on repeat

"and fellas, this will be the last time you see me. I will be on my way to supermodel matrimony."

This caught us by surprise. He's said plenty of ridiculous things before but never this firm. This whole idea, marrying a girl who's hung on his wall for god knows how long now, would have sounded ridiculous if not for the steel in his eyes. He's only just said it, but we knew. We werent ever seeing him again.

'That was quick'

No one was going to say it, but that boy, in his insanity, had revealed to ourselves who we really were. He had decided, cut all ties with us, and left. We were still here, stewing in this cloud of smoke, as we were yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that.

Later, faces filled with feigned nonchalance, we left for our homes. I could not stop thinking of that strange incident. It didn't matter to me, I never liked the guy, but everything he said just stuck, and it kept coming back, over and over again.

I looked at myself in the mirror.

Here I was again, in this humid apartment with peeling paint. I hate this place. I've hated this place since the first week I was here, but here I am, thinking to myself again, I hate this place.

I had little sleep that night. I noticed everything, the spots on the ceiling, purid scent wafting in the air, condensation rolling down the window like sweat; everything, same.

I was going to lie here, again, tomorrow. And the day after.

I hope he comes back