Chapter Eight:

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Scarlett

Months had passed and she still felt the same, the only difference was that she drowned herself in alcohol and used a various array of drugs much more frequently than she had ever done before.

She was digging herself into a hole that would soon be inescapable and the only person that could turn her around was nowhere to be found.

There wasn't a need for her to think about things and actually fall for him, but it had happened anyway. She was angry with herself for not ending it sooner. Perhaps if she had, she wouldn't be moping around and upset with his absence.

He had to have known, why else would he have left like that rather than just following the usual routine?

Whatever the case was, he wasn't around and she hated both him and herself for it. She never should have agreed to be his fuck buddy, there was a reason she didn't have any before him.

One night stands and walks of shame were so much easier than this.

All those months she'd gone along with their deal, hoping that she could push the feelings aside after they arose, two months into their arrangement, and now she found herself drowning in them along with her many addictions.

And, as if she weren't digging herself into a hole already, now she'd picked up the habit of brining random men home from the bar in hopes that they'd somehow get him out of her mind before she went crazy.

Currently, she was on her third attempt of 'replacing him' and actually being more disgusted than pleased. The guy was fit as hell but terrible in bed.

He never knew where to put his hands and always squeezed too hard. Plus, he certainly didn't measure up to him in other areas as well.

She'd waited for him to climax first before faking one of her own, the whole endeavour very displeasing from the start.

He literally fell on top of her, lacking even the kindness to not put his full weight on her, she grimaced and let out a groan before pushing him off.

"Get out."

The man apparently didn't understand the meaning as he rubbed at his joints, questioning, "What?"

Scarlett pulled the covers up to cover herself and lit a cigarette, puffing out a cloud of smoke before she answered calmly yet very annoyed, "I said, get out. There isn't a need for you to be here anymore, is there?"

He frowned and rubbed the back of his neck, mumbling his response, "I dunno, I thought maybe we could go again?"

Scarlett laughed dryly, "No. Definitely not."

He was up now, leaning forward on the bed, his hands trying to reach for her but missing because she'd moved back on the mattress, "Aw come on baby-"

Scarlett's jaw clenched, lips squeezing together tightly, cigarette perfectly balanced in her hand. It had only taken that one word and she was furious.

Teeth clenched she spoke in a low tone, "Get. Out. Now."

He made the mistake of trying to change her mind and she burned him with the cigarette, finally getting it in his head that she definitely wanted him to leave.

He threatened to call the cops before he slammed the front door but she knew he wouldn't and sighed deeply, closing her eyes and taking in a long drag, the familiar taste of nicotine oddly comforting.

She missed the annoying prick that always took the cigarette right out of her hand, or her mouth, wherever it happened to be the moment he wanted it, always claiming, "I did buy them, a little sharing never hurts sweetheart." And then giving her a chaste kiss, the taste of mint always enveloping her senses briefly as he did so.

The apartment felt more empty than it had ever been before and she loathed it. Every god damn thing about it now pissed her off. The lack of his near constant presence was astounding.

Only a few minutes had passed before she picked up a random ashtray and chucked it at the wall, easing her frustration slightly before leading her to tears.

She'd gotten up to drown her sorrows in alcohol, it would momentarily keep her mind astray, and, if she'd had enough, knock her out.

She'd done just so, passing out on her couch, a half empty bottle of vodka in one hand, her body sprawled haphazardly on the cushions almost like a strange statue.

Of course, once the sun peaked on the horizon and had spent half the day high in the sky, she'd finally woken, hungover, and started round two of her plan to cleanse her mind of him; he wasn't coming back and she would make that okay.

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