015~ IS THERE
1638 Words
Aria
Entering the studio was like stepping into a realm of pure joy, with clapping and laughter resonating in the vibrant atmosphere. The triumph of the recent photoshoot was evident as my mom, the chairwoman, showered accolades on everyone involved.
The prior evening had been a whirlwind of reports heralding the unprecedented success of Theo's attire, leaving me awash with pride in my design prowess.
Even the once challenging actress found herself basking in the limelight, thanks to her captivating pose alongside Theo. Accomplishment washed over me as the narrative of the photoshoot unfolded seamlessly.
In the midst of applause, my mother's announcement of bonuses sparked a chorus of grateful claps.
A brown-haired guy in the crowd seized the opportunity to commend, "It was all a success because Miss. Carter was the designer," thrusting the spotlight onto me.
Despite my attempt to remain inconspicuous, I found myself acknowledging the applause with a gracious smile.
As the meeting drew to a close, I trailed my mother outside, her warm smile accompanied by a compliment on my achievement. Expressing gratitude, I reciprocated with a thankful smile.
However, her next proposal caught me off guard, suggesting joining the team for drinks later in the day. Aware of my aversion to bars and unfamiliar social settings, my brow furrowed at the notion.
Before I could decline, the brown-haired guy, fueled by the desire to extend the celebration, interjected, "You get to choose the bar. We just want to celebrate with you, Miss. Carter."
Caught in the momentum, I shot a pleading look at my mom, silently hoping for a reprieve. To my dismay, she chuckled and assured, "She would join you guys," leaving me with no escape and an audible groan at the situation she had orchestrated.
As I sat in my office, the weight of unresolved emotions lingered in the air. The glowing screen of my phone illuminated with Lucas's name on the call log, tempting me to reach out. However, the fear of facing his potential cold shoulders held me back.
Lucas had always been easygoing, brushing off things with laughter the next day as if nothing happened. However, three days had passed since that incident, and he is still avoiding me.
My fingers hesitated above the screen, torn between the desire to mend things and the anxiety of potential rejection. With a frustrated sigh, I dropped the phone onto my desk, running my fingers through my hair. Regret gnawed at me, acknowledging that I shouldn't have let my anger manifest in those hurtful words.
I grappled with the complexity of my emotions, aggravated by his seemingly carefree attitude towards my feelings while being committed to Ruby. Despite Lucas dismissing Ruby as a "fake," the undeniable truth remained—they were in a relationship. The turmoil within me intensified, and I let out another sigh, leaning back on my swivel chair.
Why was it so hard for me to get my love reciprocated?
Swinging the chair to face the window, I pondered the distance I had gained from Lucas. Perhaps, I mused, it was an opportunity to untangle the web of conflicting emotions that had resurfaced since our reunion. I tried to convince myself that the pain would diminish with the physical separation.
The truth reverberated loudly in my heart—my love for him persisted, perhaps even more intensely than before. Despite my outward appearance of reluctance, deep down, I yearned to be closer to him. Silently, I wished he would push the boundaries further, even though it felt like an imprudent desire. Over these three years, nothing had changed.
And you have a f*****g boyfriend!
What we have isn't a relationship!
Yet, despite this realization, the temptation lingers. The path I'm on carries the ominous potential of turning me into a cheat.
As my thoughts shifted to Brian, a deeper realization unfolded. Our relationship existed as a mere facade, devoid of genuine love. Closing my eyes, I concluded it was time to end the charade. Continuing when neither of us truly considered it a relationship was pointless. It became clear; it was merely an excuse to avoid embracing the man I had longed for.
Damn it! This is utterly pathetic!
Turning back to my desk, I grabbed my phone and dialed his number. The familiar ring echoed, but there was no answer. Undeterred, I sent a text, urging the need for an urgent conversation. It was time to face the truth and make decisions that would set me free from the emotional entanglements I found myself in.
And you think after breaking up with him it would be a happily ever after with, Lucas?
I don't know.
Despite the clear signs and the rational understanding that Lucas may not reciprocate, my heart clings to the fragile hope that one day he might see what I see. I'm aware that this path could lead to heartbreak, yet my heart, stubborn and insistent, refuses to be swayed by reason.
The boundaries I set are feeble, and despite knowing the potential for suffering, my heart craves his attention, yearning for him to breach those limits. Love, once portrayed as beautiful, now feels like a relentless curse, bringing me only heartbreak over the years. As I find myself heading towards the danger sign once again after three years, frustration boils within me, I never did learn my lesson.
The atmosphere in the bar was lively, filled with laughter and clinking glasses. I found myself seated at a dimly lit corner of the bar, surrounded by my colleagues, all celebrating the triumph of the recent photoshoot. The table was crowded, and the air was thick with the scent of alcohol, a place I rarely found myself.
Despite the joyous occasion, I felt a sense of discomfort in this unfamiliar setting. Bars and alcohol weren't my forte, but I willingly came here, lured by the prospect of a chance encounter with him.
The bar seemed a bit distant from the company, and Alex, the guy who had complimented me during the meeting, whispered to me jokingly, "This bar seems a bit far from our company."
"They serve good beer," I replied absentmindedly, not realizing the absurdity of my response.
Truthfully, I didn't know any other bars nearby, but deep down, I wanted to be here, hoping for a chance meeting with Lucas. He had mentioned he frequented this place with his brothers.
Owen, seemingly surprised by my presence, informed me that Lucas had not yet arrived for the day. The embarrassment struck me when I learned about my unexpected tabletop dance from him.
Throughout the evening, my eyes darted towards the entrance whenever the door swung open, anticipating his arrival. I was torn between wanting him to come and not wanting him to come.
"You're not drinking?" Alex leaned in suddenly, catching me off guard.
I pulled back uncomfortably, shaking my head. Just as I redirected my attention, I heard Owen call out, "Lucas!"
Turning abruptly, my gaze met Lucas's entrance. He strode into the bar, sharing a hearty laugh with a black-haired man trailing behind him.
The sound of his laughter, deep and rich, sent a tingling sensation through my insides. Dressed in a black sleeveless shirt, his arms adorned with more tattoos than three years ago, he greeted Owen. When Owen pointed in my direction, Lucas turned, catching my gaze.
In the timeless exchange, his blue eyes held mine, and within my heart, a cascade of emotions unfolded. The question echoes within the chambers of my thoughts: why does his gaze stir such uncontrollable emotions in me? Is it the gentle warmth nestled in his eyes, or perhaps the illusionary hint of care that I convince myself I perceive?
Alex pushed a glass toward me, tapping my shoulder, making me break from the stare. "It wouldn't be fair if we all drank and you don't," he smiled.
As I redirected my attention to Lucas, I witnessed him striding away towards a booth. The pang in my heart was palpable, acknowledging the sting of being ignored, a bitter pill to swallow. Yet, deep down, I couldn't deny that, in some way, I deserved it.
As the bar buzzed with laughter and clinking glasses, I absently played with the rim of the glass cup containing the amber liquid before me. The intention was clear – I had no plans of drinking it.
"Still not interested?" Alex interrupted my contemplation, his talkative nature now grating on my nerves.
I shot him a disapproving look, silently wishing he'd mind his own business like the rest of the table engrossed in their discussions.
"Low alcohol tolerance," I replied, my gaze involuntarily drawn to Lucas's booth.
He drank with his usual nonchalance, seemingly unperturbed by my presence.
"Damn, you must have had embarrassing moments. You must look cute drunk," Alex laughed, and I forced a smile, averting my eyes.
My gaze inadvertently met Lucas's, and he held it for a few seconds before looking away.
I reluctantly grabbed the glass, deciding to take a small sip. The bitter taste made me grimace, reaffirming my distaste for alcohol. Alex laughed, clapping in amusement. I felt the urge to escape his presence.
When I looked back at Lucas's booth, he wasn't there. Panic set in, and I frantically scanned the bar for him, finding him nowhere in sight.
Turning back to the booth, the guy who had entered with Lucas noticed my searching gaze and pointed towards the exit. A silent thank you passed between us, and I took another gulp of the bitter liquid, mustering the courage I needed. With determination, I stood up abruptly, Alex attempting to hold me back.
"Where are you going?" he asked, tightening his grip on my hand.
"Fresh air," I replied, shaking off his hand as I made my way towards the exit.
- Writer
