I start to make out two people in bed probably fucking by the sounds they’re making. My heart stops beating once my stupid brain receives the message of what’s actually going on and what I just walked in on.
It takes me less than a minute to feel like an unwelcomed intruder. I’m hurt and confused. I’m all out of sorts to even begin to fathom anything going on with my life lately. Why would she ask me to come meet her? She wanted to humiliate me! She wanted me to walk in on her and Louis fucking! Maybe it wasn’t even her texting me, it was him! It just dawned on me that on the same day he comes to see me I finally get a text from her, the woman I’ve been waiting for over a month to form any bloody communication with decided to reach out to me today of all days.
I close my eyes as the need to scream and hurt someone slowly chokes me. I should get out of here and not give him the satisfaction of knowing I saw him sleeping with my Emily. I start to walk away slowly as Louis groans out his release and shifts off of Emily. I should go, I should run, but I’m paralyzed with disbelief like a bystander in a car that’s caught on the tracks, watching a train approach, knowing he’s about to be wrecked. It’s over, I lost, and yet I’m still standing, waiting to see her one more time. I think I see her face in the light illuminating from the window. I try to make out her features in this darkness, features that I’ve spent the last month tracing and stroking in my dreams.
I can’t move, I’m transfixed as I finally see her lying in bed. I’m so dazed and confused I don’t even know my own name, but I most definitely know that this girl lying in bed is not my Emily. She looks familiar and it takes me a few seconds to recognize her from the pub earlier. This was the fit bird I rescued from those two blokes. Why is she in Emily’s room? Why is she in bed with Louis? Louis starts moving as I instinctively move and hide myself in the dark, open closet. I need to find out what in bloody hell this rubbish is all about, because everything in my mind is spinning out of control.
I move to stand behind the closet door as I see movement. Louis gets up off the bed and a few minutes later, leaves. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as millions of scenarios flood my brain. That pretty girl at the pub said she was meeting someone; it must’ve been Louis. She was meeting him and they naturally fucked because he’s an animal and bangs everything that moves. I hear the sound of the elevator arrive and then the doors close, which means he left. I slowly walk out of my hiding quarters and back into the dark colossal room. I bravely get close to the bed just to make sure that the woman lying there is in fact not my Emily. I edge closer as I ensure for certain it’s the American girl from before. She’s half naked with her tits out and her dress around her waist. She stirs and moves her head towards me. I notice her closed eyes and the marred black mascara on her cheeks. She was crying! Of course she was crying, Louis makes every woman cry, it’s his signature touch, I reflect with disgust. I hope he didn’t hurt her.
I move away from the bed and decide to stay here until morning to talk to this poor girl, because I need answers. I’ll make sure she’s okay and perhaps warn her off Louis fucking Bruel, too. It would actually work quite nicely in my favor if Louis chose his mistress over Emily, but I truthfully wouldn’t wish him on bloody anybody, not even a whore.
I sit on a chair by the closet for a bit, watching this strange girl. She’s moving about quite a bit in her sleep and making pained sounds every once in a while. This day has been increasingly tiring and I’m buggered, my eyes slowly close, and my head falls to my chest as the jolt wakes me. I spy a comfy-looking tufted divan and move my confused, tired arse to let my head rest for a few while I wait