Geoff stormed past the lamp posts covered in green tinsel. The chilly air felt like hundreds of tiny needles hitting his face. The ground was sprinkled with snow, making it hard for his shoes to grip the sidewalk. Children in winter hats passed by with their parents, probably doing some last-minute Holiday shopping. Geoff had done his shopping at the beginning of December, but now he didn't even want to celebrate Christmas.
He turned a corner and opened the door to a building labeled Lucky Tats. "We're closing in five minutes," the man at the front desk muttered while flipping through a body art sketchbook.
"Is Duncan working today?" Geoff asked.
The man sighed, closing the book. "Sir, I told you we close in five—"
Geoff felt an arm envelop his shoulder. "David, 'ts ok," a deep voice cut him off. "I was running behind on my closing work anyway."
David shook his head. "Duncan, this is the third time this week. I hope the boss doesn't find out about you slacking." He stood up and grabbed his olive-colored jacket. "By the way, we're switching shifts tomorrow. You're working 'til 4:00."
Duncan scoffed. "Dude, stop messing with me."
"I'm not. I have to take my daughter to her dentist appointment in the afternoon." David opened the door halfway, letting the cold air rush in. Oh, and make sure you turn off the bathroom lights this time." He shut the door and headed to his car.
Duncan rolled his eyes. "I never get to pick my damn schedule because I'm the youngest here. So much for sleeping in tomorrow."
"Aw, dude, that sucks," Geoff spat sarcastically. "I wish I had that problem."
Duncan raised his unibrow. "What's up with you?"
"Can we talk in your office?"
"Sure, but don't call it an office," Duncan grimaced. "That makes me feel like my job is boring." He led Geoff to the room around a corner. The door had a giant skull plastered in the middle, and the windows showcased tiny guitar and rock n roll stickers. "I haven't seen you in ages, man," Duncan began. "It's been months." He opened his mini refrigerator and grabbed a coke. "Want one?" He offered.
"No thanks," Geoff murmured, hanging his head.
Duncan popped open his can and sat on the windowsill after he pushed the tiny bobblehead displays out of the way. "What's going on? Tell me everything."
Geoff plopped down on Duncan's black client chair. "I don't know where to start. Should I start seven years ago?"
"You remember that far back?"
"Duncan, come on, man. I'm serious. Think about how old we were."
"Pfft. Sixteen? Yeah, so what?" Duncan said. "We've all done stupid shit back then. Are you coming here to confess something? Don't get me wrong; I'm the best guy to confess to because I'm not a snitch—"
"Bridgette and I broke up," Geoff blurted out.
The room went silent. Duncan's jaw dropped slightly. "Are you joking?"
"No, I'm not," Geoff groaned. "We broke up for good. It's been over a week, and I'm ready to move on. I have to keep going. Even if I wasted seven years of my life—" his sobs interrupted him.
Duncan got off the windowsill. He patted Geoff on the back. "What happened? What did she do?"
Geoff rested his chin in his hands. "She likes this other guy. His name is Liam," he scrunched up his face. "He loves to surf just like her. Apparently, they met a few months ago in July, but she didn't tell me until a couple of weeks ago."
Duncan cringed. "Dude, she went five months without telling you? That's not a good sign."
"Thanks for pointing out the obvious. You would know, wouldn't you?" Geoff dug at him.
"Whoa," Duncan's eyes widened. "Where did that come from?"
"You know. You're the expert on all things cheating."
Duncan's face fell flat. "That was one time six years ago."
"Sorry!" Geoff said. "I can't help it! It's in the news since you still have fans running here to get a tattoo from you. And now you got all these teenagers tryna cancel you."
"I know, buddy, I know. I wish it weren't all over the place after all these years," said Duncan. "But the new generation started watching the show."
"Great," Geoff huffed, "Bridge and I were known for making out all the time. Now, our breakup's gonna be all over the news, and people will share their stupid opinions!"
"Hey," Duncan began, "just block it out. The worst you'll get out of this isn't nearly as bad as what I got. You didn't do anything wrong."
"Don't you see? It doesn't matter. People always try to find something wrong."
"Then fuck all of them. Who gives a damn about their opinions? The moment I stopped reading stupid comments on the Internet, everything got nice and quiet. Most people don't have the guts to say that shit to your face. And the ones who do? Just ignore 'em. They don't have a life."
Geoff started slowly nodding. "You're right, man. You're totally right."
"I always am. Most of the time." Duncan got out his broom.
Geoff ran his hands through his hair. "I wonder if she was cheating on me this entire time? How did I not notice?!"
"I wouldn't dwell on it." Duncan started sweeping. "Either way, she likes someone else. She's not worth your time anymore."
"I know that, but I can't help but think about her," Geoff frowned. "We spent seven years together. That's almost a whole decade. We had so many plans for the Holiday! We were gonna go skiing out by her grandparents' cabin. Now she's probably going to take Liam."
"Fuck Liam!"
"Ew, I don't swing that way, dude."
Duncan stopped sweeping and facepalmed. He laid his broom against the wall. "Dude, I don't mean it in that way. Forget him. That's what I meant. Come on."
"Oh!" Geoff gasped. "Oh yeah, duh. Sorry, my brain's fried from all this breakup drama."
"You've come to the right guy," Duncan told him. "Are you sure you don't want a pop? Makes me feel better when I'm down."
"Ah, what the heck? Give me one," Geoff said. Duncan grinned, walking to his fridge and handing him a cold can of coke.
"Let's change the subject," said Duncan. "Where's DJ these days?"
"Deej? I don't know. Haven't seen him since he got into culinary school last year. I'd say he traveled, but probably not since he loves his mom so much."
Duncan snickered. "Yeah, probably not. I would follow him on social media, but I haven't followed anyone online since my ma bailed me out of jail four years ago. My comments are turned off too."
"I follow him, but he doesn't post much," Geoff shrugged.
"I'm surprised. He should be proud of his work. I still remember those sandwiches he made us back on the show. Ah, the glory days."
"Not so much anymore."
Duncan pursed his lips. He had never been in a relationship for nearly as long as Geoff had. His longest relationship had been with Courtney, which was a year. Ever since then, he has had trouble navigating any romantic relationship. It took him years to get over Courtney because he'd been so unhealthily attached. Courtney would change on a dime. She kept him on his toes by lashing out, then apologizing over and over again. He wanted to stay with her, but he couldn't stay on that emotional rollercoaster any longer. Gwen was his scapegoat, and he hadn't realized it until after Gwen called it quits. When it dawned on Duncan that he still liked Courtney, he felt angry and annoyed. He had reluctantly gone to therapy, and that's when everything changed. He could accept that Courtney manipulated him, and he could accept that he did wrong when he cheated. After that, it became easier to move on and find something for himself.
"Well," Geoff said, "I came here to ask if you could fix my tattoo." He pulled up his shirt, revealing Bridgette's name written in cursive on his right hip. "But you're pretty much closed now, so I'll wait 'til tomorrow." He put his shirt down.
"Oh, it's no problem," Duncan replied. "I can finish cleaning after."
"Are you sure, man?"
"Positive. Now just lay on your left side. Do you want me to cross out the name or something?"
"Yeah, I guess," Geoff sniffled. "Or maybe do some kind of cool design over it."
"Hmm," Duncan pondered. "Ah ha," he snapped his fingers. "I have an idea. Want me to surprise you?"
"Sure, whatever. As long as I can't see her name anymore."
"I've gotcha." Duncan got his ink and pen ready. He grabbed a razor and a sanitary wipe. "You're gonna love this."
"Man, I hope so," Geoff exhaled, relaxing.
He started shaving the area Geoff wanted tattooed. "Besides the breakup, what else has been going on?"
"Just work. Nothin' new."
"Are you still working at The Night Owl?" Duncan referred to a popular nightclub near Toronto's beaches.
"Yep. Still lovin' it," Geoff smiled. "Only great paychecks every two weeks. I got promoted to assistant manager if that means anything."
"Oh wow, that's awesome. More money for you," Duncan said. He cleaned Geoff's hip with the sterile wipe.
"Yeah, I hope I get a manager position someday. I know the ins and outs of that club."
"Betcha do, man. Ok, I'm about to start inking you," Duncan warned.
"Alright, I'm ready," Geoff said. Duncan stuck out his tongue as he carefully began marking. Geoff winced. "So, what's up with you?" He asked.
Duncan snorted. "Doing this until I can start my own tattoo business."
"Awesome. Think you'll get a promotion here soon?"
"I hope so. This place is much nicer than the one I worked at for almost three years after I got out of prison. And my manager says I've made progress over the past year."
"I'll be the judge of that, I guess," Geoff chuckled.
"You don't need to be. These crazy fangirls go wild over the smallest tattoos. I could give them a tiny black star, and they freak out," Duncan said.
"Speaking of girls..." Geoff smirked, "are you getting any game?"
"Nah," Duncan laughed. "Not if you're talking about relationships. I'm done with that mess."
"So...anything else?"
"Maybe a couple of one-night stands here and there. Nothing deep," answered Duncan.
"Hey, at least something's happening for you, my man," Geoff grinned. "I think I'm done with relationships too. They're a lotta work for nothing."
"Yeah. Who needs chicks when we got bros? We just need to get in touch with DJ, and the boys are back," Duncan said.
Geoff nodded. "Exactly. Just like old times. We should all get KB tattooed on us."
"KB?" Duncan asked, furrowing his unibrow.
"Yeah, the Killer Bass. The OG team."
"Ah, yeah," Duncan shook his head with a smile. "But only us and DJ. No women or Harold, though."
"Aw, what about Tyler? I kinda miss that dude," said Geoff.
"I don't. He's nothing but a snitch."
"You still hold that against him?"
"Uh, yeah. Made my life a lot worse than it needed to be," Duncan replied.
"But you realize people would've found out about your kiss with Gwen anyway. It was on international tv," Geoff pointed out
"I know. I wasn't...let's talk about something else," Duncan said. "Tyler's a snitch. Let's leave it at that."
"—Alright, man." Geoff went silent for a moment. He knew the deal with Courtney and Gwen was a sensitive subject, but he didn't think it affected Duncan much due to what he saw on the show. "Hey, you almost done with that tat?"
"Yeah. It'll only be a few more minutes."
"Now I'm excited to see what it is."
"You'll love it," Duncan said. "You won't see a trace of her name left."
"Good. I don't need those memories. I don't need her," he told himself, biting his tongue to keep from crying.
"Nope. You don't. There's other fish in the sea."
"That's exactly what Bridgette would've said..." Geoff started crying.
Duncan quickly took his hand off to stop inking. "Geoff! Dude, you can't cry while I'm doing this! It'll mess up your tattoo!"
"Sorry, I can't help it. I still love her. Ahahaha!" He sobbed into his hands.
"Of course, you still love her. You can't get over someone overnight. Geoff, think about how you dealt with your other problems back in the day. Remember when you told everyone to party it off? That's what you need to do! Party until it all goes away."
"But what if partying doesn't cut it this time?" Geoff whined. "What if it just makes things worse?"
"You never know until you try. Are you working tomorrow night?" Asked Duncan.
"Yeah, but I get off at ten, which is fairly early since we're open 'til three in the morning."
"Perfect. I'll come to your work, and we'll party all night after you're off. You're allowed to party at your own job, right?"
"Yeah," Geoff said. "I just can't make the business look bad."
"Don't worry. If anyone does, it'll be me," Duncan teased. "You down?"
"Yeah. I'm down."
"Alright!" Duncan gave him a high-five. "Now, I wanna get out of here, so let's finish this tattoo." Geoff nodded.
Duncan finished in the next ten minutes. "Ok, now look in the mirror. It's pretty cool."
Geoff got up and stepped in front of the long mirror behind the client's chair. "Whoa...dude, this is rad!" Duncan had tattooed a snake coiled around the Bridgette tattoo, making her name look like a branch. "I can't tell that there was ever a name there! You're awesome at this!"
"You're welcome," Duncan smirked.
"What do I owe you?"
"Oh, don't worry. It's all on me."
"Seriously?!" Geoff gaped.
"Yeah. You're my friend. And I'm supposed to be off the clock, anyway," Duncan said.
Geoff gave him a big hug, patting his back. "Thanks, man. It means a lot. I could cry!"
"Please don't," Duncan cowered. "I think that's enough hugs for one day, Geoff."
"Oh, right. Sorry. Forgot you aren't much of a hugger," he laughed sheepishly.
Duncan straightened out his shirt. "It's all good. I know you're excited. But save that physical stuff for Brad."
"Brad?"
"You know, whoever your other party friend is."
"Oh, Brody?" Geoff said.
"Yeah, him."
"Brody moved away six months ago. I miss him like crazy," Geoff frowned.
"Where'd he move to?" Duncan asked, organizing his supplies.
"California. West Coast. Pacific Ocean."
"Damn. Hopefully, you two can visit each other at some point."
"We definitely will. I call him as much as I can," Geoff grabbed his phone from the side table in Duncan's office.
"I'll see you tomorrow night, then?" Duncan said
"Yeah, see ya. Thanks for making me feel better, Duncan."
"Anytime."
*~*~*~*~*
Gwen woke up in the middle of the night. Her body ached as if she had just finished a workout. She sat up in bed, stretching her arms out. She glanced at the shirtless guy lying next to her before carefully lifting her legs and getting out of bed. She hugged herself, shivering from the freezing room temperature. She was only in her bra, so she slid on her dark blue robe.
Gwen trudged down the hallway, rubbing her eyes. She knew she couldn't fall back asleep with the way she was aching, so she grabbed ibuprofen from the shelf above her kitchen sink. She then made herself chocolate milk. This helped her whenever she couldn't fall asleep as a child, contrary to the popular belief parents shared about "no sugar before bedtime."
As Gwen drank her milk, she thought about where she could be now. She definitely wouldn't be in this crummy apartment if her art career had taken off as she anticipated. While in college, her professors always told her that her work was fantastic. In fact, her classmates adored her artwork and said it was the best they'd ever seen. If she did well in school, then why was it so hard to make it in the real world?
Gwen buried her head in her hands. She expected to be much further than this by now, but here she was in this rundown apartment, getting help from her boyfriend, Blake, who barely made enough money himself. She was thankful that she had Sierra helping her sell her paintings online, except she thought they'd sell a lot more, considering the popularity of total drama with their generation and the new generation. Turns out people don't want to pay a fair amount for anything. Who knew?
Gwen never wanted to rely on a man for financial support. She would always remember her dad leaving when her mother was pregnant with her little brother. Her dad had been the primary source of income. There was no way Gwen would end up in the same situation. She didn't trust any man in the loyalty department, so she knew she needed to start working a second job soon.
A loud thump in the hallway startled her. She spun around and saw Blake walking into the kitchen. He stumbled into the wall, not noticing Gwen's presence. "Fuck," he grumbled, rubbing his forehead.
"Babe, were you sleepwalking?" Gwen asked.
"Hm? No. I just got up to see what you were doing out here. Why the fuck are you up so late?" Blake asked with a vexed tone.
"I was sore," Gwen answered.
"Sore? Oh, sore," Blake sniggered. "From last night, huh?"
"I told you it was too rough," Gwen said quietly, avoiding eye contact.
"But you liked it, didn't you?" Blake played with Gwen's hair. "You like it when I'm rough with you." His hand dropped to the back of her neck, making her shiver uneasily.
"—Yeah," she muttered.
"You wanna fix me a late-night snack?"
"Could you do it yourself?" asked Gwen. "I think I'm gonna head back to bed in a minute."
There was a long pause before the toaster was on the floor. "Goddammit! Why can't you do anything for me?!" Blake roared. "I work all day for five days a week, and what the fuck do you do?! Oh, that's right! You sit on your ass and paint all day! When the fuck are you gonna realize that your stupid art shit isn't going to cut it in the real world?!"
Gwen flinched. "It will. I just need some more time."
"No one wants those damn paintings!" Blake continued, "they're all depressing as fuck!"
"Like I said, babe, more time. I'll even get a second job while I wait," she told him calmly.
"You call your painting a job?!" He cackled loudly.
"Blake, you're going to wake up everyone in this apartment complex. We can talk about this if you lower your voice."
"Don't treat me like a fucking child!" Blake growled. "I'm the one providing us with everything! You're nothing without me!"
"Yeah, thanks for reminding me. You tell me that every day," Gwen retorted.
"Because you can't get it through your head! How pathetic do you have to be to keep trying something that never worked in the past?!"
"It's only been a year. I still have time—"
"Yeah, you have more time to fuck up over and over again!" Blake said. "I'm done with your shit, Gwen. Your dream of becoming some huge artist is fucking stupid!"
"Then leave!" Gwen raised her voice. "My God. If you can't stand me, then get out!"
"Oh, please. If I left, you'd be crawling back to me. You can't handle yourself." Blake crossed his arms.
"Watch me," Gwen looked him dead in the eyes. She had never dared to stand up to him because he threatened to hit or leave her. But now that she wasn't afraid of him going, she had nothing to lose.
"Oh, you're really asking for it now!"
"Get out, Blake," she said through gritted teeth.
Blake gave her the meanest glare he's ever given her. "Let me get my things first." He stomped back to the bedroom.
Gwen let out a breath of relief. I'll be struggling even more financially, but hey, it's better than living with a narcissist, she thought. No more art supplies until I have a second job.
A few moments later, Blake came out of the room with his small suitcase. It was halfway unzipped, causing his clothes to hang out. "Good riddance. I left a surprise for you in your art room," he smirked cruelly.
Gwen's eyes were saucers. "What the hell did you do, Blake?" She stood up from the table, her body shaking.
"Go find out for yourself, Gwen." He walked out the door, slamming it.
"Mother fucker," Gwen whispered as she sprinted to her art room. When she saw it, she froze in place. "You have got to be kidding me. No way. No. Fucking. Way."
In the center of the room lay her favorite painting on the floor, torn to shreds. It was a painting of a wolf howling at the moon, except the moon wasn't a typical moon. Gwen had painted the "yin yang" moon to represent the light and dark side of the moon, which symbolized the light and dark side of humankind. The wolf was subject to humanity because it howled at the yin-yang. It took her the longest to paint, considering the number of tiny stars she had to make in the background and the detail on the wolf.
Gwen spent an hour trying to put her work back together with tape, but it didn't look the same anymore. It would never look the same. "FUCK!" She screamed, throwing the paper to the ground. "FUCK FUCK FUCK!"
There was suddenly a loud knock on her door. Great. Just great. This is the very LAST thing I need, she thought, marching toward her front door and swinging it open. "I know I'm being loud, but you don't understand what just happened!"
Her neighbor, a middle-aged woman, gave her a judgmental look. "It's two in the morning. I don't care if Jesus came back. We are trying to sleep! Now zip it!" She turned around, stuck up her nose, and walked back to her apartment in pink slippers.
Gwen shut the door, cursing to herself. "Stupid fucking Blake. He knew it was my favorite. He fucking knew."
Blake wasn't the first of these men Gwen had dated. Over four years, she had been with at least seven different guys. None lasted more than a couple of months, and they all had one thing in common: disrespecting women.
Gwen had come to terms with her "daddy issues," accepting that she'd never fall in love with the right guy. The closest thing to "right" that she got was Trent, and even they had too many issues. Sometimes she wondered if they would still be together if Total Drama Action had never happened. Maybe they could've had a better relationship and communicated better.
That was where Gwen fell short when it came to relationships: communication. Even now, as a twenty-three-year-old, she found it difficult to let people know how she felt. Perhaps that was how she ended up in this abusive dating cycle.
Gwen ended up falling asleep on the couch. She couldn't stand Blake's scent lingering under her covers in her bed, and she was too exhausted to change the sheets.
*~*~*~*~*
Meanwhile, Courtney stared at her purple digital clock. It read 3:15 am. Her left eye twitched, and she smacked that side of her face. Her eye had been doing that for the last two hours. She had been up all night studying for her final in law school, which was only four days—no, three days away now that it was morning.
Courtney initially planned on studying the entire weekend, but she was about to lose her mind. No, I need to keep going, she thought. If I can't handle one year of law school, I won't be able to take a lifetime of being a lawyer. She continued looking over her flash cards under the lamplight on her desk.
Courtney, you are such a failure! Her doubts came back to play. You're going to fail. You aren't studying hard enough. You've never studied hard enough. "Ugh!!!" Courtney threw her flashcards across the room. She picked up her phone and pressed Heather's contact.
Heather and Courtney became friends shortly after Total Drama All-Stars because they went to the same college. Miraculously, they were able to put their differences behind them. Things were quite different when there was no competition for a million dollars, after all.
"What?" Heather answered the phone with an annoyed sigh.
"Sorry if I woke you," Courtney flinched.
"Well, you did. What do you want?" She yawned.
"I was just calling to tell you that you're right. I've officially lost it!" Courtney slapped her hand on her thigh. "My brain is awol."
"I told you. That's what you get for studying too much," Heather said.
"I told you not to say I told you so!" Courtney snapped. She rubbed her forehead.
"That's my favorite phrase."
"I thought it was whatever."
"That's what I say to the paparazzi now," Heather told her.
"Smart. I really shouldn't say anything like I've been doing," Courtney sighed.
"You care way too much. The more you care, the more they'll ask you. They feed off of the juicy gossip. But don't worry. They'll stop when we're thirty," Heather said sarcastically.
"Ugh, stop saying things like that," Courtney groaned.
"It's true. Unless we end up on another stupid reality show."
"Don't say that either. I don't want to think about reality shows right now. Tell me something good."
"Courtney, it is way too early in the morning for me to think of anything except sleep. Maybe you should try that."
"Heather, I'm too anxious to fall asleep!"
"Then take a sleeping pill? I don't know," Heather said.
"I don't have any sleeping pills," Courtney replied.
"I don't know what to tell you, then. I'm not staying up for hours to talk. I have to be at work tomorrow at 8:00."
"I know. I'm sorry, Heather. I just needed to ensure I was still mentally here, you know?"
"Yeah, I get it. I—actually can't stand my job right now," Heather confessed.
Courtney gasped. "What? I thought you always wanted to do modeling!"
"I want to run my own modeling agency one day, not just be a model. I've done nothing but model for this stupid company for a year. I'm ready for a promotion of some sort. I have the best ideas!"
"I'm sure you do," Courtney smirked. "How's the boyfriend?"
"Just being Alejandro. A drama queen as usual," Heather answered with a laugh.
"Did he sleep over at your apartment?"
"No. He's focusing on work right now. I'm too much of a distraction for him, apparently."
"Cause you're muy caliente?" Courtney giggled.
"That, and last time he was trying to work, I kept making him look at pictures of dresses I was shopping for online," Heather said.
"What a jerk," Courtney joked.
"I know, right? That's what happens after four years in a relationship. He wants to work separately from me." Heather twirled her hair.
Just then, Courtney got an idea. "So, I was thinking...maybe we could go to The Night Owl tomorrow night? Well, it would technically be tonight since it's morning."
Heather raised an eyebrow. "Really? Courtney Barlow wants to party and get wasted?"
"I never said anything about getting wasted! I just—I need to let loose for a while. I'm overworking myself. You better agree to this before I change my mind and decide it's unproductive."
"Ok then, let's do it. I'm going to invite Alejandro, but I doubt he'll want to come."
"Ok. Don't let me change my mind between now and tomorrow night, Heather," Courtney said.
"I won't. I'll kidnap you if I have to," she replied.
"Thanks, bestie. It means the world to me."
"Mhm. Of course. I'll have my Uber driver pick you up at eight. No later. Got it?"
"Got it," Courtney nodded.
"Good. Now go to sleep," Heather said.
"Ok, ok. Goodnight."
"Goodnight." Heather hung up the phone and immediately texted Alejandro.
Alejandro was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Worries danced around in his head, tormenting him. Just give it a year, his father's voice echoed in the back of his mind. He had given it a year, and nothing had changed.
A year of following his dad, Pedro, around as a diplomatic intern made Alejandro hate the job more and more. It started exciting. Being paid to travel the world sounded like a dream. He had traveled to a few foreign places with his father this year, and meeting other people was always fun.
But it all went downhill after they had to stay in Yemen for a week. It was the longest week of Alejandro's life. The conditions were frightening and horrendous, making him feel bad for the citizens there. The straw that broke the camel's back was the number of people bombarding Pedro with stupid questions.
Just think, this will be you before you know it! Pedro would say. Alejandro would nod and smile, but he'd dread on the inside. He didn't understand how his father could do this job on the daily and be perfectly fine.
The fact that José was a rising diplomat made him rage with jealousy. In Alejandro's parents' eyes, José was the golden child. He followed in his father's footsteps, never missing a beat. Because of this, Alejandro pushed back his disinterest in the diplomat career and told himself he just needed to work harder. He needed to beat José. That was always the goal, right?
Alejandro's phone vibrated on his nightstand, interrupting his thoughts. He rolled over on his bed. An easy smile tugged at the corners of his lips when he saw his girlfriend's name on the screen. The panicked voices in his head ceased, and he read the message:
Hey, Courtney and I are going to The Night Owl tomorrow night at 8:00. Wanna come?
Alejandro thought about it. He knew there'd be drinking involved, and for once, drinking didn't sound so bad to him. Yeah, I'll go. Who's driving? He texted back.
Heather: Whoa, you're awake? And we can get an Uber or something
Alejandro: Yeah, can't sleep😕 Why are YOU awake?👀
Heather: Courtney woke me up😑
Why can't you sleep?
Alejandro: Not tired
Heather: Aw, that sucks
Alejandro never lied to Heather, but he didn't want to make this a big deal because he knew she was already stressed about how she wasn't getting a promotion so far at her modeling job.
Heather: I can't believe YOU want to go to a club. And DRINK?
Alejandro: Maybe. Life is a little stressful right now.
Heather: Yeah, same. Working sucks lol
Alejandro: Yeah. I wish we had more time to see each other😢
Heather: Me too, which is why I'm excited for tomorrow night😉
Alejandro laughed to himself. I'm excited too, mi amor. I will let you sleep now
Heather: Ok, goodnight💕
Alejandro: Goodnight🌙💞💙✨
Heather: Way to overdo it on the emojis🙄
Alejandro: You love it😏😘😁😍🥰
Heather: Goodnight, dork
Alejandro: Buenas noches😘
Alejandro felt better after that conversation with Heather. She always distracted him from the world. He couldn't believe they'd been together for four years now. Time flew by so quickly. He knew he wanted to take the next step with her, but he was crazy nervous. What if she said no? What if she decides she doesn't love him anymore between now and when he proposes? Fantástico, he thought. Other worries just replaced my worries. He rubbed his temples. Maybe I can ask Courtney to ask Heather how she feels about me tomorrow night and have her report it back, just to be safe. Yeah, I will do that. I don't want to look like a heartbroken fool when I propose to the love of my life.