So this might be a bit of a complicated one, because it involves someone from my past. This is someone you only know as FUCK BOY, and I feel like I need to do a bit more explaining first before I fill you in on the gossip. It has been over a year since I had last seen fuck boy, and although he is not the most attractive bachelor in London there was something. Maybe it was his eyes, or his smile, or the thickness of his hair. We met in the halls of residence in my second year of university, and we just hung out. He had a girlfriend, and although I was single nothing went down other than harmless flirting. When we were in a room together it was easy, we were put into some weird situations but it never went further. Around this point in time, there was a guy around (who is now my ex) that I had troubled history with, and in November 2015 he came to London and told me he loved me, and that was the end of fuckboy and I. Except in everyone else’s mind it wasn’t, my partner couldn’t leave the idea alone. But I tried to think nothing of it, which obviously did not help. Now there is a part of this story that I tend to leave out, which the ex certainly does not. But in April, four months into my new relationship fuckboy had ended his and paraded other women in front of me. Fuckboy had informed me that he was taking a trip to Wales (my home) for a few gigs, and it was safe to say that I was excited to show someone else my home, and where I had grown. The ex obviously hated it blah blah blah a few arguments were had, but I wasn’t backing down on this, in my head it was innocent. Until we got to Wales, and the ex had found out that this trip was planned, and not unexpected or a coincidence. Fuckboy had set up this tour, why I do not know… It was that weekend that we had kissed, some shit had happened along the way but that is for another story.
So that leaves us with here we are now… A year later, I’m single, fuckboy is single and everything is fucked.
Fuckboy had blanked me up until last week, where he sent me a stupid little message that I did not give a kind response to. Alongside this I had my aggy mother persistently calling me, and hitting the decline button a few times didn’t seem to deter her either. Then the text messages start coming through, she was worked up about something, and wanted me to call her back. I was just not in the mood, it was early afternoon, I had just risen and had to start getting ready for work. I had no time for her antics, but as my mother showed no sign of quietening down I did the best things that any daughter can do; cave.
My stalker mother informed me that fuckboy was playing a gig that night five minutes from where I lived, and that I obviously had to go. Unfortunately my presence was required slaving away in work for the evening, but mother demanded that I call in sick. A mother, my mother had told me to shun all responsibility, not go into work, get into trouble for calling in sick six hours after you’re supposed to and go out, watch gigs with boys and get drunk. My refusal seemed boring, as if I did not live on the wild side at all. I understand that I haven’t been the most exciting person as of late, but I was quite tempted to go. Let’s just say by the end of that phone call it was decided that Lola was going to the ball. I had rung in sick to work, using the one excuse that does not involve much questioning or faking a sick voice; diarrhoea. Was told off for not calling in at the specified time, but fuck it cause who plans sickness, it can hit you at any time! Also feel like was being scrutinised over telephone and not being believed, but hey I wasn’t going into work and the next stage was getting someone to come with me!
The major plan I had in my head was that I was going to show with a few people, sit in a corner, be all mysterious and act like I had no idea. Then he would approach me, and it would be so random and not freaky? So I called up my party friend, who definitely cannot say no to anything. The problem was that she was on her way into work, which was a bit awkward considering we work in the same place. The next one I called was on his way out of the country. The third one was moving out of her apartment. And then I was out of options. I even resorted to try and bribe some people from uni that I secretly hate. So there it was… I wasn’t going after all and I had wasted an evening of slaving away. Spoke to a friend on the phone, who claimed was being total irrational butthead and needed to relax, and just text him. I was out of options, and I really didn’t want to diverge from my plan BUT WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO DO!!!
So messaged him nice and casually, describing that I had seen he was playing a gig five minutes from where I lived. Apparently he was surprised, not sure why as I had discussed with him where I was living before, but obviously he is a dick boy who does not listen to anything I say. But he told me that he was going to try and get me on the guest list, so I was actually being invited, without actually being invited yet. The question that I was dreading came next, was it going to be just me or was it Lola and a plus one? Fuck, could not tell him that I was coming on my own because no friends, because that’s what it would like, and would it not be strange and stalkerish? But then going on my own sort of forces a situation… needed to play this casually and smoothly. So told him to put down two, just incase I bring a date.
NEW PLAN OF ACTION: