𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐱 | 𝟣𝟪+

|6| ℐ𝓃𝓉ℯ𝓇ℯ𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝓊𝓇𝓃 ℴ𝒻 ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓃𝓉𝓈

She scoffs "I don't think I'm going to,
you know we're always busy on Friday
and you decided not to show up."

Some people look at us and I feel
discomfort in my back;
I cross my arms and look at her. I'm
not going to beg for this job or her.

I didn't want to leave and I can't
control being fucking kidnapped.

She'd probably apologize if she knew
what happened but I have no interest
in her apology or sympathy.

She glares at me and hands a glass
of alcohol to one of the waitresses.

"Maybe hear her out Celeste."

A deep voice says from behind me, I
turn my head and see the fighter I saw
when I first came in "I'm Emilio,"

He offers me his hand and
I hesitate to shake it but know
if I don't it will become awkward.

I push my discomfort and feelings
to the side and shake his hand.
He smiles and
looks at an annoyed-looking Celeste

"Fine, what happened." She asks,
I look at the ground
and try to come up with something

"A man came into the bar while
you were gone, Wade
was on break and I was by myself." Everything I just said was true so technically I'm not lying. "Oh god!"

She looks at me with widen eyes as
she throws down a towel "You slept with him!" Disgust fills me, thinking about
the man, and his hands, the gross words.

I shake my head and Emilio looks at me
with concern. My breathing becomes
unsteady but I pretend none of
these thoughts have any effect on me.

"Celine are you-" Emilio starts to speak
but I blurt out "I'm sorry, I'll go."
Before anyone can say anything I turn
around and leave.

•~~~~~~~~~~❀❀❀~~~~~~~~~~~•

I've been walking around the city
for an hour, I see a small
24-hour diner and walk toward it.

I'm so exhausted and any drink sounds amazing. I feel like I'm being followed
and any time I look around
I can't see anyone but I trust my gut.

I doubt anyone will follow me into the
diner. Most of the red booths
are empty but there are some people,

Everyone looks so upset which
doesn't help the whole "Push"
my feeling away thing.

I sit in the booth that's in the furthest
corner and wait for the waiter to come
over. A boy that looks around
Dylan's age- making me think of him.

I should've apologized to him, I would
be devastated if Hannah or Dylan died.

The boy hands me a menu with a smile
andsays "What would you like to drink?"

I try to return the same smile but I
struggle "Water, please." He nods
and walks toward the kitchen.

I put my arms on the table and lay
against them. I close my eyes and
think, describing what I'm thinking
about would be a disaster because I'm always thinking of multiple things and
I'm always feeling indescribable things.

It's exhausting.

"Diners aren't really your style, Marcy"
I don't even have the energy to deal
with him or anyone for that matter,
like I just said, it's exhausting.