[50]
Sydney
I've never been to a fashion show.
It seems everyone who is seated here, either is some type of millionaire, works in the fashion industry, is a designer, or simply, rich.
The women that sat around me are gazing at the models as they walked down the runway as if the dresses they are seeing are the most extraordinary things they've ever laid their eyes on.
The models walk effortlessly, displaying many dresses, their long legs shining as the spotlight solely shines down on them.
I feel Tyler place his hand on mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"I hope you aren't bored," he whispers to me with a grin, staring at the models.
"Not at all," I reply back, my eyes returning to the models.
I turn back, looking at the people in the audience, and my eyes land on Daniel and his parents.
I frown, turning back fully to him.
I'm guessing his mom dragged him along because I know for a fact this isn't his type of thing.
He spots me, and I whip around immediately, half wishing he didn't see me.
"I'm going to find my mom, I need to speak with her about something," Tyler tells me, and when I send a nod in reply, he gets up from his seat and walks away.
I look back, noticing Daniel's seat is empty. I don't know why I do it, but I get up and wander back to the dance floor.
A waiter walks past me with a tray of chocolate mousse, and I pick one up as he rushes past.
I use the incredibly tiny spoon in the little shot-like glass, scooping up some mousse. If I was alone, I would've used my tongue.
Oh my fucking god.
This is the best mousse I've ever tasted.
Three more scoops and the mousse glass was empty, and I set it down on the table before hearing shouting from the far end of the dance floor.
"Are you fucking serious?" I hear a familiar voice scream from inside the crowd.
Oh no.
Daniel.
I shove past people to get the front just in time to see Daniel shoving against another guys chest, before pushing past people in the crowd and running off. I don't know why, but I go after him, knowing what he'd do when he gets angry.
I had to pick up my dress a little bit to be able to pick up my pace. Daniel sprints out the doors that lead to the garden roof upstairs, and my unfit ass had to take a break in the middle of the staircase before continuing after him.
"Daniel?" I call out.
Daniel is standing on the other end, next to the flower pots, staring up into the sky.
"Go away," he murmurs.
"I'm sorry, what? You're the one who started a fight-"
I swallow my words as soon Daniel turns his head to me and I see his tear-stained face. Suddenly when I see the broken look on his face, I felt bad. I felt bad for snapping at him without even knowing what happened. All my years of knowing him, and witnessing a ton of his violent outbreaks and fights, I've never seen him cry.
I uncurl my fingers out of the fist's they formed, taking slow steps toward him.
"Daniel, what's wrong?" I ask softly.
"Nothing," he answers quickly, violently wiping away his tears with his fists.
"You're crying, Daniel. You can talk to me," I step closer to him.
"I'm never good enough, Sydney," he suddenly blurts out, looking at me.
"I fuck up everything good I have in my life. I disappointed my parents. I've hurt everyone close to me. I'm a fuck up, Sydney! Maybe if I could just disappear out of everyone's life, I wouldn't create such a ruckus in everyone's life. I'm a disappointment in everyone's life. I'm pretty sure you'd know that," he says, giving me a sad smile, another tear rolling down his cheek.
Seeing Daniel in this state made something inside of me crack. "I should just kill myself, or leave to another place. I-"
"Shh," I whisper soothingly, placing my index finger on his lips.
"I'm a fuck up, Sydney," he whispers again.
I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders, making him freeze before he relaxes and rests his head onto my shoulder. I feel his body shake, his shoulders shaking slightly as he lets go of his tears on my shoulders. It takes a while for him to finally calm down and stop crying, lifting his head up.
Hesitantly, I reach up, wiping away his tears with the pads of my thumbs. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, before opening them again, his blue irises blazing into mine, but I find myself imagining being in Tyler's arms right now.
Caught up in my thoughts of Tyler, I don't notice Daniel leaning in until his lips are smashed against mine. I plant my hands on his chest, shoving him off of me, and he finally realises what he did.
"Daniel, what the actual fuck?!" I shriek, taking slow steps back.
"Sydney, I'm so sorry I got carried away-"
"Damn right you did! Oh my god, here I'm trying to comfort you but you take advantage of the situation," at this rate, I'm pacing up and down, pulling at my hair.
I need to leave.
"Sydney, wait!" Daniel calls out, grabbing my wrists, stopping me before I ran down the steps.
"Let me go," I yank my arm out of his grasp, before turning on my heel and running down the stairs, whilst praying I won't embarrass myself and face plant on the floor.
Once I reach the seating area, I look around everywhere but failing to find Tyler.
I plop down on the bench next to the table, holding my head in my hands, feeling my pounding head get worse. I want to leave.
I spot a mass of blonde hair and only recognise it to be Chase.
"Chase?"
He whips around, growing curious as he stares at me, "What's wrong, Sydney?"
"Have you seen Tyler?" I look up at Chase and he swallows before looking around uncomfortably.
"Uhm...I...No, I haven't seen him."
I narrow my eyes at him and the way he's acting so weird.
"Chase, where is Tyler?" I ask slowly.
"I don't know," he looks around, looking at everything but my face.
When I glare at him, he sighs, "Fine. He left with a girl."
"Which girl?" I frown, my heart dropping.
He gives me a sad look.
"Meredith. He left with Meredith."
~ ~ ~
Meredith.
He left with Meredith.
My head is spinning by the time I get to the penthouse. I pay the cab driver, before snatching my bag and speed walking into the building. The lobby is quiet, and my heels clanking against the marble floor is enough to make my presence known by the night shift receptionist.
"Ms Anderson," she greets, to which I completely ignore, hitting the elevator buttons repeatedly until the doors slide open.
Deep inside, I know exactly what I'm going to see as soon as I walk into the penthouse. I take in a deep breath when the elevator doors open, and it takes me a moment, before finally stepping out and taking slow steps towards the main door. Each step is suffocating, and I pray that I'll find Tyler all alone in the penthouse.
Maybe he just dropped her off.
I shake my head.
I'm pathetic.
Let's be real, I'm never that lucky.
I rummage through my bag, before finally finding the key. I turn my wrist to the side, clicking open the door and stepping in slowly.
Giggles are the first thing I hear when I step into the penthouse. My heart sinks.
A feminine giggle.
Meredith's giggles.
From our bedroom.
She squeals, and her voice bounces off the walls, tearing the little bit of hope I had inside of me.
The hope that maybe, just maybe, the past few weeks we shared together was enough for him. But clearly, nothing's ever enough.
My vision blurry from the tears that escaped with no notice, I turn back leaving the penthouse. I pull out my phone, my shaky fingers speed dialling Samantha's number.
"Hey, Syd, what's up?"
"Sam..." I take in a shaky breath, my voice breaking when I try to talk and I hear Samantha's sad voice sigh on the other end.
"It's okay, Sydney, baby. Do you wanna come over? I'll pick you up."
"Please," I whisper between a sob, swallowing the bile that rose up to my throat, feeling the champagne I downed earlier trying to escape. I hang up, exiting the lobby doors, covering my arms as the cold breeze brushes against me.
Samantha's red mini cooper slowly comes to a stop in front of me ten minutes later. I reach forward, pulling open the door and sliding into the passenger seat.
The ride to her apartment is silent. No words are exchanged between us because she knows. She knows that I don't want to talk about it. She does seem curious as to what happened, but she can tell it's the last thing I want to discuss. She doesn't ask me what happened. She doesn't attack me with never-ending questions. And if she was in my position, I would do the same.
That's what makes us best friends.
~ ~ ~
"I just don't understand, you know," Samantha raises her shoulders in confusion, placing a mug under the coffee machine.
"I wish I could disagree," I mutter, sighing lowly under my breath, looking down at the brown coffee in my hands.
Sam warned me. What did I do? I did everything she said I shouldn't do.
Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.
"Sydney, he's an idiot. And trust me, he'll realise that sooner or later. Tyler is a dickhead. As much as this is going to sound cheesy but; often times we break the things we love, and the things we love break us. I know how guys are, trust me, I've had my fair share. I'll say this a million times over and over, guys think with their dicks and not their brains. And you know what, I hate to say this, but maybe this is just for the best."
I take in a sharp breath, licking my lips and sipping the remainder of my coffee before placing the mug on the little coffee table in front of me. I think about what she said for a moment, and as much as this sounds cliché, she was right. Maybe this is just for the best. Maybe we were never meant to be happy together in the first place. We should have never done that stupid deal back in senior year. Maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't be sitting in this position. I close my eyes.
"So beautiful," he murmurs against my swollen lips. And then he was kissing me again. The deep kind of kisses that left little room for thought. There is only feeling and wanting. That's all. I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him closer, telling him what I want with my soft moans.
Our kisses slow, becoming tender and infinitely more. It's like we were getting to know each other on an intimate level. I was breathless and dazed, unprepared for all of this, but my body ached for more than just kisses and touching—for more of him. And I know he did, too. My hand wraps around his bicep, closing my eyes in pure bliss when he sucks at the skin just above my neck. His lips left mine for a brief moment, and I open mine, staring in his soul, staring at him. The body of a beast. The eyes of a fucking hurricane. The world—the universe—ceased to exist.
I snap them open.
Fuck this.
Everything I do.
He haunts me.
I can't close my eyes and not see him.
Feel him.
Want him.
Miss him.