Chapter 22: Drowning My Tears

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*Miranda's POV*

The next few days were a living hell. I hadn't left the house or even showered in three days. All I did was eat ice-cream, while watching sad movies and listening to sad songs, in between fits of sobbing.

I was a complete and utter mess. This whole situation with Josh had sent me in a severe downward spiral. I couldn't believe he could just ditch me like that, for that stupid Carrie, without even saying good bye. He led me on, made me think he was interested, then kicked me to the curb.

Although it was really only a short time that I spent with Josh, I felt like I'd known him for so much longer, because I was such a fan for so long. This made getting over it that much more traumatic.

After the third day, I knew enough was enough. I needed some real food anyways, a girl can only live so long off of packaged noodles, and I had just finished my last spoonful of Rocky Road ice-cream.

I hopped in the shower, put my hair up in a messy bun, and got dressed. I slipped into an oversized navy hoodie, and wore some lounging pants. I skipped putting on makeup, and put my hood up, wanting to go unnoticed.

I went downstairs in the elevator, and got into my car.

The radio station was playing "Cross My Heart." Sighing, I changed the channel. I wasn't ready to face the music, so I drove to the grocery store in silence.

Once I arrived, I grabbed a basket and started looking around in the food aisle. I put some fruit in it, then made my way to the frozen aisle to restock my ice-cream supply. Of course, the chocolate chip cookie dough one that I wanted was out of my reach. I set the basket down and started climbing the shelf.

"Need some help with that?" a man with blonde and blue hair asked me. I looked out from under my hood.

"Not from you," I said rudely, grabbed some Vanilla ice-cream instead, and stormed off.

"Oh, it's you," Josh said. I turned around.

"Don't 'oh it's you' me! Don't pretend like I'm the one in the wrong here! You broke my heart," I yelled, tears stinging my eyes.

He looked around nervously. "Keep your voice down," he ordered.

"And why? So you're little girlfriend doesn't hear you're talking to me?" I demanded to know. I was so upset.

"It's not like that."

"Then what's it like then? Please do tell."

"I can't see you anymore," he admitted.

"That's no problem, because I was just leaving," I told him, harshly. I didn't care that I was making a big deal, he deserved to know how I felt. I picked up my basket and stormed off.

"You could've at least warned me about your psycho ex-boyfriend, Marcus!" he called out after me.

Well it wasn't my fault- wait. Who in the Trench of Marianas is Marcus?

*Josh's POV*

It killed me to see Miranda that way. This whole situation was eating away at me, as it was, and seeing her just made it that much worse. I was super quiet and preoccupied all week. Usually my mind is flowing with musical genius, but I could barely concentrate enough to watch tv, let alone write music. I couldn't sleep and when I did, I had nightmares. The band was complaining about how distant I was being, if only they knew what I was going through.

"Don't 'oh it's you' me! Don't pretend like I'm the one in the wrong here! You broke my heart," she shouted, the tears streaming down her face. I wanted more than anything else to wipe her tears away, and tell her that everything was going to be alright.

"Keep your voice down," I told her. For all I know Marcus could be anywhere around here. If he found out I was talking to her he'd probably kill the both of us, plus ruin my band. I shuddered at the thought.

"And why? So you're little girlfriend doesn't hear you're talking to me?" Miranda looked so upset, which is understandable. I was acting like a jerk, but I had to do this to protect us.

"It's not like that." I wished I could explain to her the position I'm in, but I just couldn't risk it.

"Then what's it like then? Please do tell."

"I can't see you anymore," I said, tears threatening to show themselves upon my face.

"That's no problem, because I was just leaving," she told me, harshly.

"You could've at least warned me about your psycho ex-boyfriend, Marcus!" I called out after she stormed off. I had a point, she really could have told me.

I walked off as well, I turned around briefly to see a confused, innocent look on her face. It was painful to see her that way, so I turned around and tried to remember the way she smiled, and danced around. I thought of the incident in the laundry room, and of our first kiss. Well, our first and last kiss.

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