MAGNETIC [H.S.]

25. cried like a baby.

"What's your name again? I can't remember, sorry." I slid my drink closer to my face and tried to catch the two little straws with my tongue.

"Marco." A nice man, a sweet little man who kept serving me drinks while I plopped my fat ass on this barstool. Airport bars were the best, they poured heavy.

"MARCO. That's right. Listen, Marco, I fucking hate Florida. I'm never coming back here." I shook my head and watched my drink multiply before my eyes while I did it. It made me giggle, but my thoughts quickly brought that to an end.

I chugged my drink and aggressively set my empty glass on the table, the ice rattled. "I hate them, I hate all five of them, they're so mean to me! I hate them and I hate my parents. James and Betty Payne, fucking evil walking, I swear. They poisoned him, Marco. They poisoned him and made him mean to me again." I felt my sinuses sting and sniffled, desperate to keep the tears at bay.

"How dare he speak to me that way!? I didn't fucking deserve that! He's so MEAN, Marco, but he's so sweet too. How is that possible? How did he say that to me after the way he kissed me this morning? How did he look me in the eye and say that, there were tears in his eyes! Why did he do that to me!?" Yeah, keeping tears in didn't really work. They leaked from the corners of my eyes and Marco took pity on me. He handed me a few extra napkins while he made someone else a drink.

"You know what, I shouldn't even be surprised. This fucker has done this to me before. Every single time I think we've got it and things are real and working, he fucking ruins it. Let me tell you! Let me tell you about college, the fucking audacity of this man." This was good, I could get it all out now and by the time I landed in New York, my mind would be rid of Harry Styles.

"We've known each other for like, 10 years almost. We went to high school together, he was my neighbor, he-, we-, no, no, no, we're focusing on college. Right. College. So! The summer before my senior year, and throughout the beginning of my senior year, we were like a thing. We were an item. It was secret, but not like that secret, we were really sloppy about it. It was like a fever dream." I was talking so fast, but Marco just nodded along calmly, giving me eye contact when he could to let me know he was listening.

"He was bad. Bad, bad news Marco, but I could change him. I thought if I loved him enough, I could change him. I thought that if he loved me enough, he would want to change. I, uh, I played myself on that one Marco, I truly did. Anyway, I knew what I was getting into, I knew it was some shady shit, but I was overlooking it, okay? I was overlookin' it because you have to understand that he is so fucking pretty. He's so pretty, and his dick, my GOD." The man a few stools over from me started to snicker and I got embarrassed. I could feel the heat rise to my cheeks.

"Oops. I probably shouldn't talk about that. Disregard that, you never heard that, okay?" I whispered toward Marco who just gave me a little smile and nodded.

"So, we had this window thing when we were neighbors, and it carried over into college. I'd leave my window open and he would throw things through it to tell me that he was there, waiting for me. Cute huh? Cute motherfucker, yeah. So anyway, he'd wait there for me and he'd take me out, and we'd argue and fight and kiss and fuck, and it was so good. It was passionate in the most toxic way, but god do I love him. Loved him. I loved him. Past tense, Marco, that's important." He hummed in agreement and asked if I wanted another drink. Obviously, I said yes.

"It was cruel, Marco. The way he let me have him, let me love him. I told everyone that it was casual, it was fleeting, just for fun, but it wasn't. It wasn't just for fun." My heart hurt for that girl in my past, she would be hurting for the girl in my present too. I took a deep breath and blew it out, determined to finish my sob story so that it was out of my system.

"One night, we were arguing outside of some stupid club arcade and we were by a vending machine and he told me that I should stay away from him, he told me that we'd just screw it up, but I wouldn't let go. That's how it always goes, I was always waiting for him to end things, always waiting for him to hurt me. He hurts me so bad sometimes, but I'll never show him. He'll be the last to know if he hurts me, he doesn't deserve to see me lose it over him." I was just staring into my glass, watching the bubbles from my soda water pierce through the vodka.

"And then one time, after we made up from that incident, we were at a bar downtown and my brother called him. My brother and him are like besties, anyway, my brother called him and Harry just sat right next to me and lied. He told Liam that he was out at some bar, chasing after a woman he worked with. He said she was boring though, and he was going to go home soon. I knew he was just covering us up, but I cried the whole way home from the bar. He kept asking me what was wrong, and I finally snapped. After months and months of sneaking around, sealing my pathetic fate with that man, I snapped." Marco was making drinks slower now, clearly invested in my story.

"We stood on the sidewalk outside my building and I was yelling, because I was drunk. I told him I didn't want to be a secret, I didn't want to keep secrets just to keep us. I told him I wanted something real, and that I wanted to be loved. I screamed that I loved him. Right there on the street, Marco. I screamed 'I love you!' and he looked at me like it was the worst thing he'd ever heard." A tiny gasp entered Marco's lungs and he gave me the saddest look of pity I've ever seen.

"Two hours before that moment, his face was buried between my legs in the women's bathroom and he was smiling up at me like living, breathing sin. But at that moment he looked so scared, Marco. He looked like I'd slapped him across the face like he'd seen a ghost, like his whole life flashed before his eyes and it was dreadful." I huffed a breath and chugged my drink again, hoping I wouldn't remember embarrassing myself this much in the morning.

"Miami was a never-ending summer, but ours came to a screeching halt. Carnage, wreckage, bleeding cuts, and scars were all left behind. I thought he'd healed them, he drew stars around my old wounds, made them shiny and pretty again, but that night they were bleeding. That night, he left me. I watched him leave me and I remembered thinking that when he looked at me like that, he felt like my father." I was crying again, I saw the teardrops fall onto my napkin.

"So I'm going home. I'm never coming back here. I'm not speaking to him again, and the others will have to do some serious fucking groveling if they think that their silence will be forgiven." I was sniffling and crying, unable to stop the emotions as they overwhelmed me in my vulnerable state.

"I thought we were happy, Marco. I thought it was finally our turn, that the universe was finally going to get what it wanted, but apparently not. I'm sad, Marco. I'm so sad.
I just want him to love me." I laid my head and arms on the counter and cried into my sleeve, I was well past the point of trying to maintain my dignity.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," Marco said in a sweet voice as he approached my end of the counter. "Do you want to pay with cash or card?" Was the next thing out of his mouth.

"I hate men." That was all I responded with as I threw my debit card at him.

I don't remember the flight, really. I slept for pretty much all of it, my seat neighbor was nice enough to gently nudge me awake before landing, she didn't want any turbulence to scare me.

I remember getting off the plane and throwing up in the bathroom almost immediately. I remember getting a cab riding in silence back to my apartment. It was beautiful that night, crystal clear and warm. A beautiful summer night, and I was crying in the back of a cab.

I cried walking up the stairs to my apartment, I cried taking my shoes off and throwing my bag down. I cried through a cool shower and while I pulled my pajamas. I cried myself to sleep that night, alone in my bed.

When I woke up, I had no tears left for him.

Or so I thought.
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hey, hi, hello again.

:) welcome to the official halfway point.

buckle up, friends. make sure your seatbelts are fastened securely, and remember that i love you.

thanks for being here -mo.❤️‍🔥