You kidding me?

Wisteria, Capital city of Wisteria Country: 

I looked at my boyfriend, Harry Duestone, who was deep in conversation with his so-called best friend, Iris. They were leaning closer to each other, completely oblivious to my presence. Harry was the man I had accidentally said yes to for a relationship. At the time, I thought he was kidding, but he wasn't, and that's how I got myself into this mess. Now, watching them, it was clear he had forgotten all about me.

Harry's persistence had initially worn me down. I remember the night he asked me out vividly. It was during a casual gathering with friends, filled with laughter and lighthearted banter. When Harry had looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and asked if I would be his girlfriend, I thought it was just another one of his jokes. But when his smile didn't waver, and his eyes remained earnest, I realized he was serious. Not wanting to make things awkward in front of everyone, I laughed and said yes, thinking he was still joking. But he wasn't, and from that moment on, I found myself in a relationship I never intended to be in.

In the beginning, Harry seemed sincere, showering me with attention and making grand gestures. However, it didn't take long for his true nature to emerge. He became increasingly distant, often engrossed in conversations with Iris while I stood by, feeling invisible. The final straw came when I saw him making out with Iris. My heart sank, but I didn't confront him immediately. Instead, I stood there, seething with anger and frustration.

I wanted to break up with Harry, but every time I mustered the courage, he would do something to make me hesitate. His sweet words and fleeting moments of affection confused me, making me doubt my resolve. However, seeing him with Iris confirmed my worst fears. As I stood there, contemplating my next move, someone called me from behind. I turned to see Harry's maid, her face etched with concern.

"Do you need something?" I asked her, my voice strained.

She was about to respond when I saw Harry and Iris approaching. They were walking towards me, both dressed neatly and looking as if nothing had happened between them. Their nonchalant demeanor was infuriating. It was as if they had no regard for my feelings. At that moment, I decided my main mission was to break up with Harry and never get involved in a mess called a relationship ever again.

I walked towards the balcony, seeking solace in the tranquil night. The moon hung high in the sky, casting a gentle glow over everything. The serenity of the night was a stark contrast to the turmoil inside me. I stood there, admiring the beauty of the moonlit sky, trying to calm my racing thoughts. A slow song played in the background, and before I knew it, I started to sing along softly, the words just escaping my lips: "I thought about you…"

Then I heard footsteps behind me, followed by a rough voice. "Thought about who?"

Startled, I turned back and saw a man wearing a mask. He was tall, over six feet, with dark eyes and wheatish skin. He stood there, looking like he had stepped straight out of an anime. A playful thought crossed my mind, and I replied immediately, "You."

He looked quite startled. "Really?" he asked, uncertainty lacing his voice.

I nodded eagerly. "Yes."

He hesitated for a moment before asking, "What do you want me to do?"

This was my turn to go speechless. This was an unexpected reply. To buy myself some time, I rattled off some extravagant desires. "Oh, alright, then buy me a private jet, a cruise, or maybe an apartment in New York?"

He looked at me as if I were joking. "You kidding me?"

I shook my head. "I am not."

He glanced at the moonlight before his gaze settled back on me. "Well, maybe one day I will buy you everything, but for now, how about clothes and shoes?"

I laughed, looking at his serious eyes through his mask, he couldn't be serious right? "Calm down, I was just kidding you."

He looked at me intently. "But I am not."

His seriousness took me by surprise. I studied him for a moment before asking, "Can I see you?" I thought he would want to hide his face and run away before I actually asked him to buy me clothes and shoes as he had just promised. But to my surprise, he calmly removed his mask.

Beneath the mask was a face that was striking in its own way. He had sharp eyes, a slim and tall nose, and rosy lips that matched my own in their natural color. His short hair framed his face perfectly, giving him an aura of quiet strength. He wasn't conventionally handsome, but there was something compelling about his presence, his aura and an inexplicable vibe that drew me in.

"You look good," I complimented him.

A slight blush appeared on his cheeks. "Thank you," he replied softly.

I laughed, a genuine laugh that felt good after the tension of the evening. "What's your name?" I asked after a moment.

"Karim," he replied.

I nodded. "Nice to meet you, Karim."

He asked back, "What's your name?"

My mind took a mischievous turn, and I said, "Princess."

He nodded, playing along. "Nice to meet you, Princess."

"Nice to meet you too," I replied.

Before I could say anything more, I saw Harry coming towards us. My moment of escape was over. "Goodbye, Karim," I said softly, hoping I would see him again.

"Goodbye, Princess," he replied with a smile.

As Harry approached, I turned to face him, my resolve strengthened. This was the beginning of the end for us, and I was ready to reclaim my life.

The next morning, I woke up with a sense of determination. I couldn't keep living this lie, pretending to be happy in a relationship that was suffocating me. Harry's betrayal with Iris was the final straw, and I knew I had to break free.

I spent the day planning my exit strategy. It wasn't just about ending things with Harry; it was about reclaiming my life and my happiness. I made a list of things I needed to do: find a new place to live, gather my belongings, and have a straightforward conversation with Harry. It wouldn't be easy, but it was necessary.

As the day turned into evening, I found myself back on the balcony, the similar place where I had encountered the stranger man. The moon was full tonight, casting an even brighter glow over the landscape. I leaned against the railing, taking in the serene beauty of the night, and felt a sense of calm wash over me.

A soft voice interrupted my thoughts. "You look deep in thought, Kristen."

I turned around, half-expecting to see Karim again. Instead, it was Harry, looking unusually serious. He stepped closer, his expression unreadable. "We need to talk," he said.

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. "What do you want to talk about?"

We moved to a quieter corner of the balcony. Harry took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity I hadn't seen before.

"Why are you being so distant lately?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of concern and frustration.

The nerve to ask me why I was distant? I held back my frustration and let him continue. I had been avoiding this conversation for weeks, hoping the distance would speak for itself. But Harry, persistent as ever, had cornered me into confronting the issue head-on.

I looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "I need some space," I muttered, barely audible over the noise of the party.

"Why?" he pressed, his voice softer but no less insistent.

A surge of emotions welled up inside me. I wanted to scream, to tell him that his presence was suffocating me, that every interaction felt like a performance I no longer wanted to give. I wanted to ask him why he was even here, why he wasn't with Iris, the person he seemed to spend most of his time with these days. But no words came out of my mouth. I felt a lump in my throat, choking back the torrent of feelings I had bottled up.

Instead, I managed to say, "Please," my voice breaking.

Harry's expression softened slightly, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. He nodded, accepting my plea without further question. The silence between us was heavy, laden with unspoken words and unresolved tension. He didn't say anything more; he just turned and walked away.

I watched him go, his figure retreating down the driveway until he got into his car and drove off. The sound of the engine starting was the final note of our strained conversation, a punctuation mark to the emotional turmoil that had been building inside me.

As I stood on the balcony, my legs began to tremble. The weight of the confrontation, the emotional exhaustion, was too much to bear. My knees gave way, and I knelt down, clutching the railing for support. A wave of suffocation hit me, constricting my chest and making it hard to breathe. The reality of the situation, the unresolved feelings and the pressure of maintaining a facade, all came crashing down at once.

I took deep breaths, trying to steady myself. The cool air did little to alleviate the tightness in my chest. I felt trapped, not just by the physical confines of the balcony, but by the emotional labyrinth I found myself in. The sun above seemed indifferent to my plight, shining in distant, eternal dance.

In that moment, I realized that something had to change. The distance I craved wasn't just physical space from Harry, but an emotional detachment from the tangled web of our relationship. I needed to find a way to breathe freely again, to reclaim my sense of self that had been overshadowed by the complexities of our interactions.