CHAPTER 34
⌗ 𓂃 𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅ouch﹅ ᰷ 𖥔༌ 𓂃⌗
I felt betrayed. hurt beyond belief.
vance. how could he do this shit to me? I trusted him. I had given him my heart and he'd shattered it.
and cheyenne. that bitch! not only has she hurt me, but bruce as well.
I had arranged to meet cheyenne and bruce face to face and it was time to leave to see them. I grabbed my jacket and keys and headed out of the door. I sighed as I walked, preparing myself to talk to her.
when I reached the park, the two were already there, bruce's arm around a teary cheyenne. I rolled my eyes at her. why was she the one crying? when I came into their view, she sat upright and wiped teardrops off of her cheeks. I continued towards them with an annoyed look.
"y/n, I promise, I promise I did nothing with vance! I tripped over and he pulled me out of the way of an oncoming car! he practically immediately let go once he realised where his hand was, he said he automated to me being you! he says apparently you trip over a lot which isn't wrong..." cheyenne gave an awkward laugh but I remained stone faced.
"so you didn't think to shrug him off?" I blatantly asked with a shrug.
"I- I didn't think! in my head, he was just helping me. I didn't realise it was bad..." of course. I should've known. cheyenne is the most oblivious, innocent and probably autistic person ever. literally, she didn't talk apart from cry until she was 4 months.
"cheyenne, I get you didn't realise..." I huffed out, my anger starting to dissipate a little. "did you seriously not clock that it might've been bad that vance had wrapped an arm around your waist?"
"no... I thought he was helping me." I scanned her face for any hint of lies, but she looked genuinely lost. I sighed again and sat beside her on the bench.
"think next time, cheyenne. you only see it in romance movies where a guy holds a girl's waist." I said, frustrated. cheyenne was quiet for a moment.
"oh yeah..."
jesus christ, this girl.
***
"what. a. bitch." imani said as she cracked open a bote of coke and slid it to me across her kitchen counter. we were in her house, gossiping away in her kitchen as the chaos of our lives ensued.
"cheyenne? nah. we all know how loopy she is." I chuckled a little.
"no! vance! fucking bitch." she muttered, struggling to pop the cap off of her bottle.
"he's really pissed me off. I told him we're on a break." I said.
"good for you— woah! oops." we both ducked as her bottle cap went flying. "you looking for anyone else? i've got a cousin coming over for a late birthday thing?"
"no, imani. I'm not. I'm still with vance, just taking a bit of time away. god, amanda hobbs would jump at this opportunity." I laughed bitterly.
"well that bitch can go fuck herself!" imani raised her bottle.
"preach, baby." I clinked the neck of my bottle against hers before we both drank again.
"fuck this. wanna get drunk and watch trash tv?" imani asked.
"I thought you'd never ask."
***
imani and I drunkenly giggled as we watched the partridge family crack another corny joke.
"I- I... they're so funny! I never... never knew they were this funny." I giggled, my words slurred from the alcohol.
"I... I know! they should... we! we should call someone!" imani sat up from her slouched position with a look of newfound revelation.
"ooh!" I sat up with equal excitement. I suddenly slouched down again. "but... who?!"
"...I... vance! let him know how much of a bitch he is." I hesitated for a second at her request, a sliver of sober doubt seeping through my inebriated brain. I squirmed in my seat for a second.
"I dunno, imani..." I muttered.
"let's do it." imani stumbled to pick up the phone beside the armrest of the sofa she was leaning on and began flipping through the yellow pages. she dialled the number for vance's phone and let it ring.
for some reason, tears began to pool in my eyes. my drunken state began feeling the sadness of my situation settle in, memories coming back to me.
"vance hopper. what d'you want?" my breath hitched as I heard vance's voice leak through the receiver.
"vance— vance hopper? you... are... such a bitch." imani slurred out.
"i-imani? what are you... are you drunk?"
"I'm help— helping my baby y/n. cuz yyyoooouuu hurt her. and you're a bitch!" imani yelled, holding the part of the receiver which you speak into close to her mouth. I let out a whimper and shot forward to wrestle the receiver out of her hands. "nooo. no!"
"vance? vance?!" I worriedly yelled into the receiver.
"y/n, listen. you're drunk right now—" I cut him off.
"no, no you listen to me! I... I love you! so, so much. I... I gave you my heart. I let you in!" my tears started to fall and my voice began wobbling. "and you took advantage of that... I... want you to love me! and that's selfish... but... oh, vance..."
as I began crying my eyes out, imani snatched the phone back.
"see?! see what you've done?! fuck you... fuck you, shitwipe." imani slammed the phone down before jumping over to me and bringing me into a hug. she began drunkenly consoling me through my tears with stupid jokes and crappy singing.
***
I woke up in imani's bed, still in my makeup and with what seemed to be imani's pyjamas on. I blinked through my headache and rolled out of the bed. I walked towards her door and headed towards the sound of the ronettes. imani's favourite band. I stood at the door of her kitchen and watched her cook pancakes on the stove.
"someone's chirpy." I groaned out. she looked to me, with a surprised smile.
"because I sobered up. around 3 o'clock? and slept through my hangover. you, on the other hand, kept drinking! I took you to bed, you kept telling me about vance. it was cute, and kinda sad considering the situation." she chuckled, flipping the pancake with her spatula. we both turned our heads to the door when the doorbell rang. "i'll get it, keep an eye on the pancake?"
I nodded and took the spatula from her, standing over the stove, as she headed towards the door. there was a faint conversation before;
"y/n? y/n!"
"get the fuck out of my house!"
"vance?!" I asked in shock as he came bounding through the kitchen door.
"baby, I have to talk to you. please, I'm going insane without you, I hate when you're mad at me!" he stood at the door in a wreck.
"vance... it's been little more than two days." I said, taking the pan off of the heat and crossing my arms.
"I need to explain and apologise. I got defensive, which I shouldn't have done! I understand how that made me look, resorting to you thinking I'm cheating and all. but—" imani cut off his rant.
"listen, fuckface, she's not ready to talk to you yet. you need to learn to give her space." she said.
"let her speak for herself!" vance angrily whipped around to her.
"no, she's right! I just need some space at the minute. I need to think." I snapped at him before softening my tone.
I watched as vance turned helplessly between imani and I, struggling for words as he knew that each time he'd be cut off. he sighed in defeat, throwing his arms up and then back down at his sides.
"I... I..." he sighed again. "fuck. I'm going, I'm going."
as he walked past imani, she grabbed his arm and dragged him to the door. not wanting to be yelled at again, vance let himself get dragged away but couldn't help one last look back. the look on his face was helpless and sad, broken that he couldn't make amends with me.
the door slammed from imani's force behind vance, signalling he'd left. imani came back into the kitchen, dusting her hands off with an accomplished sigh.
"ah, now that's done. breakfast?" she asked with a smile.
"uh... yeah." I walked past her and handed her the spatula before sitting down at her kitchen table and resting my head in my hands.
what a fucking morning.
***
OOHHHH
I LOVE WRITING DRUNK CHARACTERS ITS SO FUNN
HERE YOU GO SWEETIES 🫶🏼
also I have a new book I'm writing hehehehe
dunno when I'm gonna continue MELTING, my steve harrington one 😭😭😭