insta-groupchat; ogoc

eighty-four;

Mickey;

"Nathan." I say glancing up from the list of names I was writing to figure out how many people would be attending the wedding.

Nate was sitting across the room at his desk, working on his computer.

"Yeah babe?" He questions spinning around in his chair to make eye contact with me.

"About the wedding," I hesitantly begin.

"What Mickey, what wrong?" He asks getting up from his chair and coming over to the bed where I was sitting.

It's like he can sense the uneasy feelings I have before I even say a word.

He sits on the bed in front of me and grabs the list and pen from my hands and sets them aside.

"Tell me what's bothering you." He says pulling me closer.

I sigh as I look at him, knowing this conversation is going to go anything but well.

"The guest list Nate, that's what's bothering me, someone I want to be on it rather."

Nate's softened, sympathetic and worried expression disappears, as well as the protective hold he has around my body.

"Mickey please tell me this isn't about Noelle." Nate says anger laced ever so slightly through his voice.

I fear saying anything will only ignite his anger and push it toward rage.

"Mickey tell me you are not really fucking thinking about inviting that psychotic bitch Noelle to our wedding!" He shouts.

Maybe staying silent wasn't the best decision.

I take a breathe before speaking.

"Nate she's my best--was my best friend." I say.

He looks at me as if he's about to rip my head off and to be honest it scared me a bit but I know he wouldn't hit me.

"Exactly Mickey was your best friend before she turned insane." He said a bit calmer.

"She only did what she did because she was jealous ok, and that's partly my fault I stopped hanging out with her as much when you and I started dating."

"Are you seriously fucking defending her right now, what the fuck is wrong with you!?" He angrily questioned.

I scoffed, "Ok Nate, I understand why you don't want her there but I do ok, and if I remember correctly you're the one who was an idiot and thought I'd cheat on you." I was fed up with the way he was acting, pretty much like a 5 year old child who wasn't getting what he wanted.

"Are you ever gonna fucking let that go, I made a mistake, I apologized a million and one times, but that probably doesn't amount to much considering your a spoiled fucking brat who thinks your better than every fucking one let's not act like you've never fucking done anything wrong little miss fucking perfect."

Once those words slipped from his mouth I wanted to throw a chair right at him. "You know what Nate fuck you maybe we don't even need to worry about if Noelle's coming to the wedding our not because I don't even think I wanna have one anymore."

I was almost out the room when Nate grabbed my arm which is one thing he does that sends me in rage.

"Stop fucking doing that how many times have I told you to stop grabbing me like that!"

Nate's eyes widen and he lets go.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have grabbed you and I shouldn't have yelled and said what I said."

"I can't keep doing this with you Nate you getting into these out of the blue fits of rage then apologizing and me forgiving you two seconds later."

"Mickey, I know, I'm sorry." At this point my anger and saddens emotions were meshing and I just didn't know how to process it.

"I'm gonna go home." I say with no emotions. Nate looks at me trying to read my thoughts.

"Mickey please--" I cut him off before he continue.

"I'm not breaking things off I just need to go home Nathan." I sigh running my hands through my disheveled hair.

"Mickey." His hand grazes my arm but stops himself from grasping me again.

I leave him standing there in his bedroom door pane, I pick up my phone and pull up Sammy's contact.

As I sit in my car I begin to type.