i smiled as the waiter walked away to refill my drink for what was probably the two hundredth time. it wasn't liquor, because knowing shawn and his bad habits, he expects me to drive home.
i had felt like a visitor in my own life for the last couple of weeks, nothing a tall glass of wine at dawn couldn't fix though. but numbing things was temporary, i wanted these terrible feelings to go away. not to mention how out of place i constantly felt, for example right now, watching shawn mingle from table to table as you sat by yourself at some press event.
i'm not sure when it happened, but i had gone from ordering my ginger ale's to glasses of wine, which soon became shots.
"ugh, what a night", shawn finally sat down across from me at our table, a grin on his face. "you okay?"
i shrugged, "do you actually care to know, or do you want me to reassure you to shield your guilt?" a snappy drunk was always great.
he bit on his smirk, "i didn't mean it like that."
"then how'd you mean it", i stared into his eyes deeply, trying to drunkenly read his expression.
"i-i don't know", he shrugged, "forget it", he looked down at the tons of glasses that were placed in front of me. he looked from me to the glasses a few times, "ya drink all of this?"
i leaned forward, taking a sip from a half-full wine glass, "wasn't i the only person sitting here for like three hours", i smirked as i placed it back on the table, "i want more", i looked for the waiter.
"you don't always need what you want", he tried to brush the glasses to the side.
"how ironic", i raised an eyebrow as i leaned on my arm, letting out a yawn.
"it's getting late", he looked down at his rolex, "let's get out of here", he scooted out of his seat, coming around to my side to grab my hand.
"stop acting like you give a shit", i stood up, wobbling slightly. he wrapped his arm around me, helping me keep my balance, "let me go!"
"star", he started, "babe, let's just--"
"babe?" i let out a dry laugh, "stop playing with my emotions! either love me, or don't. and not whenever you feel like it. not when it makes you feel like a better man after fucking cheating on me, night after night", i cried as paparazzi began to find their way to the scene.
"i'm sorry babe", shawn said quickly, "let's just talk about this at home", he went to grab my hand.
i pushed him away again though. even slightly more than buzzed, i knew i didn't want him. why was i numb to that realization while sober? "no, stop pretending to be saint! what difference would it make, i heard people talking shit about us all night? women frowning at me, calling me a gold digger. men pitying me, saying how bad they wanna 'hit' this", i motioned to my body, "but we all know i wouldn't fucking do that! i couldn't even muster up the courage to actually fucking cheat on you, i chickened out on harry styles. how does one even reject him", i let out another laugh, "my fault though, you've basically given me all the signs that you want a damn divorce and my clingy, annoying, dumbass has yet to realize that you don't love me anymore", i spoke, not even realizing the amount of tears that had fallen down my face.
but despite the flashes that went off every second, for the first time in what was probably forever, shawn was listening. he wasn't shocked, he wasn't angry, he was listening. to be honest, i don't know how he reacted after that because i wasn't a bit more than buzzed after all. i was blackout drunk, which i realized after i blacked out.
i didn't know that would be the last peaceful slumber that i'd have for awhile.
