Misunderstood

1

                   Reagan's pov

I wish I was different. Nobody sees me, for me. I ignore people. I'm a bitch. I'm a sociopath. I don't have feelings. Well, at least all those things are what people say about me. But he truth is, I'm actually really sensitive. Behind the facade, I've been hurt so much to the point where I can't trust anyone, and I can't open up anymore.

I needed to take my mind of this before I did something I'd regret. Taking my headphone out my Chanel bag, I went for a walk across the river. I needed to get away from everyone. It was a nice morning, the sun was shining and the birds were tweeting. It was the only chance I had to have some peace and quiet. I knew it was too good to be true, though, as I got onto the bridge, this guy-clearly oblivious to the fact I was right in front of him-bumped into me.
"What the fuck, move" he yelled.
He was obviously clueless he bumped into me.

There was something, different about him, I could've sworn I've seen him somewhere, but I just couldn't put my finger on it.
"Quit staring" He said reluctantly, still looking around at anything but me.
He put his earphones in and tried to walk away.
"Hold on.. please?" I cried
Why the fuck would I say that. I sound so desperate.
"I know you from s-somewhere." I exclaimed.
"No you don't" he screamed marching off.
"What's his problem?" I wondered. But it's none of my business, I guess.