Last Regret

Brendon was taking me out tonight. Brendon was taking me out tonight and I had nothing to wear. I had went through my closest three times in hopes of finding something to wear, but I'd come up empty each time. Brendon had already called twice, once to tell me the time and once to ask if I was ready. I of course was not. And on top of that I was having second thoughts about the whole thing.

I wasn't sure if my outing with Brendon was a date or not, but going out with a rockstar was not the best way to fade away. And that was what I desperately needed to do. I had gotten countless phone calls from "friends" who weren't sympathetic in the least bit. Instead they had made sure to tell me how long Cole had been cheating and how blind I had been.

Somehow in a situation where I appeared to be the victim, I had still been wrong. The clothes I wore tonight didn't matter, I was still wrong.I had been wrong since the day I was born and everyone I knew made sure to remind me, that although people made mistakes, I made the most. The doorbell rings--snapping me out of my internal oration-- and against my better judgment I open the door in just a bathrobe.

"You look great!" Brendon says enthusiastically and I shoot him a glare. Brendon chooses to ignore it.

"Why aren't you dressed yet?" he asks, leaning against the door frame.

"Um...I think eight o'clock is too early so-"

"You're nervous?" he asks, attempting to hide a smirk.

"No I'm not nervous. I'm just...I mean...I need clothes!" I exclaim, slamming the door shut and rushing back to my room. I look frantically around my room for something to wear as Brendon pushes the front door open.

"Alexis, that was really mean," Brendon whines from outside and I roll my eyes. I untie my bathrobe and pull on a blue shirt.

"You almost done?" he asks impatiently, as I grab a pair of jeans.

"Yeah," I mumble, pulling open the door. I smile nervously at Brendon, who's studying a picture frame.

"What's that?" I ask, racking my brain for which picture that might have been. All of my pictures of Cole and I had been taken down and I certainly didn't have my own pictures up.

"Is this him?" Brendon asks, turning the frame towards me.

It was a picture of Cole and I, after our one year anniversary. He had taken me out to a restaurant, with horrible food and we had walked home together, holding hands. Cole had half-drunkenly named it the best night of his life and insisted on documenting the moment. He took a quick picture of us with his phone, smiling too wide and me, holding on too tight.

I didn't have the courage to take the picture down, because that was the night I had really fallen in love with him. We had spent the night at Cole's loft talking about everything and nothing. And when I had shyly confessed my feelings, Cole had reciprocated them with no hesitation.

What happened to that?

The picture meant too much to me and I refused to believe that the Cole I had fallen in love with had changed so much. I walk over to Brendon and slam the picture down on the table.

"Don't touch that," I hiss and Brendon gives me a guilty look.

"I'm sorry, you just...you looked really happy. See-" he mutters, reaching for the picture again.

I slap Brendon's hand away, "don't touch it."

"But-"

"Drop it, okay? Forget about the stupid picture." Brendon sighs and glances at the picture once before mumbling okay.

"So, can we go?" I ask and Brendon nods, although he glances at the picture again before heading for the door.