Somebody That I Used To Know

➸ 5. Julien

Do you know someone who was close to you who changed and you feel like you don't even know them anymore? I have many of those on my list.

Enjoy.

xoxo - H.N. Von Ward

Julien's POV

I stood in the parking lot of school, pulling my smokes out of my pocket before lighting one up. I closed my eyes as I inhaled, letting the smoke fill my lungs before blowing it out, watching it billow around me as I glared at the building a few yards away from me.

 Anger built up inside me as the adrenaline pumped through my veins. I didn't want to be back here, so yeah, I was angry.

I've been angry for two fÙckïng years. All the partying, the women, the alcohol, the green habit, the copious amounts of tattoos on my body – it could attest to that. I liked being able to either not feel anything – or to go through pain in order to mask the other kind of pain; memories, mostly.

When I left this place, yeah, I was angry amongst other feelings. Now, I'm a whole different person and I hope these kids get that when they see me. I won't laugh at their stupid f'ing jokes anymore and I sure as hell won't fit in with the crowd I used to roll with.

The nice guy that I was when I left here, that's not the person I am now.

My cigarette was almost finished and I mentally patted myself on the back for remembering to bring my stash so I could skip lunch and blaze.

My first day back to a place I haven't seen in a long time.

Inhaling one last time, I threw the cigarette butt on the ground and crushed it with the heel of my boot, dreading walking in this hell hole. 

A group of girls walked past me as I slung my bag over my shoulder, moving away from my ride. Their wide eyes and seductive smirks followed by hushed whispers and giggles were nothing new to me. I'd been receiving that kind of attention since I went back to Paris. It got even worse once I started modeling, but that jig was already up.

I didn't even bother putting on a façade for them as if I were interested. I just narrowed my eyes, sending them a glare, but as an a$$hole, it only seemed to make girls more attracted.

I was the new guy, the 'bad boy'. Of course, I would draw attention. The girls always wanted to be with the bad ones, and I just so happened to fit that description. For some incredulous reason, girls like douche bag guys. Being not interested at all? It helped absolutely nothing. They would only try harder.

Ignoring them, I scowled back up at the high school I thought I would never see again. It held too many bad memories that were once good, but not anymore. Now, they were just meaningless painful memories that I didn't want to deal with.

With an exasperated sigh, I ran a hand through my styled hair and walked through the parking lot toward the building's glass entrance.

Thoughts were sweeping heavily in my mind as I spotted familiar faces here and there, ones that had changed over the past few years. I knew I had changed as well, more drastically than anyone else here - obviously.

I wondered how much she had changed, but I didn't want to see her. 

I was only mildly curious. 

I had spent the past two years hiding from social media and keeping my information private so that she would never try to contact me. I could never see or speak to her again, it was for her own good.