❀Don't Cry, Daddy❀

10. Apologizing Is The Hardest Part.

Danielle's POV:

Apologies, apologies. Why is that one of the hardest things for me to do? Two words; I'm sorry. Yeah, it won't fix anything I've ever said or did to the guy, but maybe if the apology is thought-out thoroughly, maybe it'll be somewhat enough to patch up the problems and get back on track with our friendship.

Cleaning my bedroom and the closet that's in the room wasn't helping anything at all. Everything I'd pick up reminded me of Jon. Why you may ask? Maybe it's because it was the outfit I was wearing the night I met him up in Atlanta for his Four Wheel Drive show. Or maybe it's the fact that I ended up finding the ballcap I bought from the first show I had ever saw him perform.

Oh yeah, I've been familiar with who Jon is. The first show I ever saw him perform at was at the Georgia Theater in Athens. It was a gift from one of my college roommates. I'll never ever forget that show. Like, ever. It was the most fun time of my life.

Flashback:

"Dresses?! Really?! Samantha, c'mon! I'm not a dress type of girl," I rolled my eyes at Sam and at all the outfit choices she had laid out for me on the bed.

"C'mon, Dani, loosen up! Remember, it isn't like you're going to meet the guy. Just try the five dresses on, pick your most favorite, and let's get a move on. You're being so damn difficult."

My friend and roommate, Samantha, man, she's a hot mess. I don't know how I'm able to share a dorm with her, but I make it work, somehow and someway.

With the most aggravated groan to ever escape my lips, I grabbed the first dress. It was a Free People dress slash romper thing.

Man, Samantha knows that we are going to have a few drinks, which means a few bathroom breaks will happen throughout the night. How in the hell am I supposed to get out of a romper?! Pull the whole entire thing off until it drops down to my ankles and sit on the toilet naked like that? No! That's public indecency, even though I'll be in a locked stall.

Why... Just, why does she have to make things so damn complicated? My tore up jeans and bleach-washed, custom made Jon Langston t-shirt would've totally sufficed for tonight. Why does she even want me to get dressed up anyway?

I'm more tomboy than I am girly-girl, but still. My t-shirt and jeans are what makes me feel like myself, and feel comfortable. I don't know how many times I'm going to have to tell her that to get it instilled in her mind. What a woman, that's all I will say. Because the other words that's in my mind isn't too kind, let's just put it as that.

After stepping out of the tiny bathroom the two of us shared, Sam squealed like a seal, "Danielle James! You look so sexy! That Christa Romper looks good on you! It compliments your beautiful skin tone, and don't get me started on your perfect hourglass figure."

Ugh, this is stupid, and definitely uncalled for! Why in the hell would I want to sweat my ass off in a dress? Or romper rather. It's different, I'll admit that. But the second it starts to get itchy or anything, I'll be taking a nice trip to the bathroom and change clothes.

End of flashback.

*Knock knock knock!* Someone was clearly needing to get in my house or was trying to get my attention at how loud the knock was at my door. It definitely scared me shitless.