Catherine

"You never talked to me that way before." Running his fingers through his hair, he started walking my way. I willed myself to stay at where I was standing and waited for him. Unlike the last time I saw him, in the arms of another man, he looked like he got himself put together this time.

"I would have asked you on how you're doing if you didn't make that commentary about the people I socialize with." He raised an eyebrow and looked at me from head to toe.

"Socialize you say? Have you been really? Or have you been doing more than mingle?" He raised a hand, perhaps to touch my face but I took a step back.

"What I do with my time is none of your concern. Never was, never will."

"I was the only one you had. You barely communicate with your family. And the only friend you have is screwing your sister behind your back." Chuckling, he leaned on the brick wall serving as the apartment's fence and waited for my reaction.

"I never had you. You, of all people, should know that." My reply was quiet but from the way his jaw tightened, I know he heard.

"You had me, Catherine. You just didn't give me all of you. That's what relationships are for. You give." I tried keeping a straight face, but I couldn't help it. It was my turn to laugh.

"Oh, Glen." Wiping a fake tear from the corner of my eye, I met his gaze. "See, even if I just read romance novels all day, I do know one thing; it's not just about the fandango. You can't just cha-cha your way to my pants and be mad at me for saying no. You weren't even asking. You were demanding. A little desperate if you ask me."

The redness of his ears were more evident as seconds of silence passed between us. I don't know if it was because of anger, or embarassment.

"I loved you." He sighed, giving up the arrogant act he put up.

"Not really." I smiled bitterly, shaking my head. "You loved the thought of having someone - how did you put it? Ah, yes. Proper. Someone who wouldn't embarass you in front of people. You wanted a woman, Glen. The problem is, you didn't know how to treat me like one."

"You're just making me feel guilty for leaving you." He murmured, his hands balling into fists.

"I left you. This - " A little afraid, I waved a hand as if the situation was a person in between us. "isn't what you call a healthy relationship. Or an ex-relationship for that matter. It's been months, Glen. What do you want from me?"

Looking around, I could see his nose flaring. Well now I know he's angry. "I. Don't. Know. I can't sleep at night and you're always in my head."

Sighing, I raised a hand and gently placed it on his cheek. "I believe that is what you call guilt."

And a little something that requires attention from a professional.

"I don't deserve this. I don't have to feel guilty for...for..." His voice faded as he tried getting the words out.

"Cheating on me? Treating me like a trophy? What? Tell me." Wow. Now that I actually said the thoughts running through my head the night we broke up, it kind of hurts a little. Not because I still have feelings for him. God knows that isn't the reason. And to be completely honest, I don't think I ever had feelings for him either. Or the other two lucky guys before him.

I just realized that I was being a hypocrite. I mentioned him using me as a trophy, when unconciously, I was doing the same thing. We were both trying to fit into society's standards on what to have and what not have that we ignored the obvious reason why people get into a relationship in the first place; not entirely love, but understanding.

"Glen?" He was staring at the pavement but I know he can here me. "You know what you did, didn't you? But it's over. And I'm over it. And you should try getting over it, too. It wasn't much. And I think we're both aware on what's happening. Maybe...you need to talk to somebody. Somebody who can help. Maybe you're just overthinking everything."

Swallowing a lump on his throat, he rubbed a palm to his face. "I need help." Mustering the courage, he faced me, his hands in his pockets. "Why are you like that?"

Frowning, I tried searching my brain on what adjective is that pertaining to.

"How'd you live with all the bullsh*t?"

Oh that.

Laughing a little, I looked at my hand. I can finally wear regular blouses now. The tattoo was gone and my armpits can see the light of day. "I wouldn't call them that."

Taking a shaky breath, Glen turned his head towards the apartment building. He might have saw something that scared him because he quickly looked at me. "I-I...so I think this is really goodbye huh."

"It was goodbye months ago." I smiled at him. "Get some help, okay? Promise me." I held one of his hands and squeezed it. From the brief time that we spent together, I noticed that he doesn't like it when things don't go his way. And right now, I know he's just trying tl make sense of it all. He wasn't used to people saying no to him.

He squeezed my hand back and nodded. Then he turned around and started walking.

Puffing air, it was my turn to walk away from him, the distance between Glen and I growing increasingly large with every step. I think this thing with life and moving on is like being in a zombie apocalypse. You know they're going to try and eat you. You just keep on running to keep yourself alive. And to keep yourself alive, you keep moving and you don't look back.

Damon

"He just crossed the street. Where are you?" With one hand holding my phone to my ear, I parted the curtains on Ellie's apartment a little. I waited as Mitchelle tried reasoning with me. "We're not going to harm him. Just scare him a little." Frowning, I listened as Mitchelle scolded me on how immature it was to put a man in The Garage for at least a night.

I don't know what's wrong with that. It was just going to be one night. Maybe throw in a succubus as a present for him.

"Look, I know I agreed on helping you but what you want to do to the guy is stupid. He's an ex-boyfriend. Ye see the x over the boyfriend? I sure as hell can. He's out of the game." Mitchelle's probably at my office, trying to help on the actual car business' clients.

I walked back to Ellie's living room and slumped down on the couch that we covered in white sheets. Looking down, I picked up one of the few cassette tapes Benjie has given me over the years. The old man knows his songs, alright. Elvis. Figures.

Tapping the tape on my thigh, I waited. It was normal to hear footsteps outside. But the familiar clickity clack of her not so high heels made me stand up. It stopped right infront of Ellie's door. Then there came the soft knocks.

"Who lives on an apartment and fogot his keys? Damon Grace, man!" I wouldn't have heard if I wasn't just a step away from the door now.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door, ready to tease her and as Mitchelle put it, be a fart ninja. Obvious. But not too obvious.

Well sh*t. I've been looking at her eyes for so long, I know exactly when something's bothering her.

"I have to tell you something." Her lips formed a thin line and she looked so determined, I almost smiled.

"Tell you what. How about we go drive a little, get some take-out, then tell me whatever it is that you're going to tell me." Holding her by the wrist, I noticed that the ink was already gone. Goodbye long sleeves. Hello Catherine's floral blouses, my old friend. Closing the door, she walked beside me as we made our way to my truck. I patted my back pocket, feeling the cassette tape that might come handy one of these days. You just never know.

I opened the door for her and she got in. I was about to walk to the driver's side when I paused. "Give me a minute." She frowned as I jogged away from the car. Just enough dis tancefor her not to hear what I'm about to say. Pulling out my phone, I called Mitchelle.

"Get the f*cking bastard to The Garage." I was gripping the phone, I had a feeling it would break. I didn't even understand what he was trying to say when I ended the call. I'm trying my best to make this woman happy and these *sshats just keep on coming.

I started heading back to the truck with a silent Catherine waiting inside. She doesn't talk much but this kind of silence was telling me something's going to happen.

"What's with the face, bonbon?" Starting the car, she gave me a smile.

"You have spaces for keychains but no space for our keys?"

I almost thanked the Big Guy when she gave me that reply. Why was she even overthinking about the keys?

"You know what we need? Music."

She quickly covered her ears and closed her eyes. "Oh glob, don't sing."

Well she sure knows how to lower a man's confidence.

Getting the cassette tape, which was luckily not  broken by being tucked in my back pocket when I sat down, I inserted it to my truck's cassette player. I know, I know. But you know what they say. Don't judge a man by his taste in music and stereo system.

When Catherine realized that I was not going to sing, she sighed in relief and removed her hands from her ears.

It took a while before the music started playing but when it did, I wanted nothing more than to hit my head on the steering wheel.

I thought I brought Elvis. Turns out, I grabbed Engelbert instead.

She just stared at the built-in casstte player as the music played, a smile on her face.

Now I have no choice but to work with what I have.

"Engelbert Humperdinck's my jam."