Chapter 1 Same Old Heartache
Blazing sounds force me awake, slicing through the remnants of my dreams like a knife. I groggily reach for my cell phone, my heart sinking as reality hits. Fuck, today marks the start of hell again.
I glance around my disheveled room, the clutter reflecting the chaos in my mind. My eyes fall on the picture frame on my side table, and before I can stop myself, I reach for it. My gaze lingers on the face that stares back at me, pulling me into a whirlpool of emotions.
It’s a photo of us-taken almost six months ago, on a sunny afternoon at the park. My smile in the picture is wide, genuine, stretching from ear to ear. His arms are wrapped snugly around my waist, pulling me close like he never wanted to let go. The warmth of that moment washes over me, a stark contrast to the cold reality of this morning.
I breathe deeply, tracing his face with my finger as if somehow I could bring back that fleeting happiness. His blue eyes glisten in the photo, brimming with the familiar mischief and kindness that always made me feel safe.
His dark brown hair, nearly brushing his shoulders, is something he loved teasing me about. “My hair’s prettier than yours,” he’d say with a smirk, playfully flicking his locks. I can almost hear his voice now. His prominent jawline and aristocratic nose gave him a look of quiet confidence, especially when he wore his reading glasses. That air of sophistication always made my heart skip a beat.
Then, there are his lips-plump and red, the same lips that used to drive me wild. I bite my own lip at the memory of how they felt against mine. What am I thinking? I shake my head, banishing the thought, and force myself out of bed, dragging my body to the bathroom.
As I rinse my face, the image of him still lingers behind my closed eyelids.
“Morning, Arwen! What’ll it be-coffee or hot chocolate?” Nicholas’s voice snaps me back to the present. I catch the scent of fresh bread and butter as I enter the kitchen, grateful for the normalcy of our morning routine.
“Coffee, brother dear,” I reply, forcing a small smile. His cheerfulness is a balm to my foggy mind.
On my way to my locker, I spot my best friend Joshua with his boyfriend Leroy. They’re laughing together, and just seeing them lifts my spirits. I wave, a genuine smile breaking across my face for the first time this morning.
“Hey, Arwen! How was your weekend?” Joshua’s voice is warm, his bright eyes filled with curiosity as he leans in to kiss me on both cheeks. Leroy stands beside him, grinning as he playfully blows me a kiss.
“It was... refreshing,” I lie, masking the heaviness in my chest with a practiced smile as I open my locker. The metallic click of the lock grounds me in the moment, a small reminder that life goes on, even when you’re not sure how.
Joshua’s eyes light up at my response.
“Well, that’s good news!” His excitement is infectious, making me almost believe my own words.
I’m in my third year, majoring in Psychology, the same as Leroy. Joshua, on the other hand, is deep in his Economics program, which often leads to heated but friendly debates between the three of us.
Leroy tilts his head, his eyes soft with concern. “How are you, babe?” His tone is gentle, genuine.
Leroy and Joshua are opposites, yet they fit so perfectly. I’d had a tiny crush on Leroy at first, and who could blame me? He’s tall, almost six feet, with a well-built frame sculpted by his years competing in archery for our university. With his shoulder-length dark blonde hair and piercing gaze, it’s no wonder Joshua fell for him so hard.
“I’m okay,” I say, the words tasting hollow as I force another smile.
We head to class together, side by side. My heart feels heavy, caught between anticipation for the day ahead and the lingering shadows of the past. Even as the familiar chaos of school surrounds me, my thoughts keep circling back to the memories I can’t seem to let go of.
