The Mad Ones², 𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨

08 𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙗 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙣

08
𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙗 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙣

OCTAVIA.
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I'd repeatedly asked myself what kind of girl dates Rafe Cameron. I wanted to be able to fit her into a box of expectations so that I'd be prepared to see her in person.

But I knew next to nothing about Graylin Thornton.

There was this thing Andrew had once told me when we'd been together that had stuck with me. There're two kinds of girls; the kind who break hearts and the kind who get their heart broken. I didn't know which one I was until Andrew left me. Only then did I realize how much it defined me.

I saw more similarities between my ex and Rafe Cameron than I'd like to admit, starting with the fact that they were both heartbreakers. But what about their victims?

A still of a girl holding a polaroid camera to half her face was grinning up at me from my phone. Her blonde hair fell in beach waves around sun-kissed shoulders and even though she was squinting the eye not covered by her camera, I was willing to bet that her eye color was as blue as the ocean waves that foamed up the beach behind her.

The caption read 'his view vs. mine (mine's better)' and when I swiped, the next photo in the slide deck was one of a polaroid she'd taken of Rafe cuddling a golden retriever.

His smile made my stomach twist itself into a knot. He looked so innocent in the picture that it was nearly impossible to believe he'd murdered someone only days prior.

I swiped away from the photo, eager to get Rafe out sight, and looked through others.

"What kind of girl are you, Blondie?" I mumbled to myself as I scrolled on my phone while tucked away in a booth at the restaurant I frequented during my lunch breaks. I almost absentmindedly dismissed a text notification before the sender's name caught my attention.

Rafe's gf
'I'm here where are you'

I looked up from my phone and towards the restaurant's entrance to see her standing only a few feet away, looking at her phone. When she looked up, her eyes incidentally found mind. We stared at each other for a few stagnant moments before she sauntered over to me.

The girl from Instagram sported cute bikinis and had been full of life from the crown of her golden head to the balls of her feet. The girl who slid into the booth across the table from me was fitted into an oversized shirt and looked emotionally drained and visibly nauseous.

And her ocean blue eyes did not hide her sadness.

So, you're like me, I felt comfort in knowing. Welcome to the club for the heartbroken.

"You're not who I was expecting to see." I began with while sliding over a spare glass of water in her direction.

"How's that?" Blondie's response came fast and unwavering. "Did you text the wrong number when you asked to meet here?"

"No." I slid my phone over to her, settling it next to her untouched water. "I thought I'd be meeting with someone who looked like her."

She humored me by looking down at the picture I had pulled up on my phone, but even when she saw the smiling version of herself, her grim expression in the present didn't falter.

"That girl's been having a rough two days." She shrugged. "Between us girls, you know how it is." She finally pulled the water glass towards her and curled her lips around the straw.