Do you love me? ~ Smosh Fanfiction

Chapter XXXXII ~ Misty ~ Scrambled Thoughts, Scrambled Feelings

It's only Friday night. The weekend technically hasn't even started.

He really didn't care, just as I'd began to think. I was getting all this suffering which was affecting absolutely everything I had, and he didn't care, did he?

So why did he want me? 

Even if he did love me, he'd lied. He'd reassured me thousands of times that it would all be okay, that everything the fans were saying was a lie. But the Lily stuff was true. He'd kept me up for some reason: probably to obtain some extra money by letting me stay.

I want Ian in my arms, but I want to push him away for betraying me. I want to kiss him, but I want to duct tape his mouth so he can't lie to me again. I want to love him, but I feel like I can't, I shouldn't, I wouldn't.

But I know I still am in love with him, even if he doesn't give a fuck about me.

Where do I go now?

I looked down at my dress in the dim light. It was crinkled and creased. I was still grasping my clutch bag, which had fingernail marks across the clasp. There was tears rolling steadily from my eyes which I knew wouldn't end anytime soon.

There really is nowhere to go. Kristie has gallivanted off with Chris Kendall. Anthony and Kalel are probably as in on Ian's plan as he was. I had no other friends.

The only place I want to go is back in time.

I stood up wobbily, staggering a little as I'd been sat down in the same curled up position for so long. I stumbled to the light switch, and found myself in the janitor's closet, with the fan blaring; the source of all the coldness. The only place to go was out. I couldn't stay here forever.

I hastily threw open the door, not knowing what I would do once I left, just wanting to escape. I was exposed to blaring bright lights: I was in the upstairs lounge. Keeping my head down, I headed to the lift and pressed the button quickly, so that I could at least go down a floor and get out of this building and find somewhere to think about things, even though I knew I wouldn't get any further on what to do.

When the lift eventually arrived, I rushed in, head down, hoping to trick those inside the lift that I didn't exist. But there was only one other person inside.

'Misty?'

'Phil?' I asked, looking up to check. It was. His face emulated genuine concern as he placed a pale hand on my shoulder.

'Are you alright?'

'Erm, yeah,' I sniffed, knowing that he would see straight through my obvious lie. 'Just...hayfever.'

'No it's not.' Phil stared straight into my eyes- and straight through my lies too, as I expected. 'Dude, what's wrong?'

I sighed shakily and furiously wiped the tears off my cheeks, bringing thick smudges of black eyeliner with it. 'It's hard to explain.'

'Come to our room for a while, I'm going up anyway. You can vent, or we can just watch TV,' Phil offered.

'It's-' I tried to persist.

'Seriously,' Phil insisted. 'I can't leave you like this. Where's Ian?'

As much as I tried to resist it, I broke down again, thinking of Ian, all the lies. Phil appeared to understand, and wrapped his arm around my side.

'Please don't cry. Look, the least I can do is make you a cup of tea.'

I eventually gave in and agreed, and Phil led us to his and Dan's room a couple of floors up, unlocked the door with the card and let me in. I thanked him gratefully and entered awkwardly. This was weird: I was currently  socialising with one of my idols, but at the same time I was crying. One of the best and worst things was currently happening, but simultaneously. It was almost dreamlike; a nightmare which had subsided slightly, but still remained, consuming and frightening me.