a/n: This is sort of short, but then the maximum was supposed to be five hundred words and anyway, happy birthday Elizabeth! Have an excellent birthday ( and I'm sure that you will ), :) You're an amazing person, and ever since you joined this forum, I've looked up to you, like an older sister; hope that you like this, :)
give me some of that teen spirit
.
She looks towards him, diamonds dangling from both ears, her ruby red lips maliciously curving into a smirk as she sings forget you, looking straight ahead at him with her onyx fingernails plastered to travel mugs. Sometimes, days don't go as planned — perhaps this was to be expected after all; Massie had seen, after all of these years, the warning signs.
For Bean's sake, the first time that they had kissed was accidental; they had bumped heads in the middle of a dance floor (and she can still remember it right now, sweaty bodies entangled and bright lights, pounding music, fake rain falling from the ceiling and the everlasting light pulling her out of the darkness) and kissed, just for the spur of it and hadn't really ever gotten officially together, never had been seen in public as more than friends, the best of friends, James had assured her.
Perhaps it was okay to be doing this, to leave something behind because right now, he was just another boy and she would be moving on soon enough; Massie was strong, she tried to remind herself. Nevertheless, she had given everything for this relationship to keep going strong and while she was dozing off, just starting to fall for the real him — ignoring the sweet (fake) accent and the gentlemen like (pretend) remarks while he was with another girl, one of her friends, her best friend. And if anybody found out?
Massie swallowed a sob as she sat down in the cold air, pressing her bony wrists and interlacing her fingers with one another, fondly fingering one of his hoodies, fake like everything else was about James, and removes it throwing it into the trash can as the air hostess comes by. A break, she reminded herself; all that she was taking was a break from Britain, a break from KISS. Massie takes a deep breath, slowly and steadily, turning quickly enough into a rippled effect of mistakes falling down into her mouth, turned sour and she presses her hand to her mouth, trying to not to make a bigger fool out of herself and all she's wasted what were meant to be the best years of her life with nothing left to remember those best years by except with crimson stained fingertips and salty tear stains, turned to ashes.
She lets a few tears fall, trying to stuff her mouth with MnM's, a packet found at the bottom of her pastel pink purse, falling down worn cheeks and trying to close her eyes and settle into a position to be able to fly away, to be able to immerse herself in paradise, even if it was make believe, even if it was only for a while. Massie faintly remembers that it's her birthday; some birthday that this turned out to be.
It wasn't meant for her — Westchester was her more, with her best friends who knew her and understood her more than anybody else in the entire planet, more than her parents who didn't give a care about anything that went on during her life, whether it was the fact that she had a severe claustrophobic problem or the fact that she couldn't possibly read a book with a single coffee stain and they were real and true, real and true, and right now that was all she needed;
(Her friends; the only ones who would truly understand.)
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