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THE SIMP

Tittle: The Simp by Rhoda Andrian. Everyone has a story to tell: like how you fell off your bike in third grade, or how you failed a math test and got grounded for a week. I also have a story to tell. Mine may not be about failed tests or my mother calling me a nuisance right when I hit puberty. Mine delves deeper into the realms of the heart—a story of love, pain, ache, and change. A story with an indeterminate future, but one I speculate will be formidable and, without a doubt, fruitful. But the question is, can an imperfect past pave the way for a perfect future? Then Hayzen knew her name, he did. He knew so well, she loved milkshakes and enjoyed cleaning on weekends. He noticed she had friends but seldom had any male companions, which he quite cherished. As an observer, he was drawn into a carousel of pursuit. Thus, what started as an innocent fascination soon became his beautiful mistake, his aching dread, and his fearful endeavor. What becomes of him? Now Five years later, Hayzen has grown into the man he once dreamed of being. He works at a prestigious hospital he once only imagined, located near the shores of the Pacific Ocean in San Francisco. Yet, his past continues to cast shadows on his future. The beautiful mistake and aching dread of his youth still haunt him. His embrace of nonchalance, his fear of emotional vulnerability, and his yearning to feel again create a profound inner conflict. Can he love again? Can the beautiful mistake become the most beautiful blessing? And can he finally accept the vulnerability that comes with love?

Rhoda_Andrian · Urban
Not enough ratings
70 Chs

CHAPTER 54: NOW

After leaving Kate's damned hotel room, I walked straight to my car. Expecting to start it off quickly, I realized I couldn't. There was a lot on my mind. Quite a lot… and most of it was what Kate had just told me.

"Help me, you helped us out…" The words rang in my mind clearly. They now seemed to sing, with each letter of each word agape and big in my brain.

'What did I do to deserve this?' I questioned myself as I sat in the driver's seat, my head resting on the topmost part of the seat, and my eyes closed. If anyone were in my position, they would not hesitate to make the statement 'fear women' a thousand times. But I was not in the mood for generalization at the moment. However, I felt I deserved to know. I did deserve to know whatever they wanted to do with me. I mean, I deserved to know their little plan. At least! Did she even really love me? Did she, God?

After the thoughts, I started the engine and headed outside the hotel to the now dark and almost empty tarmac. My mind was unprejudiced thinking of having a drink and heading home. I had drinks at home, so most probably, I would just head home and have a cold beer as I contemplated my next plan in life. What plan anyway? My most accustomed plans were never mine to answer; what I mean is, my plans, that is my son, whom I thought was some sort of mistake, were actually a planned deed that I was not a part of. But isn't that actually robbing someone? Who the hell does something like that to someone? Let's be really honest, y'know...

My way back home was a little lengthy; I did not expect I had driven very far. Maybe it is because St. Francis had somehow reduced the distance.

After an hour and some minutes, I arrived. It was now 10:30 PM. I used the elevator quickly, and then directed myself to my apartment. The lights were still on, so I believed Aaliyah was inside. At least for once, she would be happy I was home. However, I still kept in mind that she had a boyfriend. But I knew, as all men do, that a boyfriend is different from a husband. A boyfriend is just a boyfriend.

I knocked on the door a little, but there was no answer. So, I took out my spare key and opened it. I slightly pushed the door and was met with some male boots, and a cold chill of pain and surprise ran through me. I did not make any sound, as I quietly closed the door, removed my shoes, and headed inside the living room. There was no one inside, so I sat there a little bit. I was not wearing a tie, and I had on my black hoodie. I slightly ran my hand through my now slightly thickly grown hair, telling myself I needed a cut.

Then, I heard the front door open, and I did not even want to know who it was. I had heard enough for the day, and I was not ready to deal with anything else. If she had her goddamn boyfriend, God knows how I would react, but for real, it would be disrespectful of her to bring him into this house. This is not even her apartment, for crying out loud.

"Hayzen!.." The voice called behind me. I had already laid my head down and rested my legs on the sofa. I think if she hadn't called me, I would have already fallen asleep. I don't know why I was feeling jaded. I believe it is not tiredness; it is an explanation of being under constant stress. The stress you just cannot open up to anyone. I think sometimes women are lucky. They always have a friend to just tell everything to, and then there is me, who bottles up everything until it is hard to even breathe and walk. I just choose to fix everything rather than let someone else know what I am going through.

"Hey..," I stated as I now sat upright to look at Aaliyah, only to see her with her boring boyfriend. I wanted to speak, but I did not know what to say. So, I just stood up, went to the kitchen fridge, took out some whiskey, and returned to the living room, telling them to sit down.

"Larry was just leaving," she started.

"Why so fast?" I questioned.

"I need to go," the boy stated.

"Okay," I replied. I did not want him here anyway. My blood might boil, and the next thing I would do is maybe beat him or do something else.

"I will say my goodbyes," Aaliyah said in a soft, almost whispering voice. It was like she was telling me that from the bottom of her soul, and I just looked at her and nodded. I had had enough for the day. I needed not stress myself about Aaliyah, but as she took him to the door, I found myself, after a few minutes, heading to the kitchen, which was in the same hallway to the door, just to see if she would kiss him or anything. She did not. She just gave him a hug, and he left. 'Fucking pervert,' I found myself cursing under my breath, as I smiled at Aaliyah's little act towards the man. Which boyfriend would allow their girlfriend to live with another man? I wonder what Aaliyah had told him to convince him to accept her staying here.

After he left and I heard Aaliyah lock the door, I took two glasses for drinking the whiskey and headed to the living room, to the same random sofa that I was resting on earlier.

"Do you like him that little?" I questioned as Aaliyah sat opposite me.

"Why?" she asked as she took out her phone and started scrolling around it.

"Need some?" I asked, and before she could even answer, I poured a drink (whiskey) for her. "Today has been bad!" I added, and caught my mouth before I could say anything else. Why did I? Why did Aaliyah somehow make me open up?

"How bad?" she asked, as she took a sip and shook her head vigorously, from the burning of the whiskey, which made me laugh.

"You don't have to take it," I stated, but she just looked at me. I knew there were almost two questions she had asked that I hadn't answered. So, knowing that answering the latter would bring a lot of conversations and opening up—especially knowing that it was already night, and at night the body is tired and the mind seems to just say anything—I decided to answer the "why" question.

"You didn't give your boyfriend a goodbye kiss," I finished, and my eyes lingered on the whiskey as they welled up. I don't know why they were welling up; maybe it was because it was a little weird asking her such a question.

"Did you want me to?" she questioned, and I straight up looked at her. Her glass was already halfway done, while I hadn't touched mine. Was she that much of a drinker, or was she nervous?

"No…," I steadily replied, being honest with her. To have her, I needed to be honest.

Raising her left eyebrow, she added, "We had a break, we just linked up."

"You two had a break? What about whatever you told me about the party, you two meeting at the party?"

"Can we not talk about this?" she stated, and for the first time, I took a sip—a very huge gulp of whiskey—and I felt it really burn my throat.

"How about we play a game," I suggested, and at once regretted why I even said it. I had a lot of things to openly state from my past, so I just dismissed my suggestion and took another gulp of whiskey.

It took me a lot of glasses to ever get drunk off whiskey. I was never a lightweight. But from how I viewed Aaliyah, I think she was already feeling the weight of the whiskey. She had barely even heard me suggest about us playing a game. She had drunk her first glass very fast, and now she was on her next.

"Do you love him?" I questioned, raising my voice a little louder.

She smiled, looking at me—a killer smile right there. It made her lips beautiful, and her little crystal-white teeth showed, greatly complementing her facial structure.

"A… are you jealous?" she questioned, eyeing me while smiling. Her eyes were really squinted, and honestly, this side of her looked outrageously attractive. I would die to see this side of her again. I was still not speaking; my eyes were on her. I just couldn't formulate the words.

"You have beautiful eyes…," I slipped out and drank some whiskey, trying to drain the embarrassment of what I had said. God! I was starting to get nervous. She was smiling at me so much that I didn't know what kind of face was plastered on mine. Was it a cute one, nervous, anxious… God! What?

"I have a boyfriend…," she added, and my expression changed. She laughed—she really did laugh. I didn't want to remember; I think her boyfriend was her world's most kept secret. "... he is not my boyfriend though; we are just friends for now."

"Just friends?" I questioned.

"Yeah."

"Friends and link-up…," of course, friends do casual sex. I bit my lower lip after saying that, so I added, "That's a relief."

Enjoy..,

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