This was the end of a normal social life for me.
“Where did you get this?” I waved the paper at Damien’s face, not quite believing its contents.
“The drug store. You’re all over the place.”
How long before one of my chatty colleagues sells me out to the newspaper, or until those pesky paparazzi manage to track me down? The Crawford brothers! No wonder they seemed so familiar this morning—those wealthy heirs to the Crawford Enterprise; that old, established company that dealt with property, casinos, and everything of the like. They dabbled into acting and modelling as teenagers—not much, as they only took it as a sport—and their attractive looks combined with their fortune propelled them to fame.
Why didn’t I recognize them?
I knew they were rich because I found myself walking out of a five-star hotel suite, but not in this way. I hardly kept up with celebrity gossip, so I didn’t pay attention to them… until now.
I swore to myself to never get drunk again, except for maybe tonight because I really needed a shot of alcohol. I passed the paper back to Damien and was about to shut the door on his face when he grabbed my arm.
“You’re not going anywhere without at least giving me a proper explanation.”
“I don’t owe you one. We broke up yesterday. Remember?”
“I didn’t know I was dating such a slut,” he said under his breath.
That was when he crossed the line. “Me? A slut? You were the one I found sleeping with that… that slut in my bed!”
His demeanor suddenly did a flip and changed after I brought that up. “I came here to apologize. I want you back, please.”
My ears must have been playing a joke on me. Do such ridiculous people really exist? “Are you an idiot?”
He shook his head. “No, after you left me yesterday I realized how much I love you. I need you back in my life. See, I even bought this ring to prove it.” He wasn’t serious, was he? I didn’t know whether to laugh or slap him with all my rage when he knelt down, pulled out a ring, and said, “Will you marry me?”
“Go f**k yourself.” I slammed the door on his face and locked it before he stopped me. It took a while for him to understand what had happened, as shown through the brief silence, but once he did, he made sure to make his displeasure known.
The knock on the door came quickly. “Please, babe, talk to me.”
“Go away, Damien. You’re being a pain in my as**s.”
“I realize my mistake, okay? It’s just that I’ve known her since high school, and she’s hot, and I had a few drinks…”
I scrunched up my nose in disgust. “Don’t give me that. You definitely weren’t drunk.” He still dared to talk about how ‘hot’ she was?
“I’m not leaving until you come out.”
“Fine with me. Stay there then.”
I took my phone out and browsed it to see if I had any nice music to distract me. That was when I saw ’15 missed calls’—twelve from my parents and three from my best friend.
This was going to be one heck of a morning.
***
Damien had left sometime during my three-hour long conversation with my father, as expected. Some foolish part of me had faith in him, thinking that he’d actually stay and wait. However, when I opened the door to find the corridor quiet and empty, I was not the least bit surprised or disappointed.
My weekend ended up becoming a sleepless nightmare. The talk with my parents about how my inappropriate behavior disgraced them, coupled with myself being on the news—I told myself not to check, but curiosity got the better of me—left me restlessly tossing in bed through the last two nights.
I had concealer caked all over my face. Panda bear circles had formed under my eyes, so I put on my makeup extra thick today.
Why couldn’t I have a simple one-night stand and run off with some poor, drunk ordinary guy who wouldn’t end up on the newspaper? Instead, I found myself sleeping with both of the Crawford brothers and having my face plastered on every gossip magazine in town.
To top it off, I left my wallet at their place, so I had to take the subway instead of a taxi because I didn’t have enough money. This was the first time I dreaded showing my face in public.
I was all prepped and ready to go until I opened my door.
A horde of paparazzi waited at the front step of my apartment. They came to life when they saw me like a mass of zombies. A bunch of cameras flashed, almost blinding me, and it didn’t take long for them to send me a flurry of insulting questions.
Five seconds later, I had my door closed behind my back and no solution to get past the man-eating paparazzi outside.
Maybe I should call in sick today.