{SPIN-OFF TO LET'S PRETEND}
{CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE}
"Are you joking? That's absurd - that is, that's straight ludicrous! "
─────☆*: .｡..｡.:*☆IN WHICH
Atalie Anderson is a cynic for love.
She absolutely hates all the puppy-
love shit. She ju...
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────── L U D I C R O U S [ chapter 69 • voicemails ] ──────
THE CONDENSATION FROM the glass drips down onto my skin and onto the dark mahogany bar. I tighten my grip around the glass and tip my head back as I finish the last of the contents in the glass.
Squinting my eyes shut, I place the glass down before lifting two fingers up, motioning for the bartender for another round.
My body jerks as I feel the seat beside me being taken, and just as I get up to move, a hand roughly grips my wrist. I stumble back into my seat, eyes shifting between the girl and the hand holding tightly onto my wrist.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Remove your fucking hand off of me."
She quickly removes her hand. "Wanna get out of here?" She ponders, raising a finger for a drink whilst her eyes are trained on me.
I grab the shot glass. "I'm gay," I say before tipping my head back, allowing the cold contents to trickle down my throat.
The brunette chokes on her drink, a splutter of coughs leaving her lips as she stares at me in bewilderment.
I quirk a brow at her. "Surprised?"
"Yeah, well, uh I mean it's just that you don't look gay," She says slowly.
I furrow my brows. "Do you know how stupid you sound?"
"Just the way you dress and your presence is just so masculine. I would never see you as the person to be into guys."
"Well, guess what bitch, he is. So move along before I beat your ass up." Nathan voice booms through the air over the loud music.
"That's my crazy boyfriend. He likes to kill people." I lean closely to her, muttering. I force a smile onto my lips just as I straighten my back up, and reach for the second shot glass in front of me.
The unknown brunette mutters something inaudible before leaving and Nathan takes her seat, while Zander leans against the bar to my left. "You look like shit," Nathan truly states.
I start to trace patterns onto the side of the glass, eyes narrowing down at the bar instead of my friends. "Yeah," I mumble out. I feel out of place in this bar under the vivid neon flashing lights and blaring music. But it's a way better mechanism to get my mind off of Atalie — being at the gym or doing soccer hasn't helped. "Yeah, I know."
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