What Could've Been Us l EDITING

seven

M A T T I A S

For the rest of the day, I was on edge. Ever since I ran into Chantelle near the lounge, she's been ignoring me. We rarely speak, but after whatever happened, she hasn't said a word. She hasn't even sent a single glance my way.

I shouldn't be bothered, but I am. There was obviously something happening in the lounge. I could've sworn I heard a moan.

Some stupid shit is always happening, and I don't even know why. And it's always revolving around one person.

There are times when I really want to set this place on fire.

I look over to my leg that's bouncing up and down. The door to my office opens, and my father, whose face is red, and whose hair is messy, walks into the room.

It isn't that hard to put two and two together. My fists clench as I stare at the man who calls himself my dad take a seat at the desk as if he wasn't just fucking his secretary in the lounge.

For the whole staff to see. Has Janice ever heard of self-respect? Probably not. I look over to my father in disgust.

"Perché continui a guardarmi così?" His voice startles me.
(Why do you keep looking at me like that?)

"Because you're a piece of shit." I simply state.

My father and I have reached this point in our relationship that neither of us care about respecting each other. The word has lost it's meaning for us.

"Quants volte ti ho detto di non parlami in quel modo?"
(How many times have I told you to not speak to me that way?)

"Oh fuck off." I abruptly stand up, grab my things, and start to leave when my father's voice stops me at the last second.

"I find it funny that you think you can get away with speaking like that to me.  Who do you think you are? You're just a pathetic little shit, who works for his dad because he is incapable of making a name for himself. Sometimes I wonder how we share the same blood. You are my biggest disappointment." He spats out the last sentence.

I give my dad a blank look before I slam the door shut.

Why didn't I fight back? Why didn't I do anything? Say anything. I was weak. That's why. I was too scared to say something. I thought that it would eliminate the chances of him finally loving me.

It was pathetic because I knew he wouldn't. My father would never love me. I was unlovable.

Life was hopeless. I was hopeless.

I couldn't bring myself to tell my mom what her husband was doing while she wasn't paying attention. Not only that, but I knew it would destroy her.

I've tried giving hints that she should divorce him. But she would brush them off and tell me I'm overreacting.

I guess love really does make you blind.

• • •

C H A N T E L L E

I was exhausted. As soon as I entered my apartment, I collapsed on the couch. The next few months were going to be tiring.