So
Theres this guy at work and were talking and im bad at this and he’s hella cute and far too fucking cool and i literally just chopped off most of my hair
God i hope this works out
So it did in fact not work out little Emily- and good thing too Jesus Christ. He invited you over his “place” and you drove to the address in this weird suburb. He appeared 10 minutes later in pitch black and then asked you if you smoked. You didn’t, he said ok we’ll go back to his place to drink-which was not where you were parked in front of weird.
So you drive to his “place”, a very large house that just took up the whole sky. He tells you to wait there while he goes to open the door. Back and forth he went trying to get in as you text your friend “if I don’t come in tomorrow it’s because I’m dead lol” cause how else are you going to react to slowly accepting the fact that you’re part of statistic now.
He finally after 10 minutes gets the back door opened and you both walk into a large dark room. It has 2 identical queen beds both with maybe a blanket covering then and just hoards of objects all over. He pours you a drink of the strongest Jamaican rum you will ever smell-you fake drink it. He starts playing heavy trap music and tries kissing you. It’s like he’s sucking off your face in the worst way and then he grabs you and you stand your ground. This isn’t happening and you’re pissed at yourself but this isn’t how it’ll happen for you. He walks you back to your car and you drive home crying.
Your mother doesn’t get better with comforting you. She says he made a mistake-everyone but you makes mistakes. She won’t get better. And you think it’ll get awkward at work but it works out-he took too much Xanax and forgot to label any of the chicken. And you never see him again or figure out if his was really David.