EVERETT"Oh gosh, yes, fuck me, babe." A woman's voice rings in the long hallway while I climb up the long stairs to my boyfriend's apartment. "Fuck me harder, won't you?" The voices are loud yet hushed. "I can handle it. Pummel into me faster if you can." As I walk closer to his apartment at the end of the hallway, I can see his lights are on, and they brighten the darkness saturating the atmosphere in the long passage leading to his front door. His neighbour who lives on the left side of his apartment is never home since he's always doing a night shift somewhere. The apartment on the right side of my boyfriend's place is currently up for sale. My heart freezes in my chest, and my stomach lurches. Maybe the left-side apartment guy who's prone to working long nights so much so he can proudly call himself a workaholic finally got himself a life and a girlfriend?Tell me why that can't be true?Please remind me of a valid reason, brain."Oh baby, yes, yes, yes, oh bloody fuck yes." The

WAYLONHer eyes are red with tears. They gush out as if someone has turned on a faucet. I didn't expect to be at the end of comforting someone, not since. . ."I caught my best friend sleeping with my boyfriend in his apartment." She quietens down. "It was our third-year anniversary." She runs a hand through her hair as she wipes the tears with the back of her hand. I watch her do that until I can't control myself from touching her. I have this overwhelming need to hug her tightly and caress her hair. I don't know where this urge is coming from within me. My heart is distant from catching feelings, and me having feelings like this for her is almost beyond the horizon. "They betrayed me, both of them." So, I offer her what I can. I grab her palm tightly, tugging at it, hoping she feels what I'm feeling. "Why did they do that to me?"She didn't deserve this.Nobody deserves to be cheated upon by the love of their life.I can feel her pain when I shouldn't."Your boyfriend is a fuckhead.

EVERETT The harsh light from the open window of my living room streams directly on my face. Putting a hand over my face to block the sunlight, I wake up with a pounding as if heavy metal rock music is chorusing in my head. I prop myself on my elbows and rub a finger under my eyelids. With the back of my hand, I get rid of last night's mascara gunk from the corner of my eyes. I sit up, stretching my arms and yawning big. Then all the events from last night hit me at once, and my heart immediately shatters into several tiny pieces. I run a hand over my face in disbelief. Did all those things actually happen? Why does it hurt so much? Is this my life now since it certainly feels like a dream? Gosh, I can't believe this is happening to me. My boyfriend is in bed with my best friend. Why I am a part of a telenovela episode? Then, my eyes fall on the wall clock, and I almost yell. I'm fifteen minutes late to work. I scramble for the washroom to get a quick shower. I pull out a basi

EVERETTI sit on the toilet seat, having second thoughts about what I ate last night for my stomach to hurt this badly. Then I remember I drank a lot on an empty stomach. The rest of the night--after I saw my boyfriend hooking up with my best friend--comes back to me at lightning speed. I press a hand against my tummy, willing the physical pain to fade away along with the emotional pain thrashing around the walls of my heart.My stomach growls loudly, but nothing comes out. I put my face in my hands as sweat beads line the entirety of my hairline. God, did I really do all of that?I forced myself on Mr Waylon fucking Thorne, and he let me?I know I can be a drunken nuisance to be around when I get that drunk, but what in the love of all things good and holy?Why did I have to want him last night?How am I supposed to face him now?Then, my mind skips to the part where he put me in a cab, and before he put me inside it, he held my hands in his and spoke some words. Those words stab me

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