Ripped Open (Luke Hemmings)

Why

Angela's P.O.V

I'm broken. Every peace of me shattered. The little bit of light in my life is gone, and i know for a fact its never coming back. Luke was my everything. He was the light inside me... How come he broke it off? Was the sex bad? Did i say something wrong? I'm just so fucking worthless! I mess up at everything! And i mean everything. I mess up in my career, love, sex, boys, fucking everything! 

I'm sitting in the same chair looking out the window as the rain drops slowly, pattering on my window. I've been calling in sick for the past few days, not really up for work. I'm not stable any more. Not been eating, drinking anything. I'm just broken, mentally, and physically. I feel nothing anymore. If i cut, cant feel it. Cry, cant feel it. Starve, cant feel it. I'm just gone. And I'm not coming back this time. That's when my phone buzzed for the millionth time today, usually from the same person. Peter. And that's who it was from. Peter. Another stupid text from him.

You need to come in tomorrow. We have three weeks to finish this damn movie -Peter

I totally forgot about the movie. God i fuck up! I decided to text him back. I should go in tomorrow. I do have a career that i hate, but i still need to do it. That's the only thing i have left. My career.

yeah, i'm feeling a bit better. see u tomorrow at ten -Angela

I ignored anything else he said to me. I don't feel like explaining why I'm sick. Well I'm not even sick... Not fever wise, but broken heart wise.  I scroll threw my contacts and come up with Luke's. I click on it, and see a picture of his hole band... It use to be me and him. He already changed it after a few days? What a jerk. My thumb hovered over the call button. I so badly wanted to hear his voice. He never called or had text me once sense the break up... He better feel guilty in some ways. Luke hurt me so fucking bad. So bad i don't want to get up from this chair. 

The worst part is i have no friends so i cant tell anyone anything. Only my therapist. I never seen her sense a while. Probably the fact i never called her back these few days. I groaned loudly and biffed my phone at my bed. I missed and it fell to the floor, the battery flying out of the back. I didn't care about that. I ignore all my calls anyways, so who cares?

Then i heard someone knocking down stairs. Who the fuck is that? I slowly stood up and opened my bedroom door. My cool hallway hits my bare arms, and i shiver slightly. I walked down the stairs and meet the door. I peek out and see a girl. I squint my eyes and see, Samantha. (Okay i forget the name of her stylist, so it's now switched to Samantha if your confused) My stylist? What is she doing here?

I unlocked the door and opened it up. Her eyes widened when she seen me and stepped into my house, closing up her umbrella. "Hey. Are you feeling better?" asked Samantha and i slowly nodded. "I'm going to work tomorrow." i said and she nodded. She looked around my mansion then her eyes met mine again. "How about some tea then?" i asked and Samantha nodded smiling.

We walked into the kitchen and i grabbed two tea mugs. I start up the kettle and wait till it's done. "Do you have the flue or something? You don't look to sick." said Samantha. I sighed and ran a hand threw my frizzy hair. "I'm not really sick. It's honestly a long story." i said and Samantha smiled once again. "I got time, loads of it." said Samantha and i smiled weakly. 

I poured up two mugs of tea, and we walked into the living room, taking a seat on the couch. I sipped my tea slowly, and Samantha did the same. I like her in my company, so the demons inside me doesn't eat me alive. "Okay, can i get a hole story now?" asked Samantha confidence in her voice. "You promise not to tell?" i asked and Samantha nodded. "Promise." she said and i didn't believe her but i'll tell her anyways.