Diana Ramirez, a talented but softly-spoken artist, has shared nearly two years of her life with her boyfriend, Billy Hargrove. Their relationship, once a source of joy, has gradually cast shadows over her vibrant spirit.
In the midst of this dimmin...
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I wish I was special I gave all my special Away to a loser Now I'm just a loser
- SZA
✶✧❃✧ ✶
Wednesday - October 14th, 1986
DIANA
I laid my head against the wooden surface of the reception desk, tapping my pencil against my sketchpad rhythmically. It had been a long, but slow day at the shop . I'd fallen asleep a couple of times, woke back up, sketched some random doodles...repeat cycle. I was pretty sure I could've dropped dead from boredom right then and there.
"Diana," Dad's voice spoke, making me quickly lift my head from the desktop. "It's been pretty dry today. Ben is gonna help me close up. You can head home for the night."
"Oh, okay." I said, grabbing my things and shoving them into my bag. "Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow, love you."
"Love you too, Mija. Be safe." he said, leaning over to kiss the top of my head before I stood up. I slung my canvas bag over my shoulder and grabbed my helmet from underneath the reception desk, feeling excited to get home.
I worked with my dad at his auto repair shop. It was mostly me bouncing around wherever he needed me, but I preferred to sit down at the reception desk and relax. Sometimes it got old coming home covered in grease and oil, so I enjoyed days like these.
Plus, it was Billy and I's second anniversary. So I was feeling eager to pick him up a gift and see him. On holidays or special occasions, he usually tried to put in a little more effort. My gifts were almost always flowers or a set of lingerie, so there was something in me hoping he would think outside of the box this time and get something more personal.
Not gonna get my hopes up though...
Billy was sweet—for the most part. He took care of me, and we had a lot of fun together whenever he was up for it. He had his moments where he could be angry, and it wasn't always necessarily because of me, but I did have to deal with it a lot of the time. Over time, I learned to ignore him and keep quiet to avoid any problems.
The cool October breeze blew past me as I pushed the back door open, causing a few stray pieces of my hair to blow into my face. I reached into the pocket of my jacket and grabbed my keys and skullcap, tugging it over my head as I sat down on my bike. She was a 1977 Harley XLCR 1000, and she was my pride and joy.
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