I stumble down the stairs, tears blurring my vision. My throat was a tight knot, aching every time I drew in a shaky, ragged breath.
My eyes searched the crowd of people for Sophie. Where was the goddamn woman? I had to go. I had to get out of here. I couldn’t face Mike, I was a mess. I was an embarrassment, and he deserved better than me.
Finally, I spotted Sophie pinned against a wall, by none other than Tony Perry. They were making out with such hunger and eagerness that it made me uncomfortable to even look at them. I steeled myself and walked over to them, clearing my throat a little too loudly for them to hear me.
Sophie snapped to attention. “Sam, hey.” Her smile was wide and goofy. She was wasted. But even in her drunken state, Sophie knew me all too well. Her smile slipped from her face when she saw my red rimmed eyes and the trails of dry tears down my cheeks. “What happened?”
She gently separated Tony from her and put her hands on my shoulders, her eyes boring into me. “I—I just want to go.” I sniffed.
“Okay, we will.” Sophie assured me as she tucked a stray hair behind my ear.
Tony looked at me, a look of genuine worry on his face. “Are you okay?” His tone seemed sincere. If only he knew.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I shot him a reassuring smile. “I just really want to go home now.”
He frowned, not convinced. “Sam, what did Mike do?”
“Nothing, really. It’s my fault.” And it was. It really was my fault.
Still, Tony didn’t seem to believe me. He looked past me and muttered. “If you want to avoid Mike, you better get going. He’s coming down the stairs.”
My heart stopped. No no no no. I couldn’t face him. “Sophie, please.” I begged her, and she nodded.
She turned to face Tony. “It’s okay. Go. I’ll call you.” He told her, flashing a small and timid smile.
Sophie nodded at him once and dragged me by the hand, through the tightly packed crowd of people. I heard my name being shouted over the sound of the music, and the tears came again, pooling down my cheeks, hot and angry.
“Hey! Where are you going?” Vic stepped in front of us. Why? I implored. The door was just a couple of steps away.
I couldn’t speak, I just couldn’t. “Vic, we just really need to go.” Sophie motioned over to me, and Vic’s face turned into a scowl.
“Jesus Christ, what the fuck is wrong with him?” He hissed, like he already knew the reason for my tears. Oh, but he didn’t. Nobody knew, except for Sophie.
I found my voice, somehow. “Vic, please. I want to leave.” I put as much emotion to my gaze as I could, and eventually he nodded silently, stepping aside.
Sophie dragged me the last couple of steps, put a hand on the doorknob and pulled.
“SAM!” I heard Mikes voice behind me. No. “Wait!” This, followed by a loud curse.
“What the fuck happened man?” Vic’s voice cut out his curse word.
Vic’s words were the last I heard as I stepped out into the cold, starry night, shutting the door behind me, with a heart as cold and heavy as stone.


Saturday morning came with a big headache, bad breath, and ridiculously puffy, red eyes. I could easily say that I lay in bed for about 45 minutes before even considering getting up. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, memories and feelings.
I had fooled myself into believing that maybe Mike might be different from the rest. How could I have ever let that idea cross my mind? Mike was a rock star. It was actually more unlikely for him to be different than any other ordinary guy.
And then there was me. I had trouble letting people in. I’ve been so hurt in the past, and I never want to go back to being that miserable, pathetic excuse of a human being. I was stupid for letting my walls come down that easily, that quick. I couldn’t let that happen again.
I rolled around and checked my phone screen. 8 missed calls from Mike, and 7 text messages:
“Sam, I’m so sorry. Please pick up the phone.”
“Where are you? Please let me know if you got home safely.”
“Dammit Samantha answer the phone.”
“I need to talk to you. I’m sorry.”
“Sam? Are you home yet?”
“I’m a fucking idiot Sam, I’m begging you please pick up.”
“I’m sorry.”
My heart ached in my chest, a fresh wound scratched across the tissue covered surface of it. He was sorry, but I was sorry too. It was best if I only let him continue on with his life of women, parties and touring. Who was I to change who he was?
I got out of bed and walked to the kitchen where Sophie sat on the counter, a cup of coffee in one hand and a book in the other. She looked up when I approached and smiled at me.
“Hey big girl, you are you doing?” She put down her coffee and closed her book.
Terrible. “I’m fine.” I lied, as I poured some cereal into a bowl.
“Are you going to tell me what happened? Tony texted me, saying Mike was all freaked out.” She frowned. “He said he was texting you but you didn’t answer. I let them know we got home safely.”
Good, I didn’t want Mike worrying over me. I just wanted him to forget I even existed. “You know what happened Sophie,” I sighed heavily and poured milk on my cereal. “He wanted something that I couldn’t give him, and he deserves better than me.”
“Hey!” she pointed a finger at me angrily. “First of all, do not say you’re not good enough. He is a lucky guy for even having the chance to get to know you.” Her eyes were dead serious, and her expression was one of frustration. “Second of all, I’m proud of you. You didn’t let him pressure you into doing something you didn’t want to do.”
Of course Sophie assumed what happened, she wasn’t stupid. “I know I did the right thing, but what I mean is that Mike is a celebrity. He deserves a girl who can give him what he wants where and whenever he pleases. I can’t give him that, you know it.”
Her eyes turned serious. “Sam, that’s not your fault.” She took my hand and squeezed it.
It was though, I had it coming. But even so, I answered, “I know.” Because deep down, I knew that while I was guilty for some things in my past, I was a victim too. I was a victim of a terrible trauma and I hadn’t gotten over it in four years.
I dug into my cereal, concentrating my thoughts on one thing only: raisin bran. Bless food, it could heal anything.
Sophie’s phone rang, and she quickly brought it up to her ear. “Hey.” She said, shooting a worried glance at me. “Yeah, she’s awake.” I looked up. Why was she talking about me? “I don’t know if that’s a good idea yet.” She chewed her lip. What’s not a good idea? “I—I’ll talk to her. But don’t expect much.” Was it Mike? Oh shit, no way. “Yeah, okay. Bye.” She hung up and took a casual sip of her coffee.
“What was that all about?” I asked, although I think I already knew.
She sighed. “Mike wants to come over. He wants to talk to you.”
My heart tightened painfully. I shook my head. “No, I don’t want to see him.”
Sophie frowned. “He sounded really worried. Maybe you should talk to him.”
“No Sophie, you know what always happens after this kind of thing. Empty words and broken promises.” I closed my eyes. “It’s been four years. I can’t do it again.”
Oh, but she was not done yet. “Sam, I talked to Tony this morning. He says Mike is really beating himself up for this.” I didn’t think so. “You know all the others never called. Mike is calling. He cares. Maybe he isn’t like the rest.”
That was crap. He was a guy, it was in his nature. “Sophie, please. At least give me a couple of days.”
Sophie sighed but eventually agreed. She took out her cell and started texting, to Mike I suppose.
I washed my empty cereal bowl, and shut myself in my room. Stereo blasting, paintbrush in hand, I continued working on the project that would soon be the next A in my grades.

++MIKE’S POV++
I sat in Starbucks, Monday morning, waiting for her to come. I held two vanilla cappuccinos in my hands, expecting her to come in any moment.
Why did I always have to screw things up? I finally found this great, amazingly sweet and gorgeous girl who seemed to really like me for the person I was, and I completely fucked up. Three cheers for my idiocy.
I tapped my fingers nervously on the flat surface of the table, impatient. God, I needed to see her.
What was happening to me? Since the first day I saw her, I couldn’t get her out of my head. I felt something real happening between us. When she smiled, I felt content. When we kissed—dear God—when we kissed, I went crazy. This has never happened to me before, and now I screwed things up. Maybe forever.
Just as I was about to give up and leave, she walked in. Messy hair bun, paint splattered clothes, old vans shoes. She looked gorgeous.
Her eyes fell on me, and she stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes grew wide, and I noticed how puffy and red they were. It felt like a knife in the gut, watching her like this.
“Hey.” I said. All of my usual confidence with her was gone.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice sounded strained and small, it killed me.
“I have to talk to you.” I said. I held up the two vanilla cappuccinos in my hands. “I got you covered.”
She hesitated at first, but eventually came over and sat across me. Her hands reached out for one of the cups and she took a small, shy sip. “What about?” she eventually asked.
About how I royally screwed up Friday night, about how I was a complete hot headed jerk. “Sam, I was really drunk, I’m sorry I came up on you like that.” I started. “If I was sober, it would’ve never happened, I swear. It’s not about sex with you okay? I really like you, as in like you.” I fisted my hands, desperate to find the right words. “I haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time, and the least I wanted to do was screw this up, but I did. I’m sorry. Please forgive me, you have no idea how awful I feel.” I took a deep breath, composing myself. “It won’t happen again, I promise. We don’t have to rush into anything.” I spoke as if we were together, as if we were a couple, when we’d barely gone on two dates. But I felt like I knew her already, I felt like she was a part of me.
Sam gave me the saddest smile in the world. She reached out and took my hand. “That means a lot Mike, and I forgive you.” My heart warmed, my body tingled in happiness. “But I know what happens from here on, and I don’t want to go down that road again.” She bit her lip, looking down. All my happiness vanished. Where was she going with this? “I can’t give you what you want, and I understand that. You have needs, and I can’t provide. You’re not obligated to stick with me because you feel bad about that night. You are an amazing guy, and you deserve to be happy.” Her voice cracked. “And you can’t be that with me.”
Why was she saying this? “Sam, what are you talking about?” what did she mean with ´what happens from here on´. Was this some sort of a game?
She sighed heavily. “Just trust me Mike. I’m no good for you.” How would she know? I knew what was good for me, and that was her. I wanted her. So badly.
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth.” She squeezed my hand and got up. No, she couldn’t leave! “I have to go Mike, but thank you for the coffee, and for everything else. You really made these two weeks special for me.” She started turning around but I stopped her.
“Wait, Sam.” I blurted. “I’m leaving for a European tour on Wednesday. Can I—“ I swallowed, composing the tone of my voice. “Can I call you? When I get back?” maybe by the time the tour was over she was more willing to listen to me. To forgive me. Yes, maybe she needed time. I could give her that.
But apparently, she didn’t think the same way I did. “Goodbye Mike.” Was all she said as she turned around and left, leaving me emptier than I have been in a long, long time.

Notes

IT'S THREE THIRTY IN THE MORNING AGAIN. I MUST SLEEP.

Oh this story is getting tragic!! Why is Sam so uptight about this thing? What are Sophie and her referring to with ´the past´´the others´. Curious? Subscribe and you'll find out soon!

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