Envy

Twenty Five.

Twenty five.

I wave at Violet, who's straightening a customer's hair, and Ivy, who's cutting a customer's hair. Ivy nearly hit the person in the eye as she waves at me, and I chuckle, leaving the shop with a shake of my head and a smile.

I walk to the bus stop, where I wait for the nice gentleman, who helped me 3 weeks ago. He's the same driver every time I'm in the bus.

I look at my phone and bite my lip, its 10 pm. Violet has kept me late today, as we had a horde of customers, and I'm the only waitress. I think I witnessed Louis leaving from the backdoor as usual. I don't know where he disappears to from the backdoor, but I stopped going there in my lunch break, for it meant I had to see Zayn, who I very successfully avoided for the past two weeks.

I enter the bus, as it stops in front of me, and smile at Patrick, the bus driver.

"How are you today?" he asks, wearing a warm smile.

"I'm good, hope you're well"

"Thank you" he states and I go at the back, where I settle in the same seat as always.

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"What the fuck?" I mumble, looking at the cover of the magazine I just bought, not even taking my change.

My heart races, as I feel it almost tear my chest open and fall on the ground. It's too soon! I stop the tears swelling at the corner of my eyes and gulp, stopping in my tracks; and read the article.

Attention tiny hopeful teenagers, Niall Horan is off the grid, for real now. It's not one of his random hook-ups, and definitely not a 'friend', but an actual relationship.

Niall Horan has admitted to being in an intimate relationship with the beautiful Natasha Patrick, as he's seen lip locking with her backstage at the AMAs.

Gosh, don't they make the most adorable couple?

Also, the so-called-friend of Niall's has disappeared, as we have had no track of her. Must be embarrassed to have been rejected so solely by the handsome solo singer.

Tell us what you think about the new famous hot couple over Twitter and Facebook.

Niall Horan, you bloody bastard.

I can't do this anymore, I can't. This is terrible, and heartbreaking. It's only been a month, how dare he move on so easily, while I still cry myself to sleep every night, while I still go mental and beg for death to consume me.

I can't do this. I drop the magazine on the floor and run, run as fast as I can. I hold my bag to my chest and stand in front of the familiar gun shop. Yes, this is where I want to be, this is where I'm supposed to be.

Taking my own life is the only thing that I can think of. Screw what Harry thinks, I'm going to make it bloody and I'm going to make it hurt.

"You" I enter the shop and place my bag on the table, "I- I want a gun"

"What type of gun? the bearded man asks, and I can't help but wonder, does he remember me? Does he see me while I creepily walk here every night barefoot, hoping I have guts to get one of the guns and kill myself?

I look at the guns and point at one, the revolver.

"That one"

He takes it out and shows it to me, "good choice" he mumbles, "You have a permit?"

What the fuck is a permit?

"What permit?"

"It's a rule, you need to have a permit to buy a gun"

"But I don't have a permit"

"Then stop wasting my time kid" he puts the gun back in its place, "and don't come back here again"

I stare at him stunned, heat rushing to my cheeks from embarrassment, humiliation, anger.

"Fuck you" I flip him the middle finger and leave. An alleyway resides behind the shop, where I sit on the cold floor and cry. I let out all my emotions, welcoming the tears, the pain, the cold. I can't take this anymore, I want to die. I want to leave this hell hole. Good lord, take my life away and give it to someone who deserves it!

"You finally had the guts to do it huh?" I hear a familiar accent speak. I look up and see the same man I have been avoiding, running away from, because I'm angry at him, and embarrassed.

"Are you following me?" I ask, annoyed, wiping the tears off my face.

"Yes" he admits casually.

"Why?"

"I see you, you know? At 4 am, you run here, barefoot. I didn't give it a thought before, but when it became consistent, I wanted to know where you go. And here you are, having the guts to finally do it" he explains, his auburn eyes shine in the dim light.

"Fuck off Zayn" I grunt holding my screaming head, "I'm not in the mood to deal with you"

He sits on the floor beside me and offers me a cigarette.

"I don't fucking smoke"

"You should"

I look at him confused, is he here to mock me? Mock my failure?

"Why are you here?"

He takes a drag and blows out the smoke in the most attractive way, and smirks, knowing I'm staring at him.

"Tell you what Marisol, I can get you a gun, but with one condition only" he rubs his nose, "you let me help you"

I stare at him puzzled, "Help me?"

"Yeah, help you!"

"In what way?" is Zayn high, are these even cigarettes? How does weed smell like anyway?

"I'll tell you a story okay?" he speaks, not looking at me, crossing his legs in front of him. Is he not feeling cold at all?, "there came a time where I fucked up badly. So bad, and I was ready to leave this universe okay? I tried drinking myself to death, but that wasn't working out. So I just came to this shop, right there, and met Lionel" he chuckles, "you freak him out by the way" he takes another drag and blows, "anyway, so I get the gun you know? And I'm ready to fucking do it, so ready to shoot myself, but some man comes to me, and takes it away from me as soon as I leave the shop. I was ready to fight him, even kill him with my gun, but that man offered to help me. He was one of nicest people I have ever met, and until now I believe he actually gave a shit about me, where no one did. And since then, I have never wanted off. I met Ivy, and God did my life even become better" he smiles adoringly at the mention of her name, rolling his tongue on his lips, then finally looks at me, removing his stare from the dirty pavement "I want to do what that man did to me. So I'm going to help you"

I sit there speechless at what he has told me, this man, who seemed like he doesn't give a damn about anyone - except Ivy - wants to help me? Why?

"But I hit you"

"Yeah? So? I threw you forwards the roof door, we're pretty even"

"And you'll get me the gun?"

"Yes!" he says confidently, "meet me tomorrow at Maxwell's" he gets up and brushes his pants, "now go home Marisol. This isn't worth it" he smiles at me and walks away, leaving me so confused, and glad he had found me.

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