Lovers Love, Liars Lie

Just because I seem like a heartless bitch doesn't mean I'm always one. Key words; always. Of course I have my moments, but I, nine out of ten times, regret those moments.

On the other hand, I never admit the regret, and I never say sorry to people. I guess that's why I only have one friend left. Her name is Kate, and I'm surprised she still associates herself with me. I've been nothing but problems, and yet somehow, she sticks around.

Half the time I think she feels bad for me, and feels like she has to try and fix me. She never will, I don't know why she hasn't learned by now. Sadly, despite the fact I wish I could care, I lie to her almost as much as I lie to everyone else.

I can't be changed though. I don't want to change, therefore I won't. It makes me wonder sometimes why people waist their time on a useless cause; because that's exactly what I am, a useless cause.

At the moment, I was in my bathroom staring into my mirror, trying to decide who I would be tonight. Every now and then I felt like I had a multiple personality disorder. I would choose certain characters to use over and over, all at different places, or even the same ones.

What's good about me is my memory. I can remember almost every name I've used, what places I've used them at, and who met me where. Mainly I remember faces. If I've seen you once, I'll probably remember you. That can be good and bad; bad for you mostly.

"Are you ready yet?" Kate asked, walking slyly into my bathroom. She was in high heels and revealing clothes. No matter my stages of drunkenness, I never started out or ended up as slutty as her.

"Yep." I replied, putting the finishing touches on my make-up. We headed down stairs, our goal set on the front door.

"Where are you going?" The voice came from the arm chair in the living room. There, slumped in the chair with a book in hand, my dad sat, eyeing me over the top of the pages. He was always snoopy like this.

"Out." I replied, knowing I was being bitchy. Sometimes it killed me to act like this to him. He's probably the best dad anyone could ask for, and here I am acting prude and ungrateful.

"Well where ever out is, make sure you're back by 1 a.m., please honey?" Nodding, I gave him a small smile and grabbed my purse before leaving the house.

That nod was another lie of mine. He went to bed by ten anyways, how would he ever know when I got back? If anything, it was just a way of pretending to maintain his control. After my mom died, he's been just as much of a wreck as I have been. Truthfully, I only see him maybe once a week.

I checked the contents of my wallet quickly. Fake ID? Check. Money? Check. Numbers of everyone to call when I'm drunk? Check. This was going to be a typical Saturday night for me, consisting of going to a club with Kate, making a bunch of fake friends, lying my ass off, and crashing home.

I can't wait.

&&

"So I was chatting around, and I got us invited to an after party thing." Kate said, as if trying to impress me. Currently though, I was mad at her. She ended taking me to this concert instead if a club so she could try to flirt with this guy she met on MySpace. Lame.

"What, did you flash someone?" I asked bitterly. She glared at me. We were more frienemies than actual friends. It was this back and forth all the time.

"Whatever, Taylor… or wait, what's your name tonight?" She was really pissing me off now. She smirked, as if she had won, and continued to talk, "So are you coming or not? I figure if they're more new people you can fuel your lying addiction."

Swallowing the mean reply I had, I just nodded and forced a fake smile. As she led me out the door of the arena, I finally spoke to her again, "Where ever we're going, it better have some fucking alcohol and boys."

"Don't worry." Kate assured me, "There's going to be a lot of boys there. And there is one in particular that I want to introduce you to."