Perfect Type of Wrong (English)

5: Phone Call

       'WHAT PART of no is hard to understand?'

        Kimberly closed her eyes when the scene after she kissed Chester came to her like a nightmare. It had been hours since she stole it from him, and yet the pain remained as saturated as how it was when she was still standing there while watching him go back to Jackie's side.

        It was funny and shameful at the same time. She didn't even have the chance to seduce him after that tasteless, dry lip touch.

        "Toast for all the stupid women in the world!" she laughed bitterly while raising the bottle of Margarita in her hand.

        With the party still going on just some meters away and the Eilish's parking lot as empty as her broken heart, she bet no one could hear her drunk monologue. Thus, she let it go.

        She badly needed to do it, or else she would explode.

        "Damn! What does she got that I don't? Do you need boobs, Chester? Is that all?!" she continued venting out, slumping on that wooden seat, careless of her mascara making thin black lines on her face as she kept on crying.

        Her mind was getting dizzier and dizzier but dare she did not stop chugging down her liquor. Worse, her grip on it was even getting tighter and tighter.

        "If it's just it, then g*ddamn f*cking fine! I'll get a third just to keep you satisfied, Chester!"

        She knew she sounded ridiculous to talk like that, especially when the man she was talking to couldn't even hear her. Nonetheless, she just couldn't control it. She tried to look up and forced her tears not to roll down but dang, how she was failing it.

            "Chester! I'll get you!" she cursed before using the back of her hand to dry her eyes and started her wobbly steps towards her car. "I'll get you. I swear, I'll get you. You're mine, so I'll get you!"

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     JACE WAS still in hell, trying to think of how to keep silent when all the demons in him were breaking loose. 

        His fingers were tensed around the cigarette he was clipping between them. He was huffing smoke successively without even resting his lungs. His other hand was frantic while typing on his cellphone. He badly needed diversion right now, and by that, he meant someone who could temporarily occupy his head other than whiskey and nicotine.

        [Coleen, are you available?]

        He rested his heavy head against his car.

        After hours of thinking and wanting to run, it was funny how he stayed in that parking lot instead of escaping the place. He still thought of the part and the set of people having fun inside their house. It was for him. After all, it was his birthday that they were celebrating there.

       He closed his eyes when Kimberly's smiling face crossed his mind. The contrast of her red dress against her alabaster skin, her never-ending legs that he had been dreaming of to feel around his waist, her mildly curled hair that touches the same shoulder he would want to taste all night long, and her pair of doe-eyes that could stir all the emotions inside him as she kills him slowly with each dagger stare.

       'Get over this, Jace. You did it the last time. You can do it again. She's not yours. Never did and never would. Pick yourself up and stop thinking!'

    His fist hit the top of his car a little too loudly than he intended and grabbed the bottle of whiskey sitting there. He couldn't care less if the liquor was burning his throat when he drunk it straight from the bottle. It was hot, burning, it hurt his throat like s**t, but then, it was precisely what he needed.

        Recovering a little, he forced himself to focus on the cellphone in his hand again, tapping in a hurry.

        [It's either you come here Coleen, or I'll bed somebody else. By the way, Melissa's here. Should you want me to release this on her instead?]

        "Damn lazy, F*ck Buddy." He palmed his face.

        That text sounded desperate, and he wanted to laugh at himself with what he just wrote. It was like he wasn't him at all. He was never the desperate type of guy. He never had any steady woman, and yet he never really experienced having none. There was always a warm p*ssy behind him all this time.

        He wasn't asking for much anyway. He had his rules with them. They meet, they have s*x, they agree to be each other's exclusive f**k buddy, then they break up once they were not meeting what they both needed anymore. It was the way he survived.

        Why?

        Because he couldn't commit. He just couldn't.

        The worse part of his situation was knowing why he was like that. Everything was clear as the sun to him.

        [I'm off. Find another man, Coleen. I'm grabbing someone else. It's nice bedding you.] he texted Coleen, finally deciding to kick her off his life.

        He burst into an empty laugh after tapping the send button. Lazily. he pushed himself away from his car. His eyelids felt heavy, more so, his whole body. He was positive that Melissa wouldn't get much from him once they hit the sheet. 

        Why not give the poor doctor what she wanted, right? It was just a c**k anyway.

        His head was down while walking across their parking lot. He was observing how his steps were landing on the floor. Well, it looked like the ground wasn't waiving yet, which meant that he still got spaces for more whiskey inside his head.

        He needed the whiskey to do him a favor. His imagination goes wilder when he was drunk, and it let him imagine and see things that couldn't happen in reality. Like, burying himself deep into someone else's body while thinking of another face.

       'Yeah, an alabaster perfect face.'

        He was already close to the parking lot's gate when his phone suddenly rang inside his trousers. He shook his head and nonchalantly raked his hair with his fingers. It seemed like Coleen wasn't ready to give his bed performance yet. Poor her, though, cause Jace wasn't the type to went around the same partner twice. Plus, Melissa was already in reserve.

        Jace readied himself to spat the nastiest breakup lines he had been using over and over with every woman he f****d with. One deep breath, and he had his phone against his ear. "Get over this..."

        [I yield! I'm giving up!] a crying voice cut him off.

        He couldn't tell if it was the familiarity of that voice that stunned him. He felt his chest tightened as recognition washed over him as his eyes widened. He couldn't be wrong about who was calling him because he had been mentally memorizing every rise and tone of that for decades. "Kim?"

    [Don't say anything. Just come over here. I'm in the parking lot. Let this be the last, please. I swear, I'm not going to do anything else after this. Just let me see you again.] The woman on the other line sobbed, and automatically his body turned around to scan the dark parking lot he was in.

        There was an imaginary force making him want to run back, but he chose to remain cool, knowing that there was a huge mistake. Rather, he cleared his throat and replied, "Kim, you're drunk. You seemed to have dialed the wrong number..."

    [F*ck me.]

        Now that made his breath rumbled!

        Did he hear her right? Did she have any idea of who she was talking with?

       He couldn't recall when his feet started stepping back to the lines of cars there. He could sense how heavy she was feeling just with the tone of her voice, and it was dragging him towards her. "W-what? I didn't hear that. Again."

       'Damn! Kimberly didn't just say that! She shouldn't be saying that.' He tried to convince himself. " I'm coming there, and I'll drive you home..."

        [I want you to f*ck me.]

        'Holy sh*t!' His phone almost slipped his hand when Kimberly repeated what she just say. There was this sudden ringing inside his ear that was making his head ached. It was his conscience. "You are so wasted, Kimber..."

        [I'm d*mn serious!]

        "I am as well! I'm g*ddamn taking you home!" he shouted back, grabbing the neck of his polo when he started to choke.

    [D-don't you want to f**k me? I need you to do it,] she huffed again, sobbing in a way that was making him want to kick on every car in there. [I want you to f*ck me! Or else...]

        "Or else what, Kimberly?"

    [I'm going to find someone else to do it.]

    That was all he needed to hear when his feet bolted towards where he thought she was as if he wasn't drunk himself and he didn't have his woes.

        D*mn, that phone call.

        He swore there was someone who was going to die in that cold parking lot.