Author's Note: Here's my latest. I got a lot of flack for Always and Never from my male readers. Yes, men do get hurt in relationships. This is a look into the male side of a breakup. Enjoy.~n4m.
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There's a point in every relationship where things turn to complete shit. We pretend like we can't see it coming, when really we've avoided the signs like the drunk, obnoxious girl at the bar. We overanalyze every emotion and dissect every single detail, stripping things down to bare bones and all we're left with is the realization that it's all going to end and there's not a damn thing we can do about it.
I suppose the whole fucking mess started with REO Speedwagon. Most modern love stories start out with chance meetings, flowers, and a series of wacky misadventures culminating in a ridiculously unrealistic climax scene on some bridge or some wedding.
Well fuck that.
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Grady Kade squinted at his laptop screen in disgust. It was complete shit. The whole damn thing was utter trash. Moving quickly, he highlighted the text before erasing it completely.
He needed a cigarette, and badly. It was a habit he squashed a while ago, but recently he decided to flip health the finger and do what the fuck he wanted. Rubbing the scruffy hair on his chin that was trying so hard to be a beard, he rummaged through the crumpled papers on his desk in search of the rascally pack.
Opening the pack of menthols he took one out before patting his shorts pockets in search of a lighter. He settled for a stray book of matches hidden under more papers, striking the match and lighting the only thing keeping him from going batshit crazy.
He inhaled deeply, letting the nicotine do its thing. It'd been so long since he had a good smoke. Nearly a year and a half.
A year and six months exactly next week. Fuck.
And now the anxiety was back.
She hated that he was a smoker so he quit. If he would have known how things were going to turn out, he would've blown the smoke in her face and told her to fuck off.
Grady chuckled bitterly as he took another slow drag off the cig. He was so full of shit. He would've done anything to please her. And that was the problem. Three months later, he was still looking to please.
He shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. There was definitely a headache coming on. Every time his mind drifted to HER (as he'd taken to calling her in his head), a throbbing pain began to beat into his skull. It was painful to think about her, but he couldn't help himself.
"Dammit," he cursed. This wasn't helping his current situation. He needed to get this article finished. Nell, his editor was going to be up his ass if he didn't have it signed, sealed, and delivered to her office by ten the next morning. Grady glanced at the clock. Nine-thirty. He scoffed. He hadn't been home alone on a Friday night at nine thirty since his freshman year of college. It was laughable yet slightly painful to ponder.
He needed a fucking distraction.
His phone rang and he shuddered at the ringtone. REO Speedwagon; he needed to change that fucking thing. Too many memories behind it.
Wanting to silence the phone as quickly as humanly possible, he answered.
"Yeah?"
"Ahh, he's alive!"
"Fuck you," he grumbled.
A deep voice chuckled on the other end. "No thanks, baby. You're cute but you're not my type."
Grady grinned in spite of his irritation. "What the fuck do you want, Benny?"
"I want my best friend to stop being a whiny, moping bitch and come hang out with his boys."
"No can do. Got this article to finish."
Benny snorted. "Whatever. You are so full of shit. You write a guy's column in a chick magazine. It's not like you're covering Afghani trade agreements for fucking TIME. Just use one of those backup articles I know you have stored away somewhere and call it a day." Grady had to hand it to him. Benny knew him well.
He was a freelance writer for EDGE, one of the top women's magazines in the country. He was the voice behind the mag's most popular column, "The Go-To Guy", dispensing love and life tidbits for the female masses to gobble up. Women loved hearing about the supposedly "mysterious" interworkings of the male psyche. He was supposed to have something brilliant for Nell by tomorrow but his mind just couldn't focus. Writing for women just wasn't an option because currently he didn't give two shits about the female population.
So fuck it. Maybe going out and getting hammered with his boys was the cure. Deep down Grady knew this plan was full of fail, but he couldn't possibly spend another minute smoking cigarettes alone with his thoughts. "Fuck it. Let's do the damn thing."
"That's my boy!" Benny exclaimed. "Why don't we meet at Trinity in like an hour?"
Grady made a face. "Trinity? I thought we could go to Paddy's and pound back a few."
"Dude, you're single now for the first time in like a year. You've been tied to one vag for too long. It's time to get you over this whole Ed..."
"Don't say her name," Grady said sharply, cutting off his sentence. He felt his irritation bubble up inside his chest and he fought to keep his voice even. Come on Kade, he thought angrily. You're acting like a damn baby.
Apparently Benny agreed with him. "Ooookay. We'll play it your way, Harry Potter. As I was saying, it's time for you to get over this whole 'She Who Must Not Be Named' situation. The world is full of beautiful women just waiting to be fucked."
"You're a pervert," Grady said with a wry chuckle. "I'll be there in an hour. Call Tony and let him know the deets." He ended the call.
Grady lit up another cigarette. In his own twisted little way, Benny was right; he needed to get over this situation. But for some reason the anger over the turn of events stayed put, like an uninvited houseguest. Nearly a month later, he was still not over HER.
Edie. He was only comfortable speaking her name in his head.