the sooner they come the harder they bum

Charlie was sitting in front of the coffeehouse. very sad and wasted after the other night's party. it had been her 27th birthday, the longest and saddest party of all.

there had been all her friends best and worst, declared and alleged enemies. all the people she had met during her stay in that life had come to celebrate her 2.7 version release.

the night had passed and she was all alone on an alley in front of the used-to-be-her-b-day-party-location. she was holding a plastic coffee cup yet oddly enough it was not filled with coffee, but with whiskey.

she took one sip, grunted as hell and felt the harsh burning sensation down her throat. she tried to spit it all out. and then she remembered: it had been him who had given her the cup. right before he had left. he muttered some: happy wishing to you my love, and gave her the cup as if it had been some sort of very expensive gift that she should have treasured forever.

that ugly tiny sip made it all profusely come back to her: the 2.7 release, the friends to whom she had shown only part of herself and had no clue of who she really was, the good time she had wasted and the bad time that had detained her from wasting more good one, the people hating her for what she had never been, the ones loving her for exactly the same cause, the boyfriend she loved for all the wrong reasons (he wasn't the right guy after all, but that was even more no excuse for her oblivion).

she kneeled down to forensicaly examine the pavement in search of a revelation, an epiphany...it failed to appear like everything else she had expected. the sun was rising up over the buildings and over her head as well. and so did the awaited sign: her phone beeped.

boyfriend calling:

Hi babe, I have misplaced my plastic cup. have you seen it?

I'm holding it and was about to throw it away. need it?

Badly.

Oops, I've dropped it. sorry. you should get another one. besides, it was plastic anyway. i thought you didn't like cheap.

not when it comes to people, but objects i can handle. speaking of cheap, you looked lovely last night. i bet you still do, even now hangovered as hell. you were quite the drinker.

only celebrating. you know me, i need to reinstate myself every year.

as a drunk?

as myself. i think this year i'm finally over you.

i bet this was your birthday wish. and i don't want to rain on your birthday parade, but it won't happen. you know you're hooked.

perhaps. but not by you. or with you. you just happened to represent what i thought i was looking for.

what a lovely theory. came up with that all by yourself? i'm sorry to say it, but you're not tough outside the words that make up this theory and you'll end up crying yourself to sleep over me. and it's a shame to do that. especially after having drunk so much last night. you'll give yourself a very bad headache.

what the fuck do you want, by the way? why did you call. you gave me the fuckin cup last night and told me it was my birthday present. thanks! it's nice. i'll take it home wit me. anything else?

yeah. i was thinking to fuck you up even more and sing some Van McCoy to you.

baby i'm yours? could you possibly be more of a sleazy jerk?

you know i have no limits when it comes to you. baby. in other words, until I die.

don't make me wish for that.

Charles, you have to get used to it: i'm here to hurt you, you're here to take it, i'm here to like it, you're here to fake it, but at the end of the day it's just me being here and you being nowhere without me.

(she clears her throat): so..will ya sing it? with the backing and all? until eternity?

i could. i can. are you sure you want me to?

until 2 and 2 is 3.

here it goes:

stop. don't. please. you'll just ruin it. can't you see that the beauty of it all is captured in that song only. you simply can't just go around and fuck people up with other people's songs.

i'll do a cover of it. just for you.

you can cover up your tracks and get out of my life. backwards. i'll let you wave me good bye. i'll even smile. and who knows? i even might play baby i'm yours as the soundtrack. just to make it a little emotional. and you know what? i'll even give you the cup back. cause there's nothing i want to from you. nothing else i mean. i got my birthday present, babe. i got myself back to me. so bye. in other words, until eternity

she lets the phone slip inside her back pocket and herself slip out of the alley.

the cup is watching her from behind as she walks away.