past times
People so different, he famous, she a nobody. He arrogant, cold and romantic, she fun, warm and passionate. Amazing how fate always finds a way to bring two people together in an indescribable way; Jessie is a girl like any other and all that blah blah blah. Alex is not a boy like any other and all that blébléblé..
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You live in New York, you have famous friends, your ex is one of the most eligible guys in the music business - according to Kerrang. Your life is perfect right? Wrong, New York is so much more than Starbucks coffee cups and taxis, here you have to chase what you WANT and what you NEED! I learned by living here with my mistakes, you will learn from me!
"You don't like my hair?" She pulled her thin lip, slightly flushed from the hot drink, into a smile from the corner of her mouth. She was the one to tell him that. "It's wet, I don't like the feeling" she sighed. Her favorite cinnamon cappuccino was cooling on the table. "The gel makes my hands sticky" amends with a tiny smile on her lips. "First, it's not gel. And second, you're the only one complaining, Ayleen" He scored with amusement. His eyes focused on hers. "I'm the only one who tells the truth" She responds with a smile on her lips, lacing her fingers around the glass, bringing it to her mouth. He smiled. She could feel it by the way his breathing quickened, letting out a measly sound accompanied by a sigh. She liked to annoy him. His hair sure was pretty. Ayleen was sure she would find it cute if she could see.
And I was absolutely sure I didn't want to see him again, I'm here in a cold sweat and with not a slight palpitation. stupid oxytocin
Chronicles inspired by the works from the album 'Favourite Worst Nightmare' by the English independent band Arctic Monkeys
A young teenager, sometimes in love, sometimes hating everything and everyone, walks through the streets of the city discovering things, looking for something that will make him continue on this endless walk. Which can make him discover things, anxieties and sensations never experienced before.
Paralyzed for a moment, I remained silent. But I wasn't thinking about what to say. Couldn't think. I could only wonder why the hell I'd come up with this damn idea. I wish that reason had detonated my heart in that internal war, so that I wouldn't find myself, at that moment, petrified, staring like an idiot at a fixed point in the window, not knowing what to say.