Preacher Man // ross lynch + driver era

78

I get up, grabbing a pair of leggings and a clean shirt. I throw my hair into a messy bun and slide my feet into some Adidas. I grab my keys and head out.

"I'll see you later," I say to Liv who is standing in the kitchen.

She smiles and hands me a to-go mug. "I usually make this tea when I don't feel the best. Whether it's because of illness or sadness, it brings me comfort. I hope it helps even the slightest," she says.

I smile and take it from her hand. "Thank you. I love you," I say, reaching over to hug her.

I walk into work with the mug in hand. I clock in then walk towards the front, really not wanting to be here at all.

I'm on a closing shift so it shouldn't be too bad.

"You look like... shit. Are you feeling okay?" Max asks. I feel like no matter how ha someone may look, you just shouldn't... say it.

I glare over at him, placing the mug next to the register. "Ross broke up with me," I say shortly then walk toward the closet to grab my cart.

He's quick on my heels. "What? Are you serious?" I nod and grab the cart, dragging it behind me. "Are you okay? I'm sorry."

"I look like shit, don't I?" I ask rhetorically.

Max's face turns into a frown. "I'm so sorry, Hayley."

"You didn't see? There's a photo going around of him kissing another girl," I say, my hand now gripping onto a book.

Okay, I know there's much more to the story than just that. But I can't tell anyone the truth. And at the end of the day, he kissed another girl. He's with another girl.

He reaches out, his hand resting over mine. "No, I didn't. You don't deserve that."

I shrug. "I didn't, but it happened. Again," I slip my hand out from under his and place a book into the right place.

I walk back over to see Max on his phone and I gasp when I see the photo. I told him about it so I'm not surprised he went to look. But I didn't want to see it.

Ross's hands are around her waist and I feel like vomiting and passing out at the same time. I tear my eyes away from the photo and Max looks like he's seen a ghost within me. I bolt to the back of the store, heading straight to the employee lounge.

I see the smallest corner and I sit in it, placing my hands onto the floor and counting back in my head. I feel the walls closing in on me.

This is only day one.

Day two was just as hard. I sat in class with my hands shaking, my handwriting looking like a drunk mess.

Day three I had nothing to do besides homework. With a spare notebook beside me, I decide to express myself in the most honest, raw ways. (All italicized paragraphs besides the texts are journal entries).

Everything hurts. I feel nauseous all the time. I lost all of my appetite and desire to speak to anyone. I haven't turned my phone on since he left my room three days ago.

I haven't felt like this since Dave.

I didn't think I'd feel like this so soon. I wish there was a button I could turn off. As if I could turn off my humanity switch like Damon Salvatore.