the quinnblake breakup

Act I Part I

Finally. After a long night out, I was home. I could feel my bed calling to me from the other side of the door. Of course, I had a great day, the party was fun as hell, but I was tired, and there wasn't really anything quite like crawling into your own space after a day full of excitement. I fumbled with my key and entered the room. I pulled the door shut, trying to be as quiet as possible since it was so late. After all, if Quinn was asleep, I didn't want to wake him.

But, luckily, he wasn't yet, which was good news to me- we could watch a movie or something together before I fell asleep. I glanced over, hoping he wasn't too busy. He was at his desk- I couldn't quite make out what exactly he was doing, but knowing Quinn, he was probably sketching something. If I had to guess, a tattoo idea, most likely.

"Hey, Quinn." I greeted

He paused his activity and slowly turned to glare at me.

"What were you up to?" He asked, not bothering to return my greeting. He tried to keep a straight face, but I could tell he was mad. I just didn't have a clue why. "How come you're getting home so late?"

"I was at a party. Why is it your business?" I retorted, getting defensive. I had a fun night, did he really have to ruin it and start shit right now?

"Because, why are you sneaking off to go to some party I don't know about?" He stood up.

"The fuck are you talking about? Sneaking off?" I scoffed. "I went to a party like I have every single Saturday for the past year. If you wanted to know where I was, you could've texted me."

"I did. A lot of times." He was getting red in the face, now. "I had to call like, eight people to find out where you were!"

Well, shit. I quickly glanced down at my phone in my hand. 7 missed calls. Oops.

I knew I was in the wrong, but the words were coming out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"Okay? So I was fucking busy? Sorry I like to go out and have a good time instead of locking myself away doing fuck-all!" I gestured to the pile of papers at the desk, attempting to take a dig at his hobbies.

Quinn furrowed his brows. "You mean, studying the weekend before a fucking final? This is why your grades- God! Whatever, that's not even the point!" He threw his hands up. "There's only one thing you'd be that busy doing, that you couldn't answer my calls." He paused, as if waiting for me to confess something.

"Sorry, I'm not fucking delusional like you, so I don't know what you're getting at." I crossed my arms. He was starting to really annoy me.

"Oh, don't pretend. I know you were out fucking other people." He spat.

Oh. My fucking God. That's what this was about?! I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to keep my composure. There was a lot of shit he could say about me, and rightfully so, but that was not one of them. Did he actually think that low of me?

"Quinn, you cannot be fucking serious right now." Now I was the one getting in his face. "I am NOT a cheater." I snapped, poking him hard to emphasize my words. "You know I don't fuck with that kind of shit. Jesus!"

"No, actually, I don't know! You're constantly telling me about how we 'aren't really boyfriends' and that we'll 'never be that serious'? So, please tell me, what is stopping you from cheating?" He questioned.

So, the real reason he's mad comes out. This shit, again.

"Are you dumb? That's exactly why you should know better." I tilted my head. "If I wanted to sleep around, I wouldn't have even bothered with a label for us in the first place! It's the only reason I did!" It was a complete lie, but I knew it stung.