alternate feelings || bws

chapter eight || "why do you hate me?"

My fingers gracefully danced across the keys on the piano, having stayed back just so I could have the building to myself to play the most beautiful instrument. My dad was asleep, he was having a bad day today and I didn't want to disturb him; he needed rest.

Today had been an okay day, I had a late start and only three lessons so I couldn't really complain. I had mostly kept to myself today, not talking to the group of people I'm normally with or not talking with the people that come up to me. I was avoiding everyone like the plague, just wanting to be alone.

Brad and I hadn't spoken since that little incident in the car, it was an argument but it wasn't like our others. It wasn't over something petty and we didn't go as crazy as we usually do, our most recent two he had been pushed in a pond or punched. It was over us, we had an argument about how we stereotype each other and I think that's the most real we have been.

I want to ask him about it, why he was so upset over me thinking he had it perfect and I want him to talk to me so I can get to know him better. I want to tell him that I understand, that I don't have the perfect life he thought I had either. Doing all that would have been a lot easier if we were friends, which we are far from.

I was friends with a lot of people, only disliking people if I had a reason to however, as soon as I saw him I had hated him and I don't know why. I try to find why I hate him and then I try to like him but something always happens making a constant cycle. I hate him, I talk to him, I like him, we argue and then I hate him again. I didn't want to have this relationship with him but I guess it was meant to be.

The music fills the room and my ears, the song being the one me and my dad had written. I wanted to perfect it and each time I played it, it got closer and closer to flawless.

I was so engrossed with the music I didn't even realise that someone had came in and that someone being the person who had moved into my mind (never really leaving) until they began to clap.

I jumped slightly, my head snapping upwards and my eyes shooting into his own brown ones that really were beautiful; would I ever tell him that? Of course not, I don't want to boost his ego, it was already as tall as him.

He doesn't say anything, he just walks towards me and sits next to me on the piano stool and begins playing a familiar soft tune. I was surprised that he knew how to play and I was dumbfounded at how good he was. My eyes flickered between his face and his ring clad fingers.

I also begin playing, on the deeper pitch end and together we make the perfect music. In this moment we were nothing, we weren't enemies nor were we friends; we were just people who shared the same love for music.

His playing abruptly stops making mine stop seconds after, he slams the cover down making me jump and rests his head in his hands which were leant against it, tugging at his hair.

I don't say anything, I just sit in silence and play with the ends of my curly, blonde hair. Glasses covered my eyes which were normally swapped for contact lenses or just nothing at all. My hair was in a pony tail and my face was free of makeup, I hadn't tried whatsoever and I was scared he was going to point it out.

"Why do you hate me?" He asks, keeping his head down and I found myself lost for words.

"Why do you make me hate you?" I question, answering a question with another question was just a way of avoiding one and the reason I didn't want to answer it was because I didn't know.

"Because its a way of dealing." He mutters and my eyebrows furrow, a way of dealing with what? "You're losing weight, Lauren."

There it is, the dreaded statement of someone knowing I was becoming thinner and thinner by the day. There was no thin enough, I would keep going and going until I end up in a hospital bed. I know that but I can't stop, there is no stopping.

"I need to go." I quickly say, standing up from the seat and grabbing my bag from next to my feet.

"Stop running away from me!" He exclaims, finally lifting his head up to look at me reaching out and grabbing my hand and I hate to say this but in this moment I felt something just from his touch and it wasn't my skin crawl. "You always run or you find a way to shout at me, you want to hate me too just like I want to hate you."

"I don't want to hate you Brad, you make me hate you. You do all this shit, all this pointless stuff and you say all these hurtful things that I don't need to make myself hate you!" I shout, maybe he was right. I always find a way to shout at him.

"I don't mean to hurt you." He tells me, looking deep into my eyes.

"But you do, you always do." I shakily say. "I don't know how you got Olivia to like you, how you got her to always defend you." I think back to the numerous conversations we had, how I always slagged him off and she was there to be his knight in shining armour each and every time.

"She was my friend."

"So why can't you be my friend too?" I yell, becoming sick and tired of the answers he was giving me.

So many people liked him, so many people loved him yet he made me hate him when he could really just show me who he truly was. Why would anyone make some hate them purposefully?

"I just can't okay."

I don't say anything, I just look at him waiting for him to answer properly but when he doesn't say anything, he just stares at me I walk away from him and the pathetic answers.

"Lauren, please don't go." He calls after me.

"Then give me a reason to stay." I give him one more chance but he still doesn't utter a word so I leave with my heart pounding and a weight on my shoulder and tears threatening to leave my eyes.

I don't hate him; I can't hate him. Who was I kidding?