I hope you guys would enjoy this, it's kind of my first attempt please review!
Disclaimer – I do not own glee or any of its characters
Chapter 1
"We can dance until we die. You and I, we'll be young forever..."
I groaned and stretched. Which idiot is calling at six-thirty in the morning this time?
"...Let's run away and don't ever look back, don't ever look back..."
The Caller ID read: Blaine Anderson . My boy-...my best-…ex-best friend. The one who cheated on me with Sebastian. To make things worst that stupid little heart that I could not bear to get rid of.
I frowned and considered just cutting him off, but that would be downright rude, so I swiped answer and pressed the phone to my ear, not even bothering to say a greeting.
'Chris, I know you hate him. And me….both of us. But I...we're just asking you to do us one more favo–'
I wrenched my phone from my ear, not wanting to hear any more. I should have trusted my instincts and changed my ringtone to another song that doesn't hint at him or I probably should just have flushed my phone down the toilet earlier that morning. I made a mental note to do it later.
'– need you right now and – '
What? I looked down and realized that my shaking fingers accidentally pressed the loudspeaker button.
Without thinking, I threw my phone across the room and – Crash! – it knocked over a vase.
One more favour? He broke my heart and now he's asking for one more favor? Is he out of his mind?
Darn.
I sighed inwardly and threw off my comfortable bed-covers and trudged over to my closet. I looked over my choices and finally decided on a turtleneck crimson sweater and dark fitted skinny jeans, which isn't the best but it's better than what most people wear nowadays. I was just about to close my wardrobe door when I saw a corner of a shirt protruding from the drawer Blaine keeps all of his things in. I realized with a start that this was the shirt he wore when he came back that dreadful day he all but admitted that he cheated on me with Sebastian, the damned meerkat.
Ugh, just thinking about it makes me want to projectile vomit.
I shoved the corner of the shirt back into the drawer with a ruler, avoiding much needed unwanted contact with the shirt as possible. I slammed my wardrobe door shut and leaned against it, closing my eyes against the bitter sting of tears. I couldn't cry now, not over this. I, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, the independent, will not cry over a boy who cheated on me.
I opened my eyes and glanced at the clock, which read 6:52.
A good time for a much needed walk, I thought to myself
