Swapped For Love

Chapter 2.1

Joy's POV

September 7

The night crept in, and I felt more of a stranger to Vincent's life than I did before.

I had always wondered why he never introduced me to his family, but as I stared at the scarce collection of family photos, I got it. He was nowhere as close to them as I was to mine. It made me wonder, why? Maybe because his parents were workaholics?

Was this why his parents never noticed their son acting so strange? Had it really been that long?

His little brother sensed something was wrong with me from the moment he'd seen me. I had only known Vincent for six months, and even I knew a bit more about his preferences than his parents did. His behaviors. What he wanted, what he hated. And yet he was a stranger, just like I was to him now.

Strangers.

Unsure of what to do, I spent time looking through his parents' Harvard memorabilia on his bedroom shelf. I found a couple of pictures of his parents when they were younger, taken at Harvard, as well as a few dollar-store items, and I wondered briefly why he had never mentioned it to me that both his parents graduated from there. It was no wonder they had such high expectations.

Maybe I had had high expectations of him, too?

My tears constantly demanded his attention; my body, my mind, needing his consolation. I was crying about the breakup yesterday when I bumped into Steven at the park. He asked me how I was and tried to give me some advice. But Steven, being Steven, wasn't of much help at all.

And I felt more bleak about the future than ever before.

Should I be happy we ended up in such a situation or should I be worried? What will happen to our lives if this doesn't reverse?

I didn't have the slightest clue.

And that was what scared me the most.

Staring at the his room to distract myself, I sighed at the familiarity. Despite his reckless behavior, he did take good care of his room. I had often thought he was playing hard to get whenever I asked him if we could go out, but looking at that small calendar on his desk which was marked by many different colored pens, he did have a lot going on in his life—more than I had expected. But that also meant there was a much higher possibility of someone finding out I was not Vincent, as ridiculous as it would sound to them.

How long can I keep this up?

***

I had thirty minutes to get to Starbucks and my first thought was, 'might as well class it up'.

The house was immense as I strolled through it; it felt as though you could hear your breath echoing for miles around you. With a spiral staircase, carpeted floors, and expensive paintings, I found myself burning with jealousy. With insatiable desire.

After climbing down several flights of stairs, I managed to locate the garage from inside the mansion. It was a tiny old thing, (or at least, that's how it appeared), hidden from prying eyes, but as I opened the jammed lock, the aesthetics were appetizing. Insane.

You couldn't count the number of cars parked inside here with both hands.

Running my fingers across the hoods of various luxury cars, and twirling Vincent's keys, I debated about which ride to crash, and more importantly, where the hell Vincent's car was.

The white one caught my attention.

Pressing the car alarm, I got closer to Vincent's Mercedes-Benz. Curious, I ran my index finger along its sleek exterior in awe and then hopped in to make my way to Starbucks. Perhaps being Vincent wouldn't be so bad after all.

Besides, I could get used to the wealth. The cars, the exorbitant display of material items.

Vincent had a pretty damn sweet life.

As I cruised to Starbucks, an image of the first time I saw him at the local gym flashed across in my head. It was an unexpected place to meet your blind date, but that was what brought us even closer. Out of all guys I had met, he had seemed...different somehow. Cheeky, mischievous, but kind. Always kind. I was a freshman back then, and he was one year older than me. Neither of us believed in "love at first sight" like most of our friends claimed, so we agreed to be friends at first.

A few weeks later, we bumped into each other and realized we went to the same high school. I smiled as I remembered how we initially only pretended to go out so that our friends would stop, so desperately, forcing us to go on dates they somehow set us up with. But somehow, in the midst of all that charade, I fell for him.

And boy, did it hurt.

At first, I assumed it was just another high school crush that would pass soon, but my heart became greedy. So greedy and so hungry. I confessed my feelings to him a few days later. It was possibly the happiest day of my life when he agreed to a genuine date. A real date.

I finally knew I wasn't alone in all this. In my feelings, in my heart.

I wanted him, and every second I was with him for these past two years, that love festered. Grew. At least, on my end it did. I craved him, needed him, and part of me thought he felt the same. I wished, for more than anything else, that we would always stay together.

Was it too much to ask for?

Apparently, it was. 

Thank you for reading :) I hope you enjoyed reading Joy's POV!