So uh, this was actually slightly painful to write. But I was inspired to write Phillip's reaction to Andi and Luke, so I did. It came out the way it came out. What can I say? Writers are weird.
Disclaimer: Every Witch Way isn't mine.
Barstools, liquor bottles, drunk people, and the smell of vodka were the standout features of Phillip's Friday nights, now. It was 10:34 at night in Silicon Valley, and the seventeen year old was staring blankly at his whiskey sour, turning the news his adoptive mother had reluctantly given him over in his mind.
Andi had a new boyfriend.
Unless this was a typical human reaction, Phillip must have been pretty pitiful. For three weeks, this was how he spent his Fridays. Hanging around in a bar, pouting that Andi and Luke were dating. Carmen, his sister, he supposed, had gotten the fake I.D. from her boyfriend's weed dealer.
There were so many things wrong with this, but he couldn't find it in his heartbroken self to give a damn. Jax had explained alcohol to him, once. He was the reason the idea had crossed Phillip's mind at all.
It's kind of like a medicine, dude. Except it hurts in the morning. But if you have enough of it, everything kind of washes away. It's not good for you. But I'd be lying if I said it didn't make losing Emma a hell of a lot easier. Sometimes, it's the bad choices that keep us alive.
He was certainly right. Whiskey seemed to delete every problem Phillip had.
But shit it hurt in the morning.
"You look a little lost." A bartender gave him a small smile, seeming to have an extreme amount of sympathy for him. She leaned her arms on the counter, examining his face, then his shot, and then his face, again.
"I'm sitting down?" He had already had two shots prior to the one he'd been staring at for the past few minutes; he didn't really understand her meaning.
She was pretty, he noticed. Her eyes were blue like a sapphire, and they held quite a lot of kindness, it seemed. The nametag her wavy bleached blonde hair slightly blocked read Rosalyn, and as hard as he tried not to notice, Phillip realized she seemed to have quite a- uh- full bust. Her full lips were painted red and her eyelashes looked black and full; however, she appeared to be wearing little or no other makeup.
Her laugh sounded...nice. His already warmed chest got even hotter when he heard the sound. "Mentally, you goof. Lemme guess: breakup?"
The words removed him from the minor trance she had put him in, and once again thoughts of Andi plagued his mind. With a sigh, he nodded. "Something along those lines."
It wasn't exactly true. They had broken up six months ago, when he left Miami. But, he certainly hadn't felt single until he realized leaving meant possibly never getting her back.
Leaving meant her being with somebody else.
Without anymore hesitation, he downed the third whiskey sour of the night. Phillip could feel how bad of an idea this all was; he was tipsy, talking to a hot girl, and in a phase Jax reffered to as a rebound when they had spoken, last week.
Look, man, take some advice from the guy that knows all about this shit; don't start hanging around other chicks until you're over her. I don't care if it's the hottest woman on the planet- well, I do because you shouldn't be hitting on Emma- you need to wait. Going out and dating someone new, or having a random one night stand is only going to make it worse. Rebounds are self destructive, mate. You're better off alone.
As much as he trusted and believed Jax, that rebound was looking really good right about now.
"Damn, that sucks. Take it she meant a lot to you; I've seen you in here every Friday for the past three weeks. You weren't around, before."
"I didn't drink."
"Judging by how wasted you've left this place recently, I'm gonna say that's changed." Her smile was welcoming instead of judgemental. Most of the bartenders had been giving him judgy looks. But this one was clearly very young, probably couldn't even drink, herself. Younger people understood recklessness. It was part of growing up.
"How old are you?"
"Nineteen." He was right.
"Cool. I'm Phillip, by the way." He tried something he didn't ever do, because he thought it would make him look stupid. Phillip smirked.
"You can call me Rosie." Her tone dropped an octave and her smile turned seductive. A single curl started twirling around her finger.
Oh, yeah. She was hitting on him.
Phillip didn't have experience with this. He never had to woo Andi, seeing as she had created him. No other women had ever appeared to be into him, and even if they had, part of him was still holding out hope that he would get back with Andi.
Everything he knew he learned from Jax's efforts to win Emma over, as well as the occasional harmless flirting he had done as way to show off to Phillip.
Most of the memories were faded, because they were from when he was a zombie. But the basics remained. So, taking full advanage of his liquid courage and anger at Luke for existing, he leaned forward and brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear.
The song Pretend I Never Loved You by Brett Young started to play. It was unusual, because this far west, most people despised country music.
How fitting the song was for what he was about to do.
"Well, Rosie," He chuckled a tiny bit, lowering his voice. The way she bit her lip didn't go unnoticed. "What time does your shift end?"
Carmen would cover for him, he was sure. It was the price of him not telling their parents she was dating a pothead.
"Five minutes." She breathed out.
"Perfect." He planted a soft kiss on her jaw. "What do you say we ditch this place? Go have a little fun."
He pushed away the flashes of every moment he spent with Andi, and the words that Jax warned him with, and his guilty conscience telling him that it was wrong to do this. He loved Andi.
Phillip ignored it all.
"My place?" She whispered.
"Yeah." Don't do it, Phillip.
"Let's go."