iMessage ϟ S. Stan

|| 70 ||

_____

Hailie sat by the window this time, wanting to look at the New York skyline for a few moment before they ascended into the clouds. It had always interested her, the sky. But not even being thousands of feet in the air could clear her mind from what she was reading.

Her mouth gaped as she read over the article, with Sebastian reading it on his phone too. The hardest part about this was that everything in that article, including the subtext, were all a lie. And the only person that knew the truth was also the only person that Hailie wanted to shoot with a twelve gauge shotgun.

"You have thirty seconds," she muttered, which was directed at Sebastian, and yet she never broke eye contact with her phone.

"It's all fake," he murmured, trying not to raise his volume for the sake of the other passengers, "I went to refill at the south side because...because I needed to buy something, alright? When I reached the gas station, Melissa was there, and she and I were just talking, nothing else. I promise-."

"Ten, nine, eight-."

"Hailie, I would never do that to you!," he whispered, loudly.

"You know," she turned to him, a fixed resting bitch-face plastered on her eyes and mouth, "I'm sorry for acting like a complete bitch when my boyfriend hangs around with the same bitch that wrecked my previous relationship, and caused us to have a long break!"

"God, why do you have to be so difficult?," he gritted his teeth, sighing in frustration.

"Oh, I'm difficult?," she narrowed her eyes at him, "Well, if I'm so difficult, then why the fuck am I seeing this on TMZ?"

"They obviously want to break us up, Hails," he looks at her with innocence.

"Don't 'Hails' me," she scoffs, "Are you fucking around with her?"

"No!," he shakes his head, then holds her hands, "I wouldn't do that to you!"

"Then why are there pictures showing you two together?," she huffs, yanking her hands away.

"I swear to you, I didn't even touch her!," he argues.

"Oh, yeah?," she nods, "Then what're these?"

She flashes her screen to him:

He looks at the pictures, and takes a gulp in. "Look, Hailie, it was one time..."

"One time?!," she exclaims, making Anthony look back at the yelling pair, "What did you do one time?"

"It was meaningless, and it was in Cape Town," he tries to calm her down, "I-I'm sorry, I should've told you-."

"Damn right, you should've told me!," she shouted, then clasping her mouth with the palm of her hand, "How-How could you do that to me, to us?"

"Hailie-."

"It's not the fact that you slept with her, it's the fact that you lied about it," she lets out a shaky breath.

"Hailie, baby, it didn't mean anything," he grabs her hand, sandwiching it between his.

"Why?," she bit her lip, holding back the sobs.

"I-I was drunk, it was at that club-."

"You told me not to worry about her, you told me that she just latched onto you," she murmured.

"She did!," he nods, "I didn't lie about that."

"But you lied about not fucking her!," she says, loudly, letting a few tear drops fall down.

Anthony rolled his head back onto the header of his sear, muttering to himself, "Can someone explain how she has internet?"

"I need to move," she grits her teeth, getting up.

"Hailie, please, let's talk about this," he says, teary eyed.

"Fuck you, Sebastian," she slurs, "We're through. Forever."

"Baby, don't say that...," he chokes back a sob.

"Go fuck Melissa," she growls.

An air hostess runs up to the pair, "Ma'am, I'm going to need you to return to your designated seat."

"That's not a problem, miss," Hailie wipes off some stray tears, then looks back at Sebastian, "I was just moving."

She waddles out of her window seat, goes up a row, and collapses on the seat beside Anthony, pressing her face against her pillow. Sebastian heard her sobs, and quietly listened. He pulled the red box out of the pocket of his jacket and stares at the ring that was supposed to be on her finger right now.

Damn, did he fuck up.