First Draft. Random Chapter.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A first draft of a part of a chapter which I have been writing, I would love some feedback so I know what I can improve upon. A somewhat romance piece.

Submitted: May 20, 2015

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Submitted: May 20, 2015

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I will never forget the awkwardness of us crossing paths that night, as I was pushing my way through the crowd towards the bar with an Australian guy I had just met. We walked straight past one another, the world feeling as though it stopped as our eyes connected, we paused for a second but said nothing, as the world restarted again and I pushed past you.

 

I could see you weren’t happy with me, but I couldn’t understand the problem, so instead of trying to ask you what was wrong was I proceeded to make it worse by dangling men in front of you, watching you while they whispered in my ear and brushed my hair off from around my neck. I was drunk and laughing too loud on purpose to ensure you knew I have having what you could think was the time of my life, but I wasn’t. I cared what you thought, I needed a jealous reaction out of you to make myself worthwhile, to ensure your feelings for me, to make me feel as though you cared, but I didn’t get what I wanted. We started to play a game like teenagers at a party, trying to out do one another with flirting with others, kissing others, maybe even fucking others if it came to it.

 

I stood watching you at the bar with a short, brunette girl, laughing and flirting and touching as you bought her a drink and put your arm round her, not even once looking at me, like the game had finished, like you didn’t know I was there, like you were doing it just because you wanted to, because you wanted her. I got angry, I got really angry. Genuine anger wasn’t an emotion I had felt in a while. I could feeling it bubbling up inside of me, slowly but surely getting stronger and stronger, like a kettle of the stove, getting hotter and hotter until eventually it explodes and it was the same for me. The more I watched you the angrier I became, clenching my fists and biting my cheeks staring at you with hate. You made me angry enough to break something, that’s a first. I like that though. That makes me feel like you’re worthy, like we’d have a great love, a roller-coaster of emotions, excitement, envy and lust. Nobody wants a mundane relationship, being comfortable is not the one for me. I was fire and ice, hot and cold, hate and love, I don’t want a steady stream of warm water. I want it burning hot and then freezing cold, to always keep me on my toes and unaware of how you will be with me from one second to another.

 

I tried to speak to you, I couldn’t play the stupid game any more. I was done and I thought you would be too, I walked over to you where you were stood with some of your lads, you saw me walking towards you, I know you did, I could swear I saw you watching me as I came over.

‘Hey! How are you?’ I said with a huge drunken smile on my face. You continued to talk to your friends and ignore me as though I wasn’t even there, not even turning your back to look at me. 'James.’ I said, tugging on the sleeve of your rough, woollen coat. You turned around with fire in your eyes.

'What do you want? Go away.’ You said with your voice raised, your jaw clenched tight with anger. 'Go with him, go with him.’ You gestured angrily towards a man I had previously been flirting with and you turned around again, with your back facing me.

'James..’ I said, suddenly upset at the thought that you didn’t see this as just a game.

'Go away Milenna, go with him. Go!’ You spat with anger. I stood there for a second more, staring at the back of your green coat, my mouth open in shock, confused at what was going on. I thought to myself that maybe I had taken it too far or maybe I had drunkenly read the emotions of the night wrong and you weren’t playing a game at all, and you really were hurt. I slowly turned away and stormed outside to the smoking area to find my friends, I felt shaky, with anger pouring through my veins and sadness filling up my mind. I found my friends, outside on the boat talking to the group of Australian 'yachties’ who we’d just met; because we lived on the coast this meant there was always plenty of yachts in the shipyard which often brought along an abundance of English speaking crews and captains, usually the crews consisted of rowdy, loud mouthed, horny Australians that threw up in the street and would fuck anything that moved, anyway this people were called 'yaughties’ and that night we met a huge group of them, they were fun though as we sat there with them slamming shots and secretly kissing under the tables.

 

I made a big scene outside, screaming and shouting about the night and the fact that I needed you back and I needed you to pay attention to me. I pushed drinks off tables, hit into things and smashed them on the floor, with people watching me like a ticking time bomb scared they would say something to me that would set me off and I’d end up jumping off of the boat or smashing a glass over someone’s head. Lola, a small, skinny Asian looking girl, from London, who had become some what of a friend to me in Livaco, came and stood by me and gave me a hug. 'Milenna, calm down. What’s wrong?’ She said nervously laughing and glancing over to her boyfriend.

'James!’ I exclaimed angrily 'What the fuck!'

'Milenna, calm down. I think maybe you’ve drunk too much, do you want us to take you home?’

'No! I don’t want you to take me home, I want James and I want him now. What the fuck Lola. What the fuck is going on.’

'I don’t know Milenna, James is a dick'ed. I don’t know what happened just forget about it.’ You said as though bored with my behaviour.

'He thinks I’m a bitch, he thinks I’m a slut and not a nice person? When then I’m gonna prove him right.’ I said venomously before confidently walking across the boat decking to one of the Australian men I had been talking to earlier in the night and kissing him passionately, pulling on his skirt collar and biting his lip. I broke the kiss and I looked at him, his face was a sight of shock and pure delight. He wasn’t an attractive guy really, he was tanned, with nice teeth and he had a hat pulled down over his forehead so you couldn’t really see his potential if he had any. He was sweet though, a complete sweetheart and he seemed as though he was suddenly smitten, asking me to come to Monaco with him, to change my plans and to see him this weekend if I was free.

'Hello.’ He said. I smiled back and him, before saying goodbye and walking back over to Lola, she was looking at me with her mouth open in shock.

'Is that better? Does that prove his point? Because fuck this. I’m a horrible person, I hate myself and he’s right.’ I said as tears filled my eyes and a feeling of self-loathing entered my mind. Something that happened to me quiet often when I was drunk, a sudden feeling of hate and disgust for myself, as though looking in the mirror could make me cry, as though every inch of my being my poisoning my mind and I couldn’t cope with it any more. I ran off into the bathroom and cried to myself, staring in the mirror and watching my mascara run down my face, and cheeks and nose become red as with each tear I hated myself a little more, so much more in fact that I couldn’t bare to look at myself and I punched the perfectly shined mirror, causing it to split diagonally from one corner to the other.

 

I ran out the bathroom wiping the make up off my face, as I made my way through the crowds of people to the busy, over-priced bar where I bumped into more of the Australian yaughties, who proceeded to buy rounds of shots and feed me alcohol until I could barely stand and I was seeing stars even with my eyes open. I stumbled over to a bar stool and went to sit down and missed, and I would have fallen on the floor had the Australian which I’d kissed early hadn’t grabbed my arm and pulled me up.

'Whoopsie’ He said as he gently guided me and sat me down on the stool 'You okay girl?'

'I’m fine.’ I said, pushing his hands off of my knees, feeling some how resentful towards him.

'You’re so beautiful. Literally the most gorgeous girl in the room. Did you win Miss.Livaco?’ He said attempting to be charming, and in a way it was working because I pulled him towards me and kissed him again, putting my hand over his belt and pulling at it to show him that I wanted to fuck him. I didn’t though, and I knew I wouldn’t, I was lonely and bored and drunk. I sat on the stool in silence, as everyone around me laughed and smiled and drunk shots, offering me more alcohol, more drugs, more of whatever I wanted. I got up and went to the smoking area and sat alone, and watched the boat and the canal, my favourite, serene place. I don’t know how long I sat there for but the club became quiet and empty as Lola walked outside and told me they were going home and that she would take me, I declined and she left me. I sat there thinking about the night, and thought about your face as I took my phone out and rang you over and over and over again, 23 times in fact until you finally answered the phone.

'What Milenna?’ You said, sounding undoubtedly irritable.

'Please James, please please please just talk to.’ I begged pathetically, not wanting to lose you as though I would die without you, as though I needed you to cope, to live, to be. We spoke for a while, while I started to walk home as you told me what a horrible person I was and that I was a slut and disgusting and not worth your time. I felt useless and worthless and like I couldn’t make our situation better. I begged you to come and see me over and over again and finally you gave in and agreed to meet me. I waited for you in the Piazza, watching the big white statue as I fumbled around looking for chewing gum and cigarettes as you pulled up next to me.

 

'James!’ I said over joyed to see you. You looked at me furiously as I opened the door of your Mercedes and got in to the passengers seat. I tried to touch your hand, and hold onto your fingers but you smacked me off telling me not to touch you.

'I’m not happy with you Milenna, why have you done this? Why would you do this to me? Why would you be like this huh?’ You said looking at me with a confused look on your face and shaking your head.

'James..’ I said grinning drunkenly 'Come on.’

'Don’t smile at me and don’t touch me, this isn’t a joke and if you’re gonna be like that then get out of my car!'

I sensed the seriousness of the situation and I composed myself and listened as you told me what a horrible person I was, that I wasn’t worth your time and that I was pathetic and immature, how you thought I was different and you were sad that you’d been wrong about me but now you were done and we were done.

 

'So we’re done? We’re finished?’ I said, tears filling my eyes as I looked at you and went to rest my head on you’re knee. You let me stay there for a second as I held your hand, watching you as you closed you’re eyes and clenched your jaw. You opened your eyes again and looked at me.

'We’re done. We’re finished.’ You said, as you shook my hand off and I lifted my head of your knee. 'Now go away Milenna. Go away. Go away.’ You turned your head from me, and looked out the window as tears began to silently roll from my eyes.

'No James, no. You don’t mean it, come on you’re just angry, please.’ I said as I tried to hold on to your hand again, you moved your hand.

'Don’t touch me.’ You said as you turned to face me, and saw I was crying 'Nice acting.’

'I’m not acting you fucking dick'ed.’ I shouted suddenly filled with a false pretence of anger.

'Go away Milenna, get out of the car and go away.’

'No James, please.’ I begged.

'Go away.'

I shook my head as you turned away from me, so you could no longer see my broken expression.

'Go away Milenna. Please just go away.’ You shook your head and laughed 'Just go away.’

'Ja..’ I started, but you cut me off.

'It was a pleasure Milenna, now please go.’ You said facing to look at me, a fed up and upset look on your face, your eyebrows furrowed and you looked at me, swallowing a lump in your throat. I shook my head and got out the car slamming the door as you quickly drove off and left me there by the statue crying as I picked my bike up off the floor and attempted to cycle home. I cycled up one street, my tears drying on my face in the cold winter air, making my skin tight and uncomfortable. I felt like I needed to see you again, so I stopped cycling and rang you back, telling you that’d I’d left my other phone in your car and that I needed it back so I needed to see you. You asked me where I was and arrived to me within a few minutes. I threw my bike on the floor and opened the car door, pretending to half heartedly look around the car for my phone.

'It’s not here Milenna, so just go.’ You said, sighing, clearly fed up and exhausted with the situation. I sat in the passengers seat and refused to leave, asking if you could take me home.

'I’m scared I’ll get raped or murdered.’ I continued to ask you.

'Not my problem.’ You replied, now getting angry, as you clenched your fists and your jaw.

'James.’ I whined, begging for your attention for the last time. You finally snapped, fed up with me being there, and fed up with me not listening to you.

'Just go! You shouted, just go Milenna. I don’t want you here, so go, go, go, go.’ I tried to speak, but you cut me off every time saying 'Go away, go away, go away!’ I got angry and told you to fuck yourself, and I got out the car leaving the door wide open.

'Close the door.’ You said, looking at me like I was the worst person you’d ever come across.

'No.’ I replied, my heart beating out of my chest, with fake courage.

'Fucking bitch!’ You shouted with spite as you lent over and slammed the door shut, as I cycled away ensuring I had a big smile on my face, and fake laughed to ensure I looked composed and unhurt, in case you looked at me in your rear view mirror.

 

You turned off the road I was on and I stopped laughing, and cycled home speedily thinking about how I was only going to have two hours sleep, and thinking about how I’d ruined everything between us, and picturing your face as I walked past you in the club with another man. A moment I will never forget, kept and preserved like a photograph in a gallery. The expression of a broken man, of a broken heat, of a broken relationship.


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