Hamartia

“I'm sorry, does my social ineptitude bother you?”

I gave the auburn-haired guy beside me a glare which he blatantly returned with a bemused smile. On normal circumstances, I would have been more than glad to hear his remarks on the Ryan Adams CD collection that was poking out of my hand-carry luggage but my flight was two hours delayed and my phone was dead and his persistency to start a conversation in a poorly-ventilated establishment wasn't helping my anxiety at all.

He flicked his nose ring, probably out of habit, and heaved a sigh. His eyes lingered outside for awhile, where the two o'clock sun showed no mercy on the parched land. “Perfect day for a beach party, isn't it?”

Oh God, not the crappy weather conversation.

He chuckled lightly to himself. “Alright, maybe not.” He diverted his gaze to me. “So where are you headed to?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. He wasn't done talking to me yet? I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and turned to face him. “Look,” I started. “I'm about to have a meltdown here because my scumbag of a boyfriend won't show up for my sister’s bridal shower and I have no idea what to tell my mom why 'the nicest guy I've ever dated' would rather have his testicles cut off than attend a goddamn ceremony in--,”

“In which case I shall ask you, does he really have balls considering what circumstance he is putting you in?”

I gaped at him, completely taken-aback by his sudden bluntness. His teal eyes held me captive for a good thirty seconds that felt more like an eternity but I'm not going through with that poetic crap. “I... I think--,”

“ROBIN!”

I looked over my shoulder to see Veronica pathetically trying to adjust her bag on her shoulder while running towards me with her three-inch stilettos. Really, who travels with that?

She didn't give me a room to react when I was tackled into a bone-crushing hug. Her arms were so skinny that you'd feel like you're being hugged my twigs instead. But I didn't tell her that. I couldn't afford to see her throw a fit in an airport, could I?

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I sneered almost breathlessly.

She giggled, dropping her Coach leather bag on the tiled floor. “Fancy seeing you here, too.”

I stared at him and didn't even try to mask my annoyance by her unexpected arrival. She was a friend-- term loosely used-- but she was the bane of my existence ever since she decided it was a brilliant idea to shag my boyfriend while I was filling up some college applications in my room. It was three months ago and apologies were said but for fuck's sake, I still wanted to rip her head off. Why she hugged me, I didn't exactly know why.

“So,” She purred, glancing behind me. “Who's that yumm-eh lad right there?”

I took a deep breath to calm myself and resolved to just being quite because at times like this, I just couldn't trust the things that might come out of my mouth. I wouldn't answer her question, unless she wanted to have a reality check: she was so fake, she put her own breasts in shame.

She had moved in front of the Ryan Adams fan boy who was just quietly sitting there behind me and, by the time I looked back, was already shamelessly flirting with him. He, on the other hand, looked like he was about ready to run a mile away from her and his expression had the word HELP written all over it.

I would've told him it was okay to hit her but I figured he wouldn't do such thing so I decided to take the matters in my own hands. “Go spread some STDs somewhere else, Veronica.”

She laughed, a humorless one that irked me to no end and looked down at me in such a pitiful manner that I had to restrain my hands from punching her right on her goddamn face. “Your relationship with him is just another heartbreak waiting to happen.”

Her phone's ringing cut me off before I could even say anything. She dramatically help up a finger and flipped her phone. “Hey, commando. Yeah, I'm already here. Why don't you check in your luggage first and proceed here in the waiting area? I have a surprise for you.”

I took the opportunity to give the guy, who was still miraculously rooted on his spot, an apologetic stare because that was all I could do at the moment. He nodded solemnly in return.

“Ben is on his way here, Robin,” She said, flipping her phone off. “We're going to Malibu and be romantic and stuff. He said you've always wanted to go there. Is it true?” She kept on talking about how perfect everything will be for their getaway and the whole ambiguity of what she was saying made me want to throw up.

I sat back down and blocked her out.

Then by the time I looked up, I've never imagined that I would come to a point where I would have this really strong desire to kill somebody.

“Robin?”

The atrocity of the situation just went up a thousand knots as Ben, my boyfriend, the nicest guy I've ever dated-- or so my mother had thought-- stood in front of me, his arm wrapped securely around Veronica's waist.

“I... I thought your plane left two hours ago and--,”

“You fucking bastard.” I spat the words at him, each letter laced with venom that I wished would kill him right on the spot. I wished I had more to say but his audacity to break my heart so unabashedly left me completely at loss for words.

I didn't even need to say it. We were over and I had my first real heartbreak in a crowded airport where everything else seemed relatively normal.

They had their dramatic exit after Veronica shot me a mischievous grin. Ben looked over his shoulder every once in a while as they walked to to the other side of the waiting area but I didn't care. He left me apathetic and I wanted him and everything that had to do with him to obliterate as soon as possible.

My plans going to Arizona without him seemed frivolous at one point but it turned out that it was probably the best decision I would ever be making. Maybe even stay in Arizona for good.

“Hey.”

I felt something nudge my arm but I suddenly found watching a crying infant a few meters from me completely enthralling that I didn't even bother to look at that Ryan Adams fan boy.

“I know it's always what people say but it's going to be alright, you know? Shit happens quite--,”

“Just,” I squeezed my eyes shut and put my finger on his lips. I wasn't really thinking but to say that feeling his soft lips against the skin of my forefinger wasn't nice would be a lie. “Just stop talking.”

This was perversion at its finest.

He mumbled a quiet sorry before putting on his earphones and frantically swiped his thumb around the clickwheel of his iPod. I didn't mean to snap but my head was such a messy place at the moment and the last thing I wanted to do was to involve myself in a little talk with a stranger who may or may not be deranged.

I was mindlessly tapping my fingers on my lap and I might just as well be chanting the Lord's prayer backwards just get my mind off of things.

“Are you headed to Arizona as well?”

His voice broke me out of my ennui. For some reason my throat had dried up so I just nodded.

“Well, there's this show tomorrow and I was hoping you'd want to come. I mean, if it won't clash with your sister's bridal shower.” He looked at me expectantly.

I gulped down almost half of the content of my bottled water before capping it again. “What makes you think I would go there, though?”

He smiled, almost leaving me in a trance.

“I heard they have a hot bass player.”