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Chapter 2 - Wes

An hour beforehand.

The only thing that snaps me out of my crazed Instagram stalk of Alyssa is the familiar screech of Hugo's brakes as he parks outside my apartment. Sighing, I throw my phone aside and collapse backwards on my couch, the cold leather prickling my bare back. Great. Just the person I wanted to see.

I shut my eyes, praying that Hugo would stop trying to cheer me up and leave me alone. Sure, Alyssa's breakup with me was harsh. Sure, she didn't have to end our two year relationship and leave me stranded in the middle of rugby season. But, of course she decided to. 

It's not like I did anything wrong. She just fell out of love with me and fell for some twat lifeguard. Psh. Whatever. I'm doing fine. Totally fine. 

My phone pings, and it's a post notification; another photo of her with one of her friends and aformentioned hunk from the lifeguard. Her silky black hair tumbles down her exposed collarbones, her mouth wide open and eyes crinkled. It's a nice candid photo of her, laughing. 

I see that the guy's arms are around her waist, and my heart breaks a little more. I miss doing that. Wait, no, no I don't. I'm doing fine. Totally fine. 

A rushed knock on my apartment door makes me shoot up. I squint in the dark, looking at the chipped wood as if my eyes can see through it. "Wes! Get up! You better not be on her Instagram again!"

I sigh, groaning dramatically. "I'm not looking, Hugo!"

"Sure you aren't--will you let me in, please?"

"Ugh, fine."

Feeling the leather of my couch unstick from my skin, I trudge towards the door. Deftly weaving my way through dirty laundry and rubbish,  I unlock the latch, swinging the door open. Hugo's face curls, either at the sight of me or the scent of my apartment.

"You could have at least put some pants on."

I shrug. "Eh. Boxers are the best you're gonna get."

Turning around, I crash on the couch and let a very grossed-out Hugo into my apartment. He sees the laundry, the rubbish, the dishes piled up in the sink, and frowns, crossing his arms in front of him. 

"Mate, you're really spiralling."

Snorting, I shrug, eyes shut. "Eh. What do you want?"

I feel a weight sink next to me. Opening my eyes, I see Hugo's settled next to me, concern painting his expression. "Look, mate, this is the last time I'm letting you do this to yourself. You've been ignoring my texts and calls for two weeks now, and only God knows how many training sessions you've missed. Coach and the other boys miss you. You can't let a girl get you down like this!"

I roll over, groaning. "Too late."

He sighs, wrapping a hand over my shoulder, rolling me back to face him. "God, you're dramatic. Look, what you need is a distraction. Firstly, you need to get out of this apartment. It's a pigsty, and it's not doing your mental health any favours. Come on, get up, get dressed. I'm not leaving without you."

Picking up a pillow from the couch, I toss it at him, narrowly skimming his combed-back hair. "God, you're insufferable. Just let me die, please?"

His face scrunches up in disgust. "No, I'm not gonna let that happen! Come on, up, up, up!"

He hoists me up by the armpits, a choice he regrets almost immediately, and shoves me toward my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I hear him mumble about finding a clean sink and a washing basket as I open my walk-in wardrobe. Black jeans and a white button-up should be fine.