Are You Stalking Me?

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After having painted 15 of his portraits, I completely gave up on painting. It was like my brain was obsessed with that man. I admit that it was partially my fault for listening to his music on repeat (maybe I should stop), but it was also because I had to have meetings with him and his team every few days. The stupid project dragged on for over a month.

He kept popping up in my office with new requests and ideas. It got so bad that I automatically started bringing two cups of coffee with me every morning. He had Pavloved me into his little assistant, basically, and I hated his guts for it.

After the dreaded month was over, and all our meetings were finally done because we had finalised every possible piece of merch and every last bit of my designs, he didn't even thank me. He just shook my hand goodbye and that was it. If looks could kill, he'd have died a long time ago.

At the end of that final day, I called up Sam and asked her if she wanted to celebrate with me. She didn't even ask what we were celebrating, she just agreed. Though, I have to say that she's always game when it comes to drinking.

"I brought almond tequila," she said when I let her into my apartment.

"And I love you for that. I bought us rum and Coke. And also, lots of snacks," I told her.

"You're amazing."

"I know."

"So, I forgot to ask, but what exactly are we celebrating?" She finally asked.

"Andrew Biersack is finally out of my life," I took a big sip of my drink.

"How can you be so sure?" She asked.

"We finished the Vale project today. There is nothing else he needs from me right now."

"Yeah, but didn't you say that the contract his band has with your company won't end for another two years?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Therefore, the next time they release a new album, you'll be seeing him again."

"Okay, fine. He is out of my life for the time being. Better?" I asked.

"Let's drink to that!"

We finally toasted to my achievement and proceeded to take four shots of the magical drink known as almond tequila. I absolutely loved it. It was so sweet and tasted like Christmas.

We talked about her future plans and travels, then Ronnie's upcoming release party, her obsession with him and what she would wear to the party. Basically, we only focused on her. And it was absolutely fine that way, because I've spent too much time dwelling on my problems in the past couple of weeks.

We played drinking games and talked until 4 AM. By then, we were out of tequila and rum, so we decided to call it a night. I don't really remember much from that night, but I do remember the ghastly hangover I had the next day. I was lucky that we decided to drink on a Friday and that I didn't have to go to work hungover. We stayed in my bed until lunch time when I ordered a pizza. We ate it in silence and then went back to bed. We slept until 9 PM, when my phone rang.

"Yeah?"

"Sweetie, Amy Biersack sent me photos of your designs. You did such a good job! I'm very proud of you," she said over the phone.

"Thanks mom, but couldn't this wait until morning?"

"Are you alright? You sound sick."

"Just a bit hungover."

"Sophie Anne Williams, aren't you a bit too old for hangovers?" She asked me in her annoying mom voice.

"Thanks for the concern mom, but it is none of your business. I'll call you tomorrow."

Cliché (Andy Biersack)Where stories live. Discover now