World Cup [larry stylinson a.u.]

56.0

THE MISTAKE

I enter my bedroom and a heavy sigh escapes from my mouth. I don’t even know what it means but I’m not in the mood to figure it out right now. I do feel weird though. It’s like I’m tired or I don’t know but, just in case this crazy idea comes to your mind, I do not feel sad and regretful at all. The tourist was being immature and disrespectful and I was totally right, as I always am.

I drop my stuff on the floor and I turn to take a look at the bed. Somehow, it seems too big and I don’t like it. I don’t like anything right now. The room smells funny and the flowers on the nightstand are hideous. I bet they are rotten or something. The temperature is not right and the colors on the walls are all wrong and starting to hurt my eyes. I hate this hotel and I’m never coming back here ever again.

“You and Hansel make such a nice couple, since you both have the same mental age,” I say out loud, trying to fake the stupid tourist’s silly accent. What the hell is that accent by the way? I hate it.

And I hate his eyes too. They are too small and… blue. Blue eyes suck. Green eyes kick blue eyes in their butts and everyone knows that. I don’t know why the tourist has to go around life thinking he is special for having blue eyes. That bitch ain’t special.

And I also hate the way he looks at everyone else. Like if he were keeping a secret or something. That’s super weird to me, isn’t it? It’s like he is hiding something. How creepy. He would have probably tried to kill me on my sleep or something and I’m so glad I’m still alive. Good thing that I’m over him already.

Being alone is much better than having a boyfriend. Who wants a boyfriend? I’ve survived my whole life without one so I’m perfectly capable of being alone again. Alone. A l o n e. The stupid word is echoing inside of my head.

I throw myself on the bed and I look around the room. Why is this ridiculous room so big? I’m trying to remember the things I used to do back when I was happy. You know, before the hottie’s ex came to ruin my life. That’s it, I’m never going to call him by his name or nickname ever again. He doesn’t deserve it.

I’m about to fall asleep when an annoying knock on the door wakes me up. “Who is it?” I yell at them but I get no answer. They knock again and, this time, they continue knocking for a while. “Who the hell is it?”

You think it’s the tou… him? God. He just can’t live without me, can he? I stand up and I rush to the door, not without checking how I look on the mirror first. Not because I want to look good or anything, just because… That’s what I do and I do not have to explain myself to anyone. Shut up.

“Who’s there?” I ask one more time when I’m right in front of the door. I get closer to peek through the peephole and when I see him, a big stupid smile draws on my face.

I’m feel so regretful now. I’m just going to open the door and hug him tight and beg him to forgive me. Because I know I’ve been stupid and I know he was right and I admit it, I cannot live without him. I need that bitch in my life, even if it sucks.

I open the door and, right when I’m about to hug him, pride takes over me. Shit.

“What do you want?” I just stare at him.

“Finally,” he enters the room, “I’ve been knocking for hours. What were you doing?”

“Excuse me?” I frown, “Why are you here?”

“What do you mean why am I here?” he shrugs, “This is my room too.”

“No, it isn’t.”