Sugar

47

chapter forty seven
florence thompson
song: lost without you - freya ridings

I cried. I cried so hard, for days, for the entire week following.

I still showed up to work, but with a red nose and puffy eyes, looking miserable, as my coworkers had so lovingly told me. On my days off I spent my time curled up in my bed, only leaving to go to the bathroom or get food on the rare occasion that I'd been hungry and simultaneously had an appetite. It seemed one would usually come without the other more often than not.

Ben and Rico would grill me every time they saw me but I ignored their questions and worried gazes. The only time I would talk was to customers in order to take their orders, which I tried to avoid as much as possible since I was about as cheery as Eeyore and was definitely sore on the eyes currently.

They'd tried calling and texting but my phone had been on silent for days since the last thing I wanted was to read or listen to the bombardment of texts and calls I was getting. They'd come to my house after a few days and used the spare key I'd given Rico, I'd heard them outside my door, their chatter muffled. I'd already known they would eventually try that, so I'd made sure my sliding lock was in place and my deadbolt was securely locked.

I knew I was being ridiculous, pushing them out of the way this much and refusing to even speak to them, but sometimes when things happen, all you want to do is have a self-pity party of one. I knew that I was in a foul, beaten down mood and that I would be miserable to be around, and I didn't want to put them through that.

I didn't want to make them feel like my problems were theirs, especially when they were so silly like this.

On the eighth day of crying far more than I should, avoiding my friends at any cost, withering away in my apartment and hearing absolutely nothing from Vincent, I was tired of it. I was tired of the shitty feeling in my heart, and the heavy weight on my shoulders. I was tired of the zombie I saw in my reflection, the girl who barely resembled myself, the girl with bloodshot eyes and a red nose.

On that eighth day, I looked in the mirror and decided I was going to do something, be productive and get rid of this feeling that weighed me down to no end and made me feel so torn and stupid.

So, maybe it didn't go like that. Maybe my landlord finally had enough of my friends complaining and came up to my apartment and pounded on the door, threatening to kick me out if I didn't open the door, and I had no option.

When I'd swung the door open, my hair in a messy bun that hung too low and was half falling out, in a worn out oversized ACDC shirt and pajama shorts that couldn't even be seen, and came face to face with my landlord and a grinning Rico standing right behind him, I groaned loudly.

"This annoying shit wouldn't stop bothering me," my oh so sweet and pleasant landlord grumbled, hooking a finger over his shoulder to the sheepish Rico. I looked between the two of them. "He comes down to me one more time and I will evict you faster than you can blink, toots," he threatened, giving me a pointed look before he ran his hand over his balding head and glanced between the two of us and stalking off, back down the stairs.

My expression was as flat as it'd been when I'd opened the door, even after my landlord walked away. My arms were crossed over my chest as I stared at my best friend, but right now he was feeling like a traitor more than anything.

"How've you bee-,"

"What do you want, Rico?" I asked rather harshly, trying to get the the point before I grew more tired of this interaction more than I already was.

I knew I was way out of line, treating him and really all my friends like this, but I couldn't bare the thought of pulling them down into this hole with me and the only way to keep them out of it was to keep them up on ground level.