Bad Reputation ♡ Rich Hardbeck (DISCONTINUED)

4♡ Identity

"So, what now?" Wendy smiles as they stand outside the tavern.

They were having so much fun. They had forgotten about Rich's angel of death.

He had almost forgotten about his weird feeling towards Wendy.

Almost.

If anything, today only made it harder to push aside.

"I uh, guess I'm gonna ask out the angel of death, first thing tomorrow" he looks down at his feet as a soft "oh" falls from Wendy's lips.

"Was I any help?" She stammers, she wasn't sure why but she felt a faint jabbing in her chest, like she was upset.

He nods, "Yeah, yeah, you helped. Cheers" he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth.

He wasn't sure what the right thing to do was anymore, the angel of death was hot, and a metalhead.

But she wasn't Wendy.

She fidgets with the hem of her dress as Rich clears his throat, "okay, well, I've gotta go. See you later" he smiles lightly, pulling his headphones on as he turns away.

She sighs as he slowly disappears down the road, "bye".

♡

Wendy walks through the door, throwing it shut as she drags past the living room.

"Are you wearing a dress?" Her mother appears by the door and she rolls her eyes, "Not now, alright?".

"Are you wearing makeup?" She presses surprised and Wendy looks back, "I said not now" she snaps, running upstairs.

She pushes her door shut, locking it as she paces across the floor.

She felt so...wrong.
So mixed up, like her insides were fizzle rocks and soda.

♡

Walking through the library, Wendy instantly spots Rich and she smiles, making her way over as she stops behind a shelf.

"Do you wanna grab a drink with me?" Rich asks the angel of death.

Wendy chews her lip, the girl always looked angry, like she hated everyone and everything as a bubble of worry fills her chest.

Surely it would go okay.

"No" the girl answers blankly and Rich nods, turning.

"Actually, no, why not?" He faces her again, mode confidently.

"Why not?" The girl raises her brows, "because I'm too pretty for you. Because you're weird-looking, because I can smell your pants from here, but mostly because I would rather rim the shit-smeared arsehole  of a dead horse with aids than even consider the possibility of touching your wiry, gangerous, vile, inadequate, half-circumcised, horrifically smelly, pubescent dick. Okay?" She spits.

Rich pales, staring at the floor as he heads for the door.

Wendy watches him leave with a sympathetic look, go after him a voice in her head shouts but an overwhelming anger fills her chest as she steps out from the shelf.