Prologue
Elena
Fridays were supposed to meansomething, something that wasn’t whatever the hell I usually felt. Something that resembled freedom, fun, or even release. But for me, they always felt like pretending. Like they were just another day to put on a dress over a bruise, like life would somehow get better just because the calendar said so.
The office lights hummed above my head as I shut down my computer. I watched as everyone packed up to leave, rushing to escape the very thing they had begged for, their laughter echoing through the hallway. I smiled when I needed to, said “see you Monday” as though I meant it, and walked out into the city night like everyone else. By the time I finally clocked out, my brain felt like fried wires wrapped in expensive perfume and exhaustion.
The city outside buzzed like it usually did. The air was filled with the sounds of car horns honking, and people’s idle chatter as they walked past you. The smell of rain, wet earth, and greasy fried food mixed in a way that always made me think of endingsfor some reason. Maybe because the streets looked too clean afterward, like the rain had somehow washed away everything messy and human…leaving me behind. I shoved my phone into my pocket and thought about cancelling on the girls again. I’d done it the last three Fridays, but the thought of sitting alone in my apartment made my chest ache, so I didn’t. I told myself I’d go, smile, drink, laugh, and maybe forget...forget it all just for a little while.
The restaurant was alive as I walked in, a constant reminder of what I wasn’t. Neon lights assaulted my tired eyes, while the never-ending chatter and sharp hiss of oil frying chicken filled my ears in a way that made the dull headache pound in my head. My friends were already there, waving me over with an excitement that only made me feel guilty. Talia’s lipstick was smudged, Mara’s hair glittered with leftover office confetti, and both looked too happy for this world, too happy for me, too happy…period.
“You’re late, sinner,” Mara teased, sliding a glass of beer toward me. “We were about to toast to your tragic love life.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Don’t you think tragic is a big word for something that doesn’t exist?”
Talia smirked. “So he’s still in the picture.”
“He’s not,” I said, biting into a wing. “He’s just…blurry around the edges. You gotta squint really hard to catch him,” I joked, and they filled the conversation with their laughter, the sound so warm it made some of the exhaustion from the week melt away.
We talked about everything and nothing, from coworkers to bad sex, and now? Who’d die first if life were a horror movie? Me.
“Definitely me,” I said, sipping my beer.
Mara rolled her eyes. “You? Please. You’d survive just to haunt the killer for ruining your aesthetic, and trying to end your beer and chicken days.”
“I agree with her on that one…you’re definitely the one staying alive to tell our tale,” Talia concurred, swallowing down more of her drink.
I grinned, even though a part of me thought, “no, I’d just let it happen.” Even though a part of me knew that they would be telling my tale soon…if I had one to begin with.
The laughter blurred for a second, and my friends’ faces softened and stretched. Their voices began to fade until all I could hear was the clinking of glasses and the low hum of the city outside. It almost felt like I had hot sizzling oil on my skin; like the air conditioner was broken, making it feel like a sauna in here. I could sense it all, yet I knew it wasn’t real. I sighed, then stared at the reflection in my drink. A raven-black haired girl with tired eyes stared back at me, with a half smile and no idea why she was still trying so hard to be normal. She whispered the same things I’ve heard for the last year; the things I had finally agreed to listen to.
“You okay?” Mara called, pulling me back from the darkness that matched my pendant…her pendant.Mom’s.
“Yeah,” I said automatically. “Just tired.”
Tired of what? She didn’t ask. And I couldn’t be more grateful that we did this on Friday nights, because being tired was a given. It was the easiest get out of jail free reply that had no one asking you anything more. Even if someone did, I wouldn’t know how to answer anyway.
The night continued, with more conversations and laughing, until it slowly started becoming easy, for a while at least. The table smelled of spice, garlic, and soju. Someone spilled beer, while someone else made a bad joke. I laughed until my cheeks hurt, pretending that was enough.
When the night ended, we hugged like we always did, and I basked in their embrace. Talia smelled like honey and cigarettes, and Mara told me she loved me, like she did every Friday. Itmade me smile and reminded me that I always had an “I love you” waiting for me at the end of the week. Though now, it just made me guilty, almost to the point of crying.
I decided to take a walk instead. Why? I couldn’t pinpoint a single reason tonight, though I had many of the usual ones to pick from. Enjoy the cold? So I could be familiar with it? Enjoy the view? Appreciate the Christmas decorations? Or pay my last respects to the streets that harbored me for five years…that was my favorite reason.
As I continued walking, watching the world melt into streaks of light, I felt my phone buzz.
You up?
I stared at the message for a long moment, my thumb hovering over the screen. I hoped some kind of emotion would surface, but absolutely nothing came.
Sure.
I sent a reply after taking a deep breath.
Fifteen minutes later, I was outside his apartment. My mascara was smudged from the rain, but I didn’t care. My mind was numb, though my brain begged my pussy to be wet for one last fuck.
I was about to pull out my phone and text him to let him know I was here, but of course he was waiting on the front step when I arrived. He stood there shirtless, smiling with a lazy, confident, little smile like he always did. It was the kind of smile that used to make me weak, before I realized how hollow it was.
Nothing…that’s what I felt when his hands slid over my body,grabbing my breasts in the rough way he liked. When his lips brushed the side of my neck, biting just hard enough to leave a bruise, but gentle enough that the bruise won’t last the next 24 hours, my body didn’t respond. When his hand snaked down to my skirt and slipped into my pussy, I felt…nothing. Just the usual ache in my chest that wasn’t from desire but from exhaustion.
