Oblivious

2. fight until you die

"So we're not gonna talk about this? Awesome." I slumped down on the sofa with my arms crossed like a petulant child. Ayden was walking around in the apartment, picking up strewn pieces of dirty clothing and treating me like I wasn't there. At least he was cleaning.

I had waited him out, or so was the plan, but apparently it didn't work. He had given me the silent treatment since stepping inside the apartment half an hour ago.

While he was at the shoot, I had wandered back through the glum weather, planning what I would say, but now it wouldn't happen. All those idiotic lines I meant to voice seemed pointless. I shot him an angry glare, but he didn't look my way.

I was boiling with emotions This went beyond mere irritation. This was different. It was a raging storm that turned my world upside down, and Ayden was responsible.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, I jumped off the sofa. This wasn't working. Storming into my room, I slammed the door shut and proceeded to change into a pair of shorts and a worn out t-shirt. I tied my long forgotten running shoes in desperate need to get out of the apartment before I punched my so called friend in the face.

I didn't bother saying anything on the way out even if Ayden sat hunched over on the sofa, looking anything but happy.

* * * *

Cold, unfriendly gusts of wind battered against my bare skin and damp autumn air drove into my lungs, settling like a block of ice. It was perfect. My shoes were soaked from crisscrossing between scattered puddles of water as I ran. It had barely stopped raining and small droplets were still visible beneath the glowing streetlights. They hovered in the air like a scattered mist and clung to my skin as I passed through. I hated rain. I hated being cold. But right now, it felt good.

I ran until my legs burned—until every breath rasped my straining lungs. My mind was emptied of every thought but one: keep going. It felt too good to stop, but in the end, I had no choice. Pausing at a park bench, I peered across the street and looked at the street sign. I was definitely lost. Clark Street, I had never heard of it. I had no sense of direction, no sense of how far I had run. I looked back the way I came, but it didn't look familiar at all.

Nothing was familiar. I didn't even recognize myself. I wasn't usually this irritable.

Staring down at my numbing fingers, I realized how stupid this was. I wasn't an athlete. I was a chain smoker who hated the very word 'exercise'. In truth, my legs shouldn't have been able to carry me as far as they had. Last time I did some kind of exercise was two months ago when Ayden and I were forced to flee an angry security guard. How were we supposed to know that they didn't want us to break into the lookout tower after hours? Checking out the view at night should be free for everyone.

"Fuck!" I kicked the lamp post in frustration, hoping to dispel the memories of Ayden. This death run hadn't helped me at all. I was still seething, and now I was lost. Perfect!

I didn't even have my phone to guide me home.

I turned to walk back the way I came, jogging slowly to keep myself warm in the cold air. Every step sent a jolt of pain through my body, but it was no use complaining since I had brought this upon myself. I wasn't even blaming Ayden. He never asked me to run.

After ten minutes of jogging, I still didn't recognize a single thing around me. My hands were shaking and I was getting ready to knock on a door somewhere and ask for a blanket as a last resort.

I passed a guy with a massive Great Dane, wondering if I should have stopped him. Strangers in the dark, especially when they had dogs with them, didn't strike me as people to approach. Inhaling a freezing cold breath, I changed my mind.