Pose | Fuenciado

16

*The only reason this update is happening is kpop. That shit motivates me in some odd way. *

Vic is still locked in his bedroom three hours later. I haven't left the couch.

We haven't ever really fought, is this a fight? I wasn't arguing. He was the one that stormed away when I expressed concern.

It's just so out of character for him. He's probably just having a day... but he was his cheery self before tomorrow's shoot was brought up.

I shrug it off, ignoring the warning bells going off in the back of my mind.

Now, with a pissy boyfriend behind a locked door, where am I going to sleep? I could just go back to my apartment, leave Vic a note. I think I might do that, it seems to be the most logical thing. And Vic's couch isn't that great for sleeping.

I quietly pick up my empty styrofoam take out container and close the lid on Vic's cold and unfinished chicken.
I toss my container into the blue recycling bin in the kitchen, and put Vic's in the fridge. He'll probably come out later tonight looking for something to eat.

I quietly close the fridge, a long sigh escaping my lips. I'm worried about Vic. This just isn't like him.
What worried me further is that the apartment is silent besides my own breathing. Vic always, always has music playing when he's alone. Or he'll be strumming one of his many guitars. But the house is silent.

I write out a quick note so Vic doesn't think I left being cross with him or something.
Vic-
Gone home. Your chicken is in the fridge. Text me.
xx Jaime

I leave the note on the counter, near the coffee maker, where he'll be sure to see it.

I grab my camera bag from the living room and sling my jacket over my shoulders. I unlock the heavy wood door and step into the chilly hallway.

This was the first place Vic kissed me.

I close the door as quietly as I can, locking it with Vic's spare key that hangs from my own chain, behind me.

I shove my hands into my jacket pockets, and head down the nine flights of stairs, avoiding the elevator. If I let myself stop moving I'll just worry more.

My car's engine roars to life and I carefully pull out onto the road. It's only eleven, but the road is empty, the only light coming from the street lights.

My tattooed thumbs run back and forth over the smooth steering wheel. Some pop punk track quietly plays through the car. I run my tongue over my teeth again and again, a nervous habit I've had for years.

I contemplate texting Vic once I get home. Just a simple "are you okay?" Or maybe I should call him, no, he didn't want to talk face to face, he probably doesn't want to talk on the phone, either.

I rest my head on the steering wheel after pulling into my parking space and cutting the engine. I let out yet another sigh, maybe I can break the world record for most sighs in one day.

I'm overreacting, I know it. There's nothing wrong, Vic is just having a day and that's fine. We're fine. Everything is fine.

I haul myself up to my apartment, dumping my bag and jacket on the ground by the door, I'll get it in the morning.
  I pull my phone from my jean's pocket and pull up Vic and I's conversation.

You okay? xx

I send the message and quickly turn my phone off again, anxiety swirling through my being.

I stay still for a few moments, but when there's no reply I toss my phone onto the bed and head to the bathroom to shower. I need a moment to just relax and stop worrying myself more than I need to. I'm such a mom.

**
The afternoon is bright, there's that little chill in the air that I love. There's no traffic, the roads almost clear, at least on this end of town.
I'm picking Vic up from his shoot this morning, he replied to my text last night, saying he wanted a ride home. I'm taking it as an "we're okay I was just being a little bitch don't worry" thing.

I enter the large building and walk up to the reception desk. The shoot was for a company neither of us have had any experience with, and have heard little about.

I ask the lady for the room Vic's shoot was in, after a few questions she smiles and points me in the direction of one of the photography studios, saying the shoot should be done or quickly finishing up. I thank her and head down the hall, a small smile tugging at my mouth at the thought of Vic.

Even just a night apart makes me clingy, I can't wait to have the small brunet in my arms again. He'll smell like make up and hair products that aren't his, but that's okay, it washes out.

I find Vic's shoot room with ease, and the information on the door erases any confusion. My hand is on the door knob, my eyes glancing over the info sheet as I start to push the door open.

There are two things I find weird as I look over the sheet, my door opening pausing. One, there are two models listed. Vic never does shared shoots. He's always solo. Second, the theme of the shoot is "intimate,". I press my lips together, sure that there's nothing weird going on behind the door, and open it fully.

No, there's nothing weird going on.

But there's something absolutely heart breaking infront of me.

Vic.

My beautiful Vic.

Has his tongue shoved down a super toned shirtless guy's throat. His slim hands tangled in perfectly maintained blond hair.

"I love you, too." I say, sarcasm and pain dripping from my voice. My body is numb.

The two break hastily apart after I speak, Vic's eyes spring open, gaze directly on me.

And with that, I step backwards out of the room, slamming the door behind me.