt want to put with you anymore, too many emotions taking over him at one. Even though he was angry with how you turned out, he couldn't help but soften and take care of you. Justin carefully picks you up with ease and swings open the door with the other hand. He drops you down on you bed. 

“Change out of your clothes and take a shower.” 

You don't reply, to lazy to even move an inch, you were acting like a kid. 

“Y/N. I know you’re awake. Stop being stupid.” 

You pout out at his words. You sit up and whine at his comment. 

“Take it off for me then!” 

You childishly whine until he finally gives up and unzips your dress. You stand up to shuffle out of your dress, leaving you in your bra and panties. Justin turns his head away from you quickly. 

“Take a shower ok?” he instructs, still facing his face away. 

“Do it for me!” You whine out again. 

He grips your back and pushes you, indicating he was fed up with our actions. 

“I hate you.” You march your way to the bathroom. 

You fall flat against your bed, face flat on your pillow. You groan as you feel the stress fading off and you fall asleep instantly.

Not being able to get a wink of sleep, justin jumps out of bed. He walks out of bed and into the kitchen, grabs a water bottle before heading off the 24 hour gym at 6am. Hours later, you wake up. Dead or alive you realise you needed to get up as it was already 3 in the afternoon. 

First thing you realise is your pounding head. Not this again. You walk into your bathroom and point a deathly finger into the mirror and make a stupid promise to never drink again, even though you know you would. You scrub your face harshly, removing you excess makeup and  continue to scrub your face clean, almost wanting to washing off yesterday's events. You didn't remember what happened yesterday but you just prayed you didn't do anything silly, like blow Justin or anyone for that matter. 

Pulling you hair in a bun, you walk into the kitchen, you stomach empty and rumbling like a awaking storm. Speaking of storms, the weather today was pretty bad. It was cold and outside seemed like it was going lightening was approaching very soon. You realise Justin wasn’t home, you were about to call him but he suddenly comes through the front door. 

“Hey where have you been?” 

“Gym. I took a shower there. Want to go out for lunch?” 

You were hungry so why not. 

“Are you paying?” 

He walks past you to go change into something weather appropriate. 

“Are you?!” You yell out at him. 

“Get changed Y/N!” He yells back at you. 

You laugh at him, he was just too cute sometimes. You loved messing around with him. You quickly whip on some jeans, thinking sweatpants were attractive at all. You didn't want Justin to think you were a slob or anything. You start to panic as you can’t find anything else to wear. You sigh as your head started to get dizzy. 

“Hurry up. I’m driving.” 

He was already leaving. You give up and walk out wearing a black v neck t shirt, you just hoped it wasn't going to rain anytime soon. You run out the door, grabbing your phone in one hand and your low white converse shoes in the other. You run to the door, attempting to open the passenger door. This idiot locked the door! 

“Open up you idiot!” You frown. You see him poking his tongue out at you. He finally clicks open the door. You huff as you throw your shoes in the car, before sitting down, keeping your face away from you. He chuckles at your actions. 

“Stop acting so down Y/N. You always play tricks on me.” 

“Was the payback?” 

“Yup!” He says with his eyes on the road, popping the ‘p’. So this was a game? You knew how to play. You would definitely win.

After the short trip, you finally realise your destination. 

“Seriously, The cheesecake factory?” 

“What's wrong with it?” 

“I don't need to gain anymore weight, idiot.” 

You were quite, ‘chubby’ as Andrew would say, especially your stomach and thigh area. 

“Weight, where?” 

“Quit joking around Justin.” 

Your voice flattered, showing justin you were dead serious. 

“I’m not joking.” 

He flicks his eyes to your face for a second. You had a frown upon your face. Justin wanted to tell you in a serious matter you were beautiful, that you were perfect, sexy and amazing and that you were definitely not ‘fat.’You were so blind, Justin was caught by your breathless beauty as soon as he laid eyes on you.  

BEEP BEEP! A loud honk knocks Justin back to reality. 

“Shit.” he mutters, driving quickly to turn left. It was a green light. 

“Idiot! What time did you even wake up, still asleep I see.” 

Justin shakes his head back to reality and drives to find a carpark.

“Just wear it. Stop being picky.”

 Justin chucks his hoodie that as left in the back seat at you. It was now starting to rain, spitting now, the weather didn't look like it'll die down anytime soon. 

“Its too big.” 

You continue to make excuses. A sudden blow of cool air washes past both of you. You shake out, goosebumps rising along your bare arms. 

“See? Its fucking cold. Dont complain, I tried helping.” 

You sigh out loud, not really having an option. You pull on his hoodie and sneak your head out. Wow the smell was quite nice you thought but now you realise your hair was now ruined out of its bun. 

“Seriously! My hair!” You whine. 

Justin rolls his eyes at you. He pulls the hair tie out, letting your curls out, effortlessly framing your face. 

“Let's go.” Justin starts walking. 

“Wait for me.” 

You run up to catch up to him, not caring about your hair anymore.

“What are you having?” 

You rack your eyes across the menu, not really knowing what to eat. You seriously were bad. You didn't want to eat what you always eat, you wanted something ‘different.’ 

“What are you having?” You ask him back. 

He flicks the menu, pointing to what he wanted. 

“Yeah, i’ll just get that too. Minus the dessert.” 

Justin shuffles his eyes up at you with a ‘are you serious’ look. 

“What?!” you huff.

Before Justin you scold you again for being stupid, he spots Andrew with his friends. 

“What are you looking at?” 

Justin finally adverts his eyes back to you with a low cough, trying to not make it obvious. 

“We’ll just order now.”

“Is the food good?” 

“This is so cheesy, very yummy!” You say through a full mouth, your cheeks being hollowed out. 

Justin simply chuckles at you. 

“Good. you better finish it up.” 

“Why did you order two desserts. I hate you.” You glare at him. 

“Just eat it.” 

Justin was glad everything was going so smoothly, he would sometimes glance at Andrew and his crew. He was surprised Andrew hasn't spotted them. From this distance, Andrew looked ‘happy.’ he didn't even look like he was missing you at all. He was laughing, smiling and enjoying life. You on the other hand was crying yourself to sleep, drinking and a mess. The first few days were the worst. Now, after a month and a half, it was fine. But this did not mean you didn’t think or miss him. 

The two girls along with the two guys setted with Andrew all looked like scums. The brunette girl would glance back at Justin a couple of times. 

“So how college going?” 

You break Justin out of his own world. He shakes his attention back to you. 

“Good.” 

“Are you studying?” 

“What else would I be doing in my room.” 

He says as he chews harshly on his food, trying to ignore a ‘happy’ Andrew. 

“Is the business thing, actually working out?” 

“Yup,” He popps the ‘p.’ 

He suddenly meet eyes with Andrew. Andrew’s eye widen, recognizing Justin. Justin tries not to freak out as he sees Andrew and the brunette coming to them. He quickly reaches and harshly pull the hood on your head. 

“What the f-” 

“Justin was it?” You recognize the voice immediately. 

Andrew still hasn't noticed Y/N, only seeing the back of her, besides your frame was fully covered by Justin’s large clothes. 

“Stop checking her out dude. Brianna thinks you’re a fucking creep.”

 Justin chuckles and cough, “girlfriend?” 

“No-” “Yes.” 

Both Andrew and Brianna cuts each other off. 

“Does fuck buddies consider a girlfriend?” Andrew huffs out at Brianna. 

Wow, Justin thinks to himself, he did feel bad for Brianna, she was a pretty girl, he was just glad Y/N was away from him. 

“What are you laughing at kid.” 

Andrew returns his attention to Justin. 

“Is this your fucking girlfriend? Aye? Nosy fucker.” 

Justin ignores the name calling. The neighbouring tables notice Andrew’s loud words, they all eye him out. Andrew gets a big angry at this now. Andrew sees Justin’s smirk and wants nothing but to punch him right now. 

“You fucking wank. You fucking took Y/N. Why does she even fuck with a small kid like you.” 

Y/N hears this. She stands up and faces Andrew. 

“Stop being so full of yourself, for once in your life. Why do you think everyone else is the problem, when you are the problem.” 

Andrew’s eyes fires up at the very situation, knowing this all too familiar. He knew how to win, you guys had been together for over one year. 

“What are you doing here. Are you seriously with that kid?” 

“So what if I am. Hes hundred times better than you.” 

Before you got so fired up, you walk out past to get some air, you didn’t want to start yelling and cause a scene. You could hear Andrew’s firing back at you with nasty words. You start to feel the tears approaching as the cool air blows across you. You miss him, you really do. You wanted nothing but to go back with him but seeing that he has moved on you couldn’t. Brianna was pretty, prettier than you, skinnier than you. You saw her fucking stomach in the crop top, flat as a pan. He was always into model like figures. He would always persuade you to wear little clothes, then he would always scold you for looking like a ‘pig’ in them. 

“Hey.” 

Justin’s quiet voice makes you turn around to face him. Justin sees the tears running down your face, the red nose and bloodshot eyes. 

“Aw, baby. Come here Y/N.” 

He hugs you, squeezing you, a hand at the back of your head, stuffing you on his shoulder, almost making you lose your breathe. 

“Uhhh-h, stop. Justin. can’t .breathe.”

“Good. Stop, crying like a baby then.” 

You start to push away, pushing your hands at his hard chest, he didn't move at all. You begin to give up, eyes not in the mood in crying but in the mood of killing Justin! He moves away and holds your face tightly, squishing your cheeks together. 

“Are you finished crying little baby?” Justin titles his head, teasing you. 

You start to smack him repeatedly.

“You’re dead!”