Thank you so much for reading. Another short one, didn't seem so short when it was read all together as part of the compilation, I swear, lol.

Song:

Twenty One Pilots - Chlorine (Mexico City version)

Duality

Chicago | November 2007

I'm half a bottle of Jack down with Bella's number lit up on my phone. The one I left here to avoid anyone being able to trace where we were, while we were away.

I turned it on when I got back a couple of weeks ago, hoping she'd text, but she's not. Not since her last one, letting me know her new number.

It's foreign, the feeling I got in the pit of my stomach. I can't place it. Shit like this doesn't bother me. Not usually. But this does. Her not reaching out twists my guts up.

I want to know how she's doing. I want to know whether she's with someone. It wouldn't surprise me, even though it makes me feel fucked off. But I got no right to be angry or pissed about it because I've already fucked a faceless, nameless woman since the last time I kissed her.

And still I can't shake her and I don't know why.

I snap my cell shut. Laying back on my bed in the dark, hand through my hair. Fleeting thoughts of her being here with me. Her weight by my side, the fuckin' rightness of that, despite everything.

My phone buzzes, and for half a second I think it might be her.

It's not.

Tanya calling.

I wait before accepting. I've been ignoring her since I got back. The inevitable.

"'Yeah?"

"Yeah? You're AWOL for months and all I get is a 'yeah'? I had to find out from Esme you were away? That you were back, from wherever?"

"Tan," I say reaching for the bottle, taking a gulp. "I don't have to answer to you."

She tuts a bitter laugh down the phone, and I don't know what the fuck to say to her anymore.

She was my girl in school. We were the golden couple in senior year, only we broke up after graduation, after I started working for Alec full on. She didn't know. She still has no idea what I do, how deep I'm stuck in this.

Ever since, there's a cycle that stretches out over months or years. We'll meet up, fuck, do friends with benefits type of thing for a few weeks or months, then she always wants more. Proper labels, commitment. Stuff I don't want or need.

I don't even know if I like her or whether I just like the fact she's familiar. I know she likes my money. My cars. Me? I think she hates me as much as she loves me.

"I miss you," she says softly.

The truth? I don't miss her. At all. And that makes me feel like the jackass I am. "Tanya…"

My lack of response is all it takes to set her off.

"God, I'm such a fucking idiot. I let you in over and over and you just... crush me every single time."

"You always knew I didn't want more," I tell her, words as harsh as they sound.

"So why come back to me over and over, Masen? We've been doing this since high school! And we always end up back together. And it always makes me think we should give this a proper go—"

"No." I pinch the bridge of my nose. "I don't. I don't want that. I've never wanted that. Fuck, Tanya. We're as bad as each other and you know it. I told you last time I saw you, you should find someone else. Someone that can give you what you want."

When she next speaks her voice shakes, with anger or tears I'm not sure. I'm saying all the wrong things and I know it, but our history is that. History. We ain't been together for fuckin' months. It's like she's dismissing all the time since we last saw each other by bringing this up now, as if no time has passed at all.

"Is there someone else? Is that it?"

I don't know why I say it, but I don't want to go back there with her again. I'm an asshole for doing it, but I'd be even more of an asshole if I left her with the impression there's a chance.

"Yeah." I tell her. "There is."

She sucks in a breath. Then she hangs up.