When Hate Ends

Bye Bye Pretty Boy

"You could have just done what she said, Sloane. There's nothing wrong with appealing for what you want” Sloane stared at Elliot, her gaze blurry.

She had asked Elliot, her fiancé to take her out of Manhattan and across the river to Jersey City, somewhere she could drown out the day's events and forget about everything that had gone wrong and there he was lecturing her on how she could have handled the issues.

She hated it…medicine after death. How was she even engaged to him...

“It's done, Elliot. There's no need for”…She hiccupped and waved a dismissive hand… “all this bullshit”. She downed another shot. That was the fifth in just two minutes. Sloane swallowed it anyway.

“Stop drinking. You brought this on yourself” She reached for another. “Sloane.” She ignored him and downed the sixth. She looked at him, anger and irritation slowly creeping in.

“Tell me I do not know that I crumbled my works with my own f****d up hands”

“Why don't you go beg that useless Calloway premature b***h for your own efforts?” Her voice increased as she let out her pent up frustration. The music was not so loud so her voice could be heard.

“Sloane, calm down. We're in public.”

“Well, you should have thought of that before bringing up my mistakes or wait, let me do the work for you.” She climbed up the table with her heels, her steps swaying. She was clearly under the effect of the alcohol.

“Well, listen up motherfuckers. I'm Sloane f*****g Hart and I just messed up my already f****d up life today. I called my fiance over but now, I can't stand him because he f*****g chose to blame me rather than comfort me” All eyes were on her already. Some laughed and some ogled at her.

“Sloane, get down,” Elliot whispered.

“Then leave his sorry ass, girl” a female voice said amid the crowd and laughter erupted.

“Yeah baby, you too sexy for that kind of stress” another voice said but this time it was male.

“I f*****g know, right?” Sloane asked and the crowd laughed in amused cheer.

“Sloane, get down now” Elliot's voice grew stern. He glanced around the room. Several people were staring at her, some amused, others simply curious.

He saw the way the men looked at her but he could not blame them. Sloane who normally carried herself highly was dressed as a business themed stripper hosting a show.

“Strip for us, baby. You got one fine ass there” Another man said and the crowd cheered on again, mostly the men. Elliot immediately swooped Sloane off her feet and got her down. Sloane could do anything crazy…especially when she was drunk.

“There's nothing to see here,” Elliot said, enough for everybody to hear him. They murmured and returned back to their businesses. He hastily cleared the bills and carried Sloane out in bridal style.

“Let me go.” Sloane said, hitting Elliot's chest. “I'm breaking up with you now”. She continued.

“Sloane, you're drunk” Elliot pushed his way through the crowd battling a violent Sloane.

“I'm alert enough to know that I don't want you anymore.” She wrapped her hands around his neck and smiled at him.

“Is that so?” Elliot couldn't help but ask. After all, in drunken states, people did talk to their heart's content even long hidden secrets could be let out at that point.

“You know what I think?” Sloane poked Elliot's chest. Elliot inhaled deeply trying to be patient with Sloane.

“What's that, Sloane?”

“I hate it…I hate…it all” She said in between burps.

“Hate what, Sloane?”

“Opinions, subjections, weaknesses” Sloane said and rested her head on his chest. They finally stepped outside into the cool Jersey City night. The city lights reflected across the pavement, and the distant sounds of traffic filled the silence. They made their way to the car they had driven there.

“I love telling people what to do, I hate when people act weak, they should just do what they have to without regrets …*burps*...”

“You don't say” Elliot said, seemingly interested in what she had to say.

“...I need the bathroom”Sloane said, jumping down from Elliot's arms and walking away, squeezing herself through the crowd.

“Sloane, come back” Elliot shouted after her. Her pace increased and so did that of Elliot.

“That's not the way to the bathroom” That was the last thing Sloane heard from Elliot before bumping into a hard surface. She fell ass flat on the floor, got up and rubbed her forehead.

“I'm sorry for the mistake” the person she has just bumped into offered his hand to help her up. She looked at the hand and got up to her feet on her own leaving the person's hand hanging.

“Sorry my flat ass. Watch where you're going, pretty boy.” She pointed at his chest and then her face suddenly churned.

“I don't feel so good” Almost immediately after saying that, a warm liquid was all over her mouth, her clothes and the person's clothes.

“Ughhh…I reek” Sloane said, giggling. She looked at the person who she had thrown up on. He was surprised yet calm.

“Sloane, let's just go” Elliot stepped in to see the mess his fiancee had created.

“I'm really sorry” Elliot apologized and the person nodded in understanding.

“She's drunk, no problem. Just get her drugs for her hangover and lots of water, she'll be good”

“Thanks man” Elliot turned to Sloane and held her by her waist to support her. She looked over her shoulder.

“Bye bye, pretty boy”

“Aaron bro, you good” A guy called out to who Sloane had vomited on.

“Yeah, the lady's drunk anyway. It's not her fault.” Aaron looked in the lady's direction. She and the guy had just taken a turn out of the club.

"Either way, it's disgusting," the guy continued. "Let's get you cleaned up."

By the time Elliot and Sloane reached the car, Sloane's earlier energy had begun to fade. She continued mumbling under her breath as Elliot helped her inside.

“We're going home,” he said. He started the engine. The drive was mostly quiet.

Sloane's voice gradually became softer until, less than fifteen minutes later, Elliot glanced toward the passenger seat and found her asleep.

“You just made me realize my mistake, Sloane” He said, then taking a turn to get to their destination. Elliot wasn't thinking about her mistake. He was thinking about his own.