Stubborn and the Mutt

one | new year's

My eyes, after I wipe them, lift up to his head. The side profile of his. I see how he licks his lips right after taking a sip of his alcohol. The bump on the bridge of his nose; not to visible but it's there. The naughty waves of his dark hair — not sure if they appear dark because it's night and the only lights allowing me to analyse him is that of the party — almost cover his eyes, but they sit like a mop on his head. They almost reach the nape of his neck at the back of his head, and from the side, I can see that he tucked some strands behind his ear.

I hate how I'm staring at him.

"I think it's kind of pathetic of you to be crying on a balcony, towering over the rest of these people who are obviously having the best time. You're killing the vibe."

I swallow a blob of saliva and turn away from him, taking a step away from him too. It all comes crumbling down on me once again. Realisation of today. The pain, the words uttered to me. The reason why I'm here crying, like this stupid boy said. My lips tremble and I squeeze my eyes closed, begging myself not to cry again. My heart literally sinks to my stomach and my hands form to fists. Why the hell is he even here? Why isn't he down there, having fun like everyone else, then? Why is he up here bothering me?

It's enough. It's enough. No more tears.

"I... I'm ruining the vibe."

"With your fat ass tears, yes." From the corner of my eye, even despite the tears blurring my vision, I see him lift the red cup to his lips as he moves away from the glass railing, taking steps away as though leaving. "Should have picked a better place to be a cry baby."

A sob escapes me, but I'm shaking my head at his words. "Excuse me for crying, you jerk. Excuse me for having feelings and crying here because I am stranded and can't go home without transport. I'm sorry I'm living in the moment, going through the motions and experiencing hurt and pain. I'm sure... life is nice for you because jerks don't feel hurt. All they know how to do is hurt people. That's all. People cry! People cry, and you shouldn't make matters worse by being a complete pain in the ass. But what should I expect?" I sob as I glance over at him. "Y-you wouldn't know, huh? You don't care. You and your kind. You all don't care. But using girls for your own sick satisfaction, you know all about it, hmm? I had to learn the hard way. Congrats! I did!" I turn back to the crowd, biting my lip in agony when a painful sob escapes me. "I-I did."

Get a grip. He can't be the next idiot to see you in pain.

I press my eyes shut for what I am sure is the hundredth time, and I take deep, shaky breaths to calm my racing heart. I pull down the sleeves of my jersey and wipe my face. My face must be swollen now, as well as my eyes, and I can feel my nose is clogged like some stuffed toilet. I sniff a bit and wipe the underneath when I feel the wet sensation trickling down.

I shouldn't cry for him. He doesn't deserve my tears, and he never did. I should have never let him even think, for even a minute, that he had any right to use me the way he did. He should have never had the impression that I was some sort of doormat. I am, and now he knows, but he should have never thought of that, because that's exactly why I'm here. Crying in the club. The irony.

This isn't even a club, Gert. Cry, girl. Cry.

I hear movement behind me, and my head jolts up, blinking away a few tears. He's still here?

I turn my head to the right. He isn't by the railing. I turn my head towards the balcony sliding door, and he isn't there. He must have left.

Good. It's not like I wanted him here anyway. He did nothing but annoy me and prove why men are trash, with their words, with their actions. With their existence, only, is enough proof. I never expected more after tonight, and I never will. I don't mind marrying 30 cats, after all. At least they are somewhat loyal or something.

I wipe my eyes again, taking a deep breath before stepping away from the railing. I swing my hands back and forth a bit to airdry them, and then I wipe my face once more, swallowing a hiccup. My fingers then grip the ring and I slide it off, before tossing it carelessly on the ground of the balcony. My lips kind of feel dry, so I lick them, and I can kind of feel the small throb at the back of my head. It won't be long before it's a fully grown migraine with the amount of tears I've shed tonight, and I'm certainly not looking forward to that.

I then turn around and walk back into this frat house. Whoever's room this is, is very lucky. It's really nice and spacious with its pastel colours. I walk out the room and into the short passage, heading towards the staircase. As soon as I get to the bottom, I'm met with another crowd, swaying to the music. It's like every human being holds a cup of alcohol, each willing to get to that state of intoxication. Maybe they have their own problems they are trying to get away from, even if it's for the night.

I push through the crowd, muttering a few apologies here and there. I then make it outside, pausing for a bit, debating on whether or not to ask him to just take me home, or just make the walk home now and hope I'll be home in an hour's time. I should have never left my phone on the charger.

Reminder to always charge my phone, especially when I know I'm going somewhere later on.

I make it towards the back of the bigger crowd outside and head towards the direction I know he would be at. Even more, I see him seated with a group of girls and guys, laughing about and drinking his own alcohol. He's obviously having a blast, and I know he won't be happy to see me approach him again. But I need to go home, and since he brought me here, he should be the same person to take me home. Then, he can completely forget I even exist, like he's trying right now.

As soon as I am close by, I call his name a few times to get his attention. "Banele. Banele!"

I don't know if he is avoiding me or he genuinely can't tear me, but his friend does; he taps his shoulder and then points at me to make him aware of my presence. Banele raises his eyebrow at me, as if asking what I want, so I wave him over. My stomach clenches when I see him groan loudly, getting more attention from his friends, and then he stands up and approaches me like it's the last thing he wants to do.

"What?" He hisses as soon as he is before me. He even shakes his head a bit for his dreads to fall loosely over his forehead.

I narrow my eyes at him. "Y-you brought me here, Banele. How am I supposed to get back home?"

"I don't know, make a plan. You're not my responsibility, Gert, so how you get home is not my problem—"

Once again, I feel my heart drop to the pit of my stomach at his words. I can feel my chest tighten up at the reality before my eyes. "Not your problem? I didn't even want to come here in the first place! I wanted to spend New Years back at your house. Just the two of us, but you insisted we come here, so now how I get home is not your problem?" I can't even believe my voice cracks. "You have to take me home!"

"Hey, listen to me, okay? I said I am not taking you home. Find your own way home! Here," he digs his hand into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out loose change. "Get yourself an Uber, I am even giving you the money."

In shock, I slowly take the money he literally shoves into my chest, forcing me to make a step back. I then look at him with wide eyes before throwing the paper right at him. Just then, I hear the countdown happening. He clenches his jaw as he looks at the money sway down to the ground. "I am not using an Uber! There won't be any Uber to take me home at this time, Banele! You have to take me home, or I am stranded here! Your brought me here. You! I didn't want to come..." another round of fat tears start to well up in my eyes, and the slightest blink has them racing down my cheeks like an avalanche.

When the countdown gets to five, he takes a step back from me with his hands stuffed in his jeans and he shrugs. I see his brown eyes blink at me and he frowns. "See, this is your problem. You're stubborn. I didn't force you to come. I suggested we come here, so you could have stayed back at your house, or even said no. I don't care about you anymore, Gert, but I am being nice right now by trying to help you, but you're being stubborn as usual. Throwing the money back at me? Huh? Nah, find your way home."

"Two! One! Happy New Yew Year!"