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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?

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70 Chs

CHAPTER 1 (NOW)

The skies were gray; there was not even a twinkle from the singlest star. It was cold, and the wind blew as if it were accustomed to the greatness of anger. It was night; everyone was asleep, but I just lay on this empty sofa, watching the dark night that lay under and above the street lights.

Quiet music sang in the background; my thoughts barely noticed it either way.

The room was dirty; it had been days and weeks since I found time to clean this crib. It now felt like a bachelor's, I'd say. Not to mean bachelors are dirty; am sorry.

The room had all types of alcohol, some empty, others half empty. I just bought them on my way to,... on my way to the apartment..., from my overly demanding job.

The whisky on my hand was barely hanging there; its weight too much for my intoxicated and shaking fingers and hand. My eyes barely even in vision of it, so I just let the glass slide down, and in a thud, I watched it break into pieces as the liquids inside followed.., and the floor was embraced.

The floor was dirty anyway; it never mattered.

'My phone' I thought,

'in the charger' I remembered, and I hung around, letting my hands help me, using the coach and the table as support, as I reached the extension that placed the charger.., the only thing placing life onto my phone.

And I sat next to the extension; the large television set above me. I hated seeing this large screen; it reminded me of my worst nightmare, and it had took me all my strengths not to crash it before.

I knew later, I will say I was losing it, maybe,

but now I just watched my phone; it was barely 12%; I barely charged it anyway; but I still pressed on it, as it made its I-phone ringing style and asked me for the passwords and all that.

I knew why I switched it on; I knew, of course, why. Oh God, I knew exactly why, and the first place I headed to was the messages; maybe someone had looked for me.., it was end month of course.

'Marilyn voice mail message' she never gave up to call me, doesn't she?

It was always something to do with work.., damn work!; she was the medical-surgical nurse, and I was a cardiologist, just specified on that. I took my work seriously; it was the only thing that kept me breathing,

But anyway.., my job never aligned to my current heart status.., I was barely hanging around.

So, after listening to the voicemail, I straight away switched to my WhatsApp messenger; maybe what I wanted would be there. I hoped a text would pop; at least I miss you or something. It had been years since I heard from her..., Luke sort out everything.., Luke just did.

I know, I know it had been years; I had already finished my degree, specializing in everything we had planned for, but all I was left with was this paper to remind me of our memories and the empty room in my heart that we once shared. I hated remembering this.

I honestly hated remembering all this, this feeling.., the feeling of losing and lose..., but it just seemed to be the only time I really felt something..., it was harder to let go.

Just to escape this lengthy state of euphoria, I lay my head down on the soft sofa. Two minutes barely even ticking off;.., my phone beeped. I hated the ringing of my phone when I drank; it just was not the most beautiful of voices. "Yeah," I stated after answering,

"Dude, you free?" It was my friend; his name was Elvis.

"Next shift tomorrow night." I stated

"Okay, some party is here. Wanna hop?" He stated. I loved parties when my mind was like this...., I had drunk many drinks; I would not drive, of course.., I just needed to lie despite knowing that I still wanted to go to the party, but anyway..,

"Can't drive." I stated,

"Okay, we are around your area," he stated.

I just sighed; he always found a way to let me out, even when I just wanted to enjoy the darkness and loneliness of this room. I do not remember the last time I really slept in it;

it was always coming to change clothes; if not changing,

I was at work the whole night; if not working,

I was with a random girl in some hotel room. 

The truth is, I hated the truth that this room made me face. It was a truth that I barely had faith in; it was a truth that I kept shying away from.

"Dude, where are you at?' The text stated.., it was Elvis. He was at the gates of these apartments.

'Coming' I replied, as I wore my black leather coat after taking a fast shower. I always made sure I took showers before heading out with friends, because one thing I surely knew was that I would never lack one girl with whom I would smash or have a liking.

However, recently, it has not been as pretty as it used to be. Just know it hasn't been pretty.

"Hope in," Elvis stated; it was heavily pouring already. Of course, I had forgotten about the bad weather. "And this party is important; behave, man. No screwing up." He added.

He was always the best friend I had. He had gotten his marine license recently and was on leave for a few days. People got into being marine officers very young; he is just twenty-three, while I am kissing my twenty-fifth year, almost twenty-six. We knew each other from significant encounters in the same bar almost every weekend, until we became buddies. It took a hella lot of time before I even got to know his name, and then I just learned the dude was Elvis, some marine. But he knew a lot about me.

I am not much of a talker though; I really am not; I am just the one who answers questions. 'How was your day?' 'Good'…, 'how was work?' 'Good'…., 'wanna go out?' 'yea'. I never knew I was this type of person until recently I checked on the texts I have had with most people. I was always the one-word stator in hell of a thousand written paragraphs..., is this change or growth? I don't know.

Elvis was making a lot of bends and turns. Hell, this was no bar party; it was more of an isolated area party. I barely went to those parties, except once when I was dragged..., dragged by a certain woma..,

Hell, do I have to relate everything to her? I found myself questioning, and I checked my phone again..., I was looking for a text, 'it was end month'.., I questioned again in my brain.

The phone was also in its ruins.., It was barely holding onto the one percentage it left; I used it up much speaking to this dude; but I liked the phone either way.., it held up its life much more than I did; I was barely even holding up; I was just living by the next day, hoping it would be beautiful and not surreal and painful, heartless and torturous, as some days made things be. The days where I made myself busy with work and helping out with things that never really included me..., and other days when work became torturous, and all I wanted is lie down and drown onto my thoughts.., but I preferred working..., I needed no depression hit me.

"We hear you, man." Elvis shouted as he parked the car in some isolated garage. It had pretty good cars, and faint music was heard. I guess it was some wood party. Maybe a high schooler was graduating or some students were hyping themselves up, some university students precisely.

"Bro, tip.., behave." He told me as he unbuckled his seat belt and started walking out. Before walking out, some women came running to him, praising him and whatever, and so I just stayed a little quiet in the car. I was in no mood to have talks with people, and I sometimes had some social anxiety, especially with new people. Even the alcohol in my streams could never help in this; the only thing it helped was winning women over. But this seemed to be a closed-off party; it seemed like a friend kind of party, and screwing a woman in a friendship meant war. I would never do such bullshit.

"Dude, you coming?" Elvis shouted to me, giving me the courage to walk out. It had already stopped raining, but all that mattered was that I left my phone in the car, as it had already lost its own life, and just walked out, steading myself. I wished not to give the impression of a drunkard to these students; they sure were students I could tell.

Of course, hanging around Elvis meant having younger women, students who just never thought much of the future, barely hanging on the next Friday night, and the next birthday celebration, in addition to making out, having sex, and doing drugs if not selling them.

Lectures were nothing but any other business, unless to the most serious of students, who knew their backgrounds well off, or whose scholarships were on line in case of any degrade of their grades. Otherwise, the rest.., enjoy.., beiiiibyyy.., it was something we used to say when I was in the university, however, learning to be a doctor was not the smoothest of roads; it was one of the roughest and toughest roads I ever had to walk through. Of course I have had my rough days, far away from the course in study; they too never made it simple for me. I seek reasons why, why they just never saw how hard I was trying, questions I alone barely know answers to.

The party was somewhere in the woods of a certain university. Everyone was having their own chilly time. Some were smoking, others were making out, and others were just playing games of shots and drinks in addition to truths and dares. Hell, I was already regretting coming here; I was old for this. These were things I found fun of maybe some years ago, but now, barely.

"Dude," Elvis came to me; of course he did when he found me, having a hard time fitting into a new crowd. "Here, come here." He dragged me into the drinking sessions. I was really drunk for the day, but adding more was no problem. I had just had some whiskey and drinks; they were just to drain away the empty feelings inside of me; they were just for that.

"Which girl looks pretty?" One of the men asked, as their disturbing girlfriends laughed in unison, as if mocking or something. They were annoying; hell, I was already getting an attitude about the place. But hearing some pretty girl be called, hell, why would I not check them out? It was either answer or take the shot; taking a shot would make me a coward, and I was a doctor who had just made one successful suicide in charge. I was proud of myself for the first time in many years.

"You said pretty?" I asked, as if seeking their reply. Of course I knew what they had stated; the alcohol was just making my mouth alter fucked-up statements.

"Yeah, man, answer or shot. Or take a shot." They stated, and I just laughed when I noticed some girl; she was just chilling with a few girls and one dude at the end of this place. What the fuck was this place anyway?

"I like that one, with some cop or scout thing, pretty, beret.. yeah., the one wearing a beret." I stated, and everyone was quiet.

"Not that one, dude." They stated, "Marine's sister," the one next to me whispered inside my ear.., not letting Elvin hear, and I knew what he meant by that, by Marine's sister. But she was cute, and I knew I would never let this slide. I liked a challenge., even though it meant the marine. The alcohol was doing things to me. This was not a good idea.

Enjoy loveliess..,

The second of many...,

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