apartment 23 // mitchel cave

2

angeline's p.o.v.

"what do you mean you don't know him? you were practically eye fucking him as he galloped around the stage!" james yelled as he sped down the road. i grasped the handle on the door tightly, my knuckles turning a ghostly shade of white. my heart was pounding in my chest.

"i'm telling you, i don't know him." i lied.

"don't even fuck around with me angeline. he confessed his undying love for you on that fucking stage. why are you keeping this from me?" he seethed, his jaw clenched. i didn't even know why he was so angry about this.

"james, slow down!" i yelled back, avoiding his attempt to get me to spill the truth.

suddenly, he slammed the breaks on the car and stopped in the middle of the road.

"angeline, you're going to tell me what happened between you two right now."

"he's my ex, okay? is that what you wanted to hear?" i snapped back, turning towards him in my seat.

"and we would probably still be together if it wasn't for you forcing your drugs on me." i continued.

that's when i felt it: the palm of his hand came in contact with my face, leaving a stinging sensation across my cheek. i could taste blood in my mouth.

"if i ruined your oh-so-perfect relationship with him, get the fuck out of my car. get the fuck away from me. go suck his dick or something." he replied angrily.

i stared at him in awe. he has the nerve to slap my across the face and then kick me out of his car in the middle of the road?

i unbuckled my seatbelt and stepped out of the car, making sure to flip him off as he drove off down the road. a hot stream of tears burned down the side of my face against the stinging feeling he had left. the wind blowed slothful against my body causing goosebumps to rise up on my bare arms. i didn't know how i was going to get home let alone where exactly i was.

and that's when i had an idea...

_______________________________

mitchel's p.o.v.

i still couldn't believe that she was there. i hadn't seen her in six very long months and all of the sudden she was just there, right in front of me, watching me perform. did she even know i was going to be there? or did that prick who dragged her off force her there? i wondered who he was. is that who she replaced me with? weak replacement, i must say. i would never grab my girlfriend like that.

tonight was the last show of the tour, so the others and i just wanted to get home and catch up on some greatly needed rest. i lay stretched out on the sofa, watching some random show christian had turned on our flat screen. i couldn't get her off of my mind. the others vaguely knew something was going on but i refused to tell them why i was so distant. they had become used to this though. i would try to fill the void angeline left with drugs and alcohol. i began to spend a lot more time by myself in my bunk, just thinking about her as i got completely shit-faced and high off my ass. it was an unrelenting cycle i managed to get stuck in.

clinton sat diagonal from me in his armchair, smoking a cigarette. i heard his phone begin to vibrate rapidly next to him, casually looking up to see if he was going to answer.

"who is it?" i asked, watching him as his face seemed to flush. he picked up his phone and answered it, moving from the armchair to the kitchen. i could still faintly make it what he was saying, despite his efforts to stay quiet. why was he keeping this a secret from me?

"wait, he left you...? on a random road?... send me your location, i'll be there in a little bit." he mumbled before turning off his phone.

"where are you going?" i asked, sitting up on the sofa.