hard » m. phelps

XXVII|Michael

Despite what I had told Nate that night, I didn't return home even after a week had passed. I was too terrified to face Clare.

I didn't want to break my heart right now, all I did was just delay the process.

I kept my promise to Clare, however, and didn't slack off practice, since I really owe her a lot, and this was the least thing I could do.

I had to call Nate one day and ask when she wasn't home so that I could sneak in and grab my swimming tools and bag, plus my speedos, without having to face her. I don't think I could see her without breaking down at my idiocy.

So as I trained my ass off, Nyssa only got more and more depressed as the days passed. The house was a mess, littered with beer cans and cigarette stubs. It constantly smelt like smoke, and the July sunshine just disappeared from the house, dampening our rotten moods even more.

I didn't ask her why she rejected him, seeing as it was none of my business, despite flooding out my heart to her several times. I also didn't want to know her excuses before she tells Nathan; he deserved to be the first to know (after Clare, that is).

We would occasionally glance at eachother, give eachother a knowing nod, or a few nonchalant words. We were both seeking comfort in the other's presence, but it wasn't what we craved for; we desired our better halves.

Nathan was shutting himself out from our texts, and kept the talk at minimal. Of course, I was uncomfortable with the fact that she was stuck alone in a house with a man, but I also pitied her, seeing as she probably hasn't seen daylight in days.

It was 10AM, Monday, 29th of July. I had an interview with the NBC channel at around 6, and I desperately needed my suit and tie, seeing as Nathan's were ripped and torn to shreds since the night he got rejected.

And even if they hadn't been slashed, they would've been two sizes too small, seeing as I was Daddy Phelps.

Yeah, right.

I'm the one who needs his daddy right now honestly.

Anyways, I quickly sent a text to Nathan.

Yo, is she home? I need my formal wear.

I expected him to reply within 5 minutes or so, but was let down to check in on Whatsapp 20 minutes later and find no answer.

I sighed, knowing that he was probably sleeping the heartache off. I couldn't afford to wait a few more hours and risk getting late to the interview, so I decided to just sneak in through the back door, and hope that she isn't home.

Dressed in my oh-so-glamorous neon yellow Adidas hoodie and black jeans, I walked into the living room to find Nyssa binge watching The Big Bang Theory on Netflix. I cleared my throat, causing her to look up with tired eyes.

"I'm heading home to grab some of my stuff."

"Will you talk things out?" she croaked.

"Actually, I was sort of hoping that she wouldn't be there, seeing as Nathan–" she looked down, "Er, he didn't give me the all-clear," I rubbed my neck.

She nodded, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.

"Have fun bro," she grunted, eying the TV.

I rolled my eyes, knowing that she was too busy staring down actors' abs and comparing them to Nate's six pack.

I decided to walk there, because my car would sort of give it away. I mean, how many other people you know own a sleek Mercedes with their signature on their nameplate? Zero to none.