Someone Out There Loves You

*Chloe POV*

“Chloe, please don’t be like this. I know you’re still angry, but it’s our last night living together. Is this really how you want to remember our last night as roommates?”
Andrea was pleading with me, yet again. It was Friday night, which also happened to be our last night living in the apartment we’d occupied for what seemed like forever. They were moving in with their boyfriends, while I was getting my own apartment in the same building, but I was taking a two bedroom apartment a couple of floors down. It was only costing me slightly more rent-wise, since the new apartment was a lot smaller, and I would have the luxury of my own space. There had been a one bedroom place available as well, but I’d decided to be cautious, on the off chance I decided that I missed having a roommate. I couldn’t see it happening, since I was probably the most anti-social person in existence, but stranger things had happened. Anyway, it would be nice to have the extra space, in case anyone ever needed a place to stay, or my parents came to visit. I was in the kitchen, fixing myself a glass of wine and pretending to ignore Andrea’s big doe eyes, and Macy’s irritated glare from the sitting room, where ‘ Crazy, Stupid, Love’ was playing on the DVD player. I hadn’t talked to Andrea since I had confronted her over her trying to pay Gerard to sleep with me. I believed him, and Andrea, when they said no money had been exchanged, which had helped ease the anger I felt towards the two of them. However, Andrea had yet to admit that what she had done was out of order, so I was still refusing to talk to her. Yes, I knew it was childish, and probably a bit harsh when I knew she meant no real malice behind it, but I wasn’t going to let her get away with it without her acknowledging that it was a shitty thing to do to her friend. I had waited to see if she would realise what my problem was, but for someone who was so highly educated and intelligent, she really had difficulty when it came to admitting she was in the wrong. She was right about one thing, though; this wasn’t how I wanted our last night together to be. I decided to give her a little nudge in the right direction, or a big fucking shove, depending on your point of view.
“You know, maybe if you would just say that you're sorry, instead of justifying what you did, I wouldn’t be so pissed at you,” I arched an eyebrow at her challengingly, curious to see if she would be as offended as I imagined. I was right; her face fell, with a slightly unpleasant curve to her lips.
“C’mon, Chloe, it’s not-“
“For fuck's sake, Andrea, just say you’re sorry, and get it over and done with. Ryan Gosling is taking off his shirt, and the two of you yapping is distracting me.”
Andrea sighed, defeated and tired.
“Fine. Chloe, I’m sorry for trying to hire a good looking, amazing, sexy and well hung guy to screw your brains out. I’m a horrible friend, andacted terribly.”
The sarcasm was heavy, but I ignored it, and took her words at face value.
“Apology accepted.”
I walked out of the kitchen, wine glass in hand and, a smug look plastered on my face. I sat down beside Macy without a word, getting right into admiring Ryan Gosling’s amazing abs on the screen.
The next day was a drag. I had spent most of the day packing, moving and unpacking. I didn’t own a lot, or at least I didn’t think I did, until I had to lug it around. Or well, some of it. Gary (Andre’s boyfriend) had been nice enough to carry some of the bigger boxes for me before the moving van came for Andrea’s stuff. I thought it would only take me an hour to get everything out of their boxes and put away, but I realised that I actually had to buy some stuff; like pots, pans and other little knick knacks to get the place looking a bit more like home. So, it was with heavy feet, and a slight headache, that I forced myself to go out the nearest Wallmart, where I got everything I needed. I didn’t mind browsing the store too much when I got there. I actually kind of enjoyed it, picking out the things that I liked without consideration for other people’s taste. It was strange, having autonomy over the look of the apartment. I could cover the walls in Star Wars posters, leave my shit lying around the place for days on end, and put whatever other ‘geeky’ stuff I wanted out on display. I just picked up a few lamps for the sitting room and bedroom, pots and pans, so I could cook for myself, a coffee maker for my morning caffeine hit, and a few photo frames and generic photographs, and paintings to hang up and display, so the apartment wasn’t so bare looking. My wandering eye kept me in the store for two hours, and put a dent in my bank balance when I finally left. It then took me another few hours to get everything in its final place, and by the time it was seven o’clock, I was exhausted by all the strenuous physical activities of the day. All I wanted was to curl up on the couch and sleep the evening away, but I knew I wouldn’t sleep past three a.m, and then I’d be up for the rest of night. I knew I needed coffee to perk me up for just a little longer, even just until ten o’clock, so that I’d sleep until a reasonable hour. I was afraid of sitting down, very aware that I would only doze off the minute my ass hit the couch, even with a steaming cup of coffee in my hands. I had no roommates to keep me up with their incessant chattering now, so it was up to me to find another way to stay awake. I eventually settled on going out for a walk, and grabbing a coffee on my travels. The fresh air and caffeine would be a good combination to keep me going, for a few hours at least. I double-checked I had my keys, suddenly afraid of leaving them behind, now that there would be nobody else to let me in, and shut the door behind me.
I took a familiar path to the closest Starbucks, with no thoughts other than what kind of coffee to choose. Should I go hardcore with a black Americano, or go hipster with whatever flavoured frappuccino I saw first on the board. It was a difficult choice; the Americano would definitely do the job of keeping me awake, especially if I asked for an extra shot of espresso in it. On the other hand, I was craving something slightly sweet, and since sweets were my enemy, frappuccinos would be a good second choice. Life could be full of difficult questions sometimes, and this was one of them. When I finally stepped inside the coffee lovers' paradise, I was still no closer to my decision, which I supposed was down to my indecisive nature when it came to choosing food and drink. There was always a nicer, more tempting offer, which would clog my arteries or erode my teeth, but, by God, was it so much nicer to have. In order to lose weight, I had learned to stop seeing choices, when it came to stuff like that, and only see the healthier option. Normally, I was quite good at sticking to it, but I was tired and out of sorts, and the healthier, less sugary and less fattening Americano just didn’t seem as comforting as the creamy, delicious caramel frappuccino. I was okay to have a treat every once in a while, or at least that’s what I was telling myself. I’d go for a jog the next day to make up for it. A jog would cancel out the sugar overload. I ordered my venti frappuccino, only feeling a little bit of guilt under the impending gratification I was about to receive.
“You know, I’m starting to wonder if you’re following me.”
I recognised that voice instantly. There was no way I could forget it. It had been in my mind more often than I cared to admit, along with an image of his pretty face. I felt a shiver run up my spine, a mix of excitement and fear. I looked around, and there Gerard was, in all his glory. The ever present smirk was there, of course, though his hazel eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. He wasn’t as dressed up this time, though, wearing a casual blue zip-up hoody and a pair of loose jeans. He was pretty…ordinary, when he wasn’t wearing the tightest jeans ever made and dressy shirts. He obviously wasn’t working, or maybe he was just finished for the day. I found myself wondering what it was he did when he wasn’t going from woman to woman, screwing their brains, and their wallets. Honestly, I wouldn’t have even looked twice at him if I didn’t know who, and what, he was. Nobody was gawking at him, or blushing at the sight of him in his jeans that left nothing to the imagination. He was far less intimidating like this, and I didn’t feel like such an unattractive slob standing next to him.
“I think it’s the other way around. It’s getting a little creepy at this stage.” I retorted, feeling more confident now, or maybe just comfortable, either was possible.
“Is this civil conversation I hear? Hell does freeze over.”
I was about to snap, ready to tear him down with vicious words, when I saw the smirk on his face. I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped me as embarrassment sneaked its way to my cheeks, flushing them with colour. I was too easy to rile up, something that would appeal to a person who lived by their baser instincts, like Gerard. He enjoyed getting a reaction out of me, and it was about time I stopped giving it to him.
“Strangers things have happened,” I reply coolly.
“Indeed. Is your friend still alive after you got your kitty claws into her?” he teased, not letting go of his favourite pastime that easily.
I couldn’t help myself, I really couldn’t, “Afraid you might lose a potential client?”
“You know me so well.”
His smirk never faltered, even when the conversation was interrupted by the barista who handed him his coffee. I could see my frappuccino was still being made, though it was almost ready.
“So,” he turned to face me, lifting his glasses from his eyes to sit on top of his head, pushing his hair back in the process, “What are you doing this fine Saturday evening?”
“Getting acquainted with my new couch, in my new apartment, by spazzing out on it for the night. Moving’s a bitch.”
“Want some company?”
I shouldn’t have been surprised by how straightforward he was; it was nothing new. It still caught me off guard, though, making me feel a little flustered. I wasn’t sure what kind of ‘company’ he meant. He had mentioned something about hanging out before, surely that’s all he meant now. He could see the conflict on my face, and let out a little giggle.
“ Nothing untoward, I promise. You’ve got that special edition The Dark Night Rises, right?”
“Of course I do. Who wouldn’t?”
“Me.”
“How sad,” I mocked, grabbing my frappuccino, “As a Batman fan, I simply couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t force you to watch it with me. Try anything, and you’re dead, though.” I warned with narrowed eyes before leading the way out of the shop.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you think I’m a man whore.”
“You said it, not me,” I shrugged, taking a sip of my delicious coffee, and deciding it was so worth the empty calories.

Notes

Hey guys,

hope you're all still enjoying this. Things will start picking up in a chapter or two, I promise!

Lyra