Something Beautiful

13•something desperate

As cliche as it sounded, Umi was not like this.

She did not wallow herself in the bitter liquid, nor was she dependent for intoxication.

Sure, she did twice on both sad occasions, now third.

But what else could she do?

Alcohol is not the solution to everything. Drinking beer on a shot glass didn't make her buzz last longer as well. Instead, she just remembered the promise she made with James the next time they went out for a drink.

But James was a liar, so was Ethan. So was everyone else.

Umi grinned, her face stuck to the counter, covered with a few wisps of her hair. That was fast, she thought. Would being the first family, even not on documents make them any better? In fact, for the most part, signed papers approved by law are far more superior than feelings, promises and her mother's martyr sacrifices.

The truth was twisted, and Umi loved and hated how crooked it was.

She giggled, now eyeing the liquid on her glass and downed. Ah, she wanted to go back to that table and ask Pauline.

How do you feel now?

It must be fun—trampling on her feelings and popping her bubble.

Then Umi would be no different to those who hurt her.

But they all deserve it, a part of her debated.

"Ma'am?" Someone faintly shook her shoulders before she could even agree to herself. The person talked about her phone ringing. The music box was subdued by the jazz in the background, but the vibration bothered her more.

The voice said he answered the call and that a friend was coming. She grinned at the bartender, unable to defend herself that she had no one. Instead, Umi drank the beer straight from the bottle.

Consciousness drifted back to the surface when strong arms lifted her.

"Wait."

The stranger did not listen.

"I can still walk."

"No, you can't."

"Put me down!"

"No."

Umi struggled, her arms flailing like jelly and her vision spinning. Until finally, she was defeated, resting on strong arms. Not a stranger's, but Ethan's, until finally she was strapped to the front seat. Silence prevailed during the trip, with the occasional hum of the engine between them. Arriving at her apartment, Umi handed him the keys, falling just as quickly when she took them out of her bag. He caught it and carried her inside the bedroom wordlessly.

Losing inhibitions and bad decisions are the best and worst things from alcohol. Yet, she couldn't even curse him or call him a liar in synonyms.

And he, the sound-minded between the two of them, should have left with the glare she's been giving him from the bed.

"I hate you." Finally, she spat.

Ethan half-kneeled to meet her eyes, "I know..."

"I hate you." She punched his chest, more so of a helpless slap with her meager strength. She was too weak that her attempt to hurt him seemed like a lie, like the words spewing out of her mouth.

"I hate you." Out of everyone, she's the biggest liar.

Ethan caught her hands, enveloped them with his like a sheltered prayer. She couldn't even see his regret in her hazy vision, filled with tears.