Downfall | Austin Butler

Chapter 10

a million chances of our glances
catching eyes across the room
if time stands still, move i will to you
this was filmed, somehow i see you.
— stand still, zayn

——

"Are you at the door?" Sydney's voice boomed through my speaker, still on the phone with me.

"Yeah," I confirmed, trying my best to unlock our front door. It always gave us some sort of issue. The mechanism was absolutely busted. Of course no matter how many times we tried to inform our landlord of this, he'd brush us off and say he'd take care of it, but of course he never did. "Wait," my brows furrowed as I tried to understand how the fuck she knew I was at the door. She always went out on Saturday nights so it was odd for her to be home. "Are you home?"

"Yeah, but –" She began, but got completely cut off the moment I triumphantly succeeded in opening our front door – chanting a solid 'hell yeah!' into the air.

It was all about the angle, baby.

"Mama's in the building!" I quipped, ending our call once the door swung open. It was customary for me to at least drop one joke to service how shaken up I was – to camouflage it to the best of my abilities.

Bracing a hand on the doorframe, I tried my best to kick my shoes off without bending down, too fucking tired to attempt some acrobatic type shit at this very moment.

I was far too busy staring at my feet, trying to pry these tied up, crusty ass converse off my feet when I heard the clank of what I figured to be heels dropping against our wooden floor boards. Looking up I was met with Sydney who was dressed to the nines – full face of makeup, popping red lipstick, a two piece black set, and some matching heels.

"Oh shit!" I called out, completely stopping my actions. "You look smoking hot," I complimented, adding a lovely deep toned frat boy accent for some flare.

"Thank you," she blushed, shaking her head at my antics . "If you can't tell, I'm going out." I watched as she dropped her phone against our countertop before reaching down to adjust the straps of her heels. "Just for drinks with Brock and some of his buddies."

"Ah," I momentarily pushed my hair back, already preparing myself for the workout that would ensue once I tried to take my sneakers off again. "Night out with the boys, yeah?"

"Looks like it," she muffled into the floor, seeming apprehensive about going out. Straightening up, she pushed her hair out of her face. "I can't tell what kind of impression he has of me. Apparently one of the dudes that is coming tonight is his cousin. Do you think that means he sees me as one of his supposed bros, or is this something more? Like is this his first step in me meeting his family?" She waved her arms in the air, trying to break this down. "I mean I know that might just sound ridiculous, but Christ, he's so hard to read!"

"What do you want it to be," Finally getting one shoe off, I continued, " or hope for it to be?" I asked instead, trying to see where her mind was when it came to Brock – what she really wanted from him. I started feeling my nerves subside at this switch of attention, my mind focusing on what was going on with Sydney instead of drowning in reliving every miniscule detail of my walk home – trying to decipher every single second.

Dropping down on one of the nearby stools, her shoulders slackened. "I don't know," she admitted. "I like him a lot, but I haven't spent enough time with him to know if he actually likes me or not."

"So, maybe that is what you have to do," I poured out the very minimal advice I had when it came to dating. I was typically the type that watched people's relationships. Learned what and what not to do in one, instead of actually taking the time to be in one myself. "Spend some more time with him, but don't let your guard down. See where tonight takes you and then go from there."