Im sorry,
This has taken me forever to write I've just been hell busy.
I know it's a horrible excuse but it's the absolute truth.
I also apologize if I haven't gotten around to reviewing stories, fan fiction has been pushed to the back of my mind, and I feel terrible.
Same disclaimer, Teen Titans is not mine.
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Another ragged breath escaped my mouth as clear liquid trailed down my lips, my eyeliner was smeared and my breath stank like alcohol and vomit. I looked anything but beautiful; people seemed to laugh around me as the world began to sway spinning endlessly in multiple directions leaving me hanging by a string that seemed to grow shorter by the second. Another choke escaped my mouth and I groggily attempted to run from the bar to the bathroom, only to end up tripping on the floor and landing flat on my face. I hit the ground hard and blood leaked from my nose trailing down to mix with my red lipstick, I could just imagine how horrible I must have looked. Not that anyone would notice seeing as half of them were as wasted as I was and the other half already having passed out.
Slowly I rolled to my back and tried to push myself back up only to fall back down two or three times till someone decided to help me up, softly I fell back on to the person's stomach and I let out a deranged laugh.
I began to giggle watching the blood flow freely from my face, it was so pretty rushing down and staining my once clean clothes.
The man or woman muttered words to me and I could feel myself being carried towards the toilet and the sick sensation of vomit filled my mouth once again. With an uncontrolled gag alcohol mixed with bits of dinner flew out of my mouth and all over my clothes and the not so spotless floor. Despite the circumstances I laughed again, the irony of it all hitting me full on and coming back to take another swing at me.
"Fuck Kori, you lost all control, what the hell were you thinking, it's not even humanly possible to consume that much fucking alcohol!"
The sound of the voice sounded low and inaudible in my drunken state but the voice was so familiar, after all he was my drunken savior, "M-m-Mattie!"
Giggling I clumsily turned over to face him, "I-I-I L-o-o-v-e y-you!"
He sighed carrying me out of the pub's bathroom and towards the exit of the pub, "Im taking you home."
"B-but I don't want to leave."
He shook his head in anger his black-gelled locks flew around him like a snake, "I don't care."
To tell the truth that was all I could remember of that night.
The next morning I woke up to no hangover just the feeling that I had drunk way too much and had puked it out all over the bar, apparently I had made the celebrity headlines and received a phone call from my parents. It was turning out to be a wonderful day.
The smell of Starbucks filled my tingling nostrils sending them in a tantalizing wave of excitement, almost calling out 'Mom save me one' I realized I was living with Donna, and my mom was not here. Shaking my head in self-worry I ran out the door and down towards the kitchen.
Donna flashed me a tired smile while greeting me with the daily phrase of the morning,
"Morning gorgeous!"
Her daily greeting was returned by my not-so-nice-yet-you-know-I-love-you reply, "Good morning workaholic!"
"You made the headlines Korina." She shoved the paper under my nose and a Caramel Latte in my other hand offering me a caring smile, "You'll be needing the coffee once you're through with what the celebrity gossip has said about you."
Browsing through the article I almost choked on my coffee, where the fuck did they get this bunch of bullshit, the whole article described my undying love for Richard, which has, lead me to the sad symptoms of an alcoholic. Reading further along it mentioned my internal battle with liquor and the names of the rehab clinics I had checked into in the past. But the part at the bottom shocked me the most, 'we now worry for the world's redheaded beauty as her ex-flame and reason for alcoholic symptoms has moved on to bigger and better sights as he was seen walking down Gotham streets with the luscious actress Helena Bertinelli.'
With a huff I marched towards my room with only one thing in mind to call him up and make him explain what he was doing cheating on me in the open then making the headlines about it. But after anger faded and the last three numbers were left to be dialed I realized the sad truth. Richard and I were no longer together and he was free to be with whomever he wanted.
It was just another breakup, nothing an incredibly fuckable boy could fix. Then why did it hurt so much? Questions pounded through my mind, each one more plaguing than the last.
Had Richard really moved on that quickly, could he have forgotten me already? Sighing I finished the remainder of my latte and chucked it at the bin carelessly, why does it shock me so? Did I really believe everything he had ever said to me was real; that he really wanted to be with me and me only, did I buy all of the bullshit he laid on me?
A soft knock was made on my door and Donna's sweet voice called out to me, "Baby take it easy. Im going out to meet Roy in a bit, do you want to come? Hes bringing a friend."
Without a second thought I agreed to come reasoning that I moved to L.A. to move on from Richard. What was the point of moving just so I could mope about him here like I did in Gotham?
Black tight fitting jeans and a pink tank top, which was only held together by a strap at the back, was worn to go with my new white ballet pumps. My eyeliner was done light and my cheeks were tinted with a hint of blush, my lips held nothing but a smack of Chap Stick. With a quick once-over in my mirror I nodded in satisfaction and ran down to meet Donna.
Donna looked stunning yet simple with a cream-colored turtleneck and a jean-beaded mini paired with a set of plain black Prada heels. Her makeup was light, only pink lipstick and a touch of grey eye shadow that seemed to compliment her raven locks.
"If only I could look like Donna Troy."
With a roll of her eyes we walked towards her car and drove towards the café where we were meeting Roy and his 'friend'.
The café came into view after half an hour or so of driving all of which I used to try and think of something other than Richard fucking Grayson.
She parked and we gracefully walked from the car to the small café where Roy was seating, the chair next to him was unoccupied and I began to become curious on who his mysterious 'friend' was.
"Hey Kori, going to ignore me all day?"
Looking up I locked eyes with Donna's baby-faced boyfriend offering him a toothy grin and a peck on the cheek, a million questions were waiting to be asked but I settled with the simplest, "So who is this hunk-muffin that you have brought along to charm our drear lives with?"
He raised his carrot brows at my choice of words, "This 'hunk-muffin' is in the bathroom, but im sure he will brighten your 'drear' life, he seems to have done so to most of Gotham and the rest of the female population."
My stomach began to churn; Roy could only be talking about one certain Gotham Elite.
His name fluttered across my mind and I could barely summon up the courage to speak it as he walked outside of the café and into the outdoor terrace we were currently sitting at.
Halfheartedly I wished that he wasn't Roy's friend and was here on business or some other matter but my other half began to pound in excitement, the type of excitement that only he could build.
Blue met green in a cliché lock of shock and remorse, "Anders." He gave a curt nod and I replied in the same choppy greeting, "Grayson."
Donna and Roy ceased their chattering and grew quite now aware of the growing tension between Richard and me.
Afraid of the now awkward silence I tried to start up a decent conversation with the boy I had wished to never lay eyes on again, "So what brings you to L.A."
He gave me a coy wink his cobalt eyes sparkling with mischief, "You."
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And there is my cliché very short ending.
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