Colorful | Phan | Completed

75%

"Hey, is there a bathroom upstairs?" I yelled over the music. "The one over there is clogged and the other is being used."

"What?" Felix yelled back.

"Is there a bathroom upstairs?" I hollered again.

Felix nodded, but proceeded to jump to the music. "Third door to the left!"

"Thanks." I held two thumbs up in case he couldn't hear me. The music progressively became quieter once I was on the second floor. I thought I heard people talking, but then decided my ears were playing tricks on me.

After doing my business, I left the bathroom to more whispers. At the end of it, before the turn, a tuxedo jacket laid on the floor. I picked it up from sheer wonder. The corsage on the right side was the same as the one on my left. I dropped the coat back onto the ground and peeked around the corner.

There was a flirtatious giggle, followed by a warm sigh. A girl was pinning a boy against a wall. I would've left them alone, but his hair was so unmistakable that I took a step out and stared at them.

It was a girl I didn't know, with brown curls going down her back. She pressed her body onto his chest and the slit of her dress revealed her long leg that was wrapped against Phil's.

I kept waiting for him to tell her to get off him, to tell her she wasn't what he wanted... To tell her that he had a date downstairs who really cared for him.

But he didn't.

Instead he kissed her back. He craved it. And she lavished in it. She giggled again at his affection and he moved his hands up and down her back.

The girl moved her lips down to Phil's neck, and he grinned. He had to be drunk. There was no other explanation unless he really, truly was cheating on me.

I almost turned around and ran, but Phil opened his eyes and saw me. Phil and I stared at each other. The girl continued to kiss up and down his neck.

The smile was off his face, and he seemed frozen in place. The girl hadn't noticed, so I backed away quietly.

Then I broke into a sprint. I held my breath until I was halfway down the hall. I skipped three stairs at a time and maneuvered my way through the party.

How could he.

How could I?

"Stupid..." I whispered to myself when the air hit my face. I decided to walk home, leaving the mansion behind me.

He had to of been drunk. I prayed that he was drunk. Maybe he would forget about it, and I'll make up some horrible lie about how I felt sick so I got a ride home. He would laugh and kiss me on the cheek, and we'd be normal again.

I didn't want to make a decision until we talked again. I had gotten to know Phil Lester well enough that I could tell he would never do something like that to a person.

The innocent color boy that read animal fact books and wore galaxy T-shirts to school... That's the mundane boy I fell in love with.

Had I changed him? Probably. Had I lead him to do this to me? Absolutely not. That was his doing.

I felt stunned. I didn't want to cry, didn't want to talk... I just wanted to get home.

When I entered my bedroom, I threw my suit jacket on my bed, rolled my sleeves up, and started painting.

Red.

Phil said that was anger.

But there was no red in my painting.

The canvas was covered in pink. A bright, beautiful pink that you would see on a rose, or a sky in spring. A bright beautiful pink that I destroyed with a few strokes of a paint brush dipped in black.

What a horrible thing to do, to destroy love.