Dichotomy.

Love is such a stupid word.

It doesn’t even mean anything; it’s just a word.

Four letters, one syllable.

Love, love, love.

Give me a break.

It holds about the same weight as the word hate.

Hate.

And there’s only one person I really hate, in all depths and senses of the word…

Being nice doesn’t work, not that I’d been expecting it to.

So I’ll just be indifferent.

I don’t care anymore.

I don’t-

“Ouch,” she scowls at me, rubbing her arm.

“Sorry,” I mumble back, vaguely realizing I’ve rammed into her just outside the dressing room. I barely glance at her before walking past.

“I know what you’re doing,” she calls after me. “Stop it.” I turn back around to study her.

She said it changes nothing, but the truth is, sex changes everything, and she knows it just as well as I do.

“What?” I ask blankly.

“Stop…” she starts, sounding flustered. “Acting weird,” she fumbles to finish.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” I state, just to be obnoxious. I cross my arms and raise an eyebrow at her.

“You’re pretending not to hate me,” she says. She’s annoyed; she has that look on her face she only gets when I’m pissing her off without even trying.

“So?” I say, shrugging.

“So…” she says, trailing off uncomfortably. Her gray eyes search my brown ones, but I stare back blankly. Then the sheer annoyance on her face is replaced by something else, something much darker and more complex.

She abruptly pulls my head to hers, impulsively crushing her lips against mine. I respond by lightly pushing her backwards into the dressing room.

And here I was, thinking this whole situation was mostly stupidity on my own part.

A smirk pushes itself onto my lips when I hear her stifled moan against my mouth.

Her face is flushed red when she pushes me away.

“Just because I’m being nice to you doesn’t mean I hate you any less,” I state matter-of-factly, as indifferent as I can manage while I’m trying to catch my breath.

“Good,” she replies, sounding as light-headed as I feel. She barely looks at me. Instead, her eyes skim the dressing room, the once-nice sofas and empty tables that will house our rider later tonight.

But I don’t waste time before parting her lips with my tongue again. She smells like peaches and her lips are soft and pliant. Her fingernails skim my scalp lightly as she runs her fingers through my hair. It feels nice.

The truth is, I’m surprised she hasn’t slapped me by now, even though she started it in the first place.

She finally locks eyes with me, one hand still in my hair and her other on my belt. Her eyes flick to the door behind me, which I lock without a second thought.

She gives a sharp intake of breath when I start kissing lower and lower down her neck while my hands follow suit, inching lower and lower down her hips-

Kellie always hated when I kissed her neck, some irrational paranoia about hickeys, or something...

And when was the last time I had any kind of thoughts pertaining to Kellie…?

And why now, when the last thing I need is for something to kill the mood-

Tina’s hands tug at my belt suggestively, bringing my thoughts back around.

Fucking reckless.

I hear the words as clearly as if she’s said them again like she did the morning after we-

We’re abruptly startled apart by a jostling noise at the door.

I turn towards the door as I re-adjust my belt and flatten my hair in the back.

“Close c-“ I say, turning back around to face her.

-only she’s already gone through the other door, which I see swing shut.

I go to unlock the door, opening it to find a confused Spencer on the other side, with my head still spinning and my heart still pounding with pure confusion.

Rewind to before she was in my head, before I allowed her to drive me insane.