I didn't get a wink of sleep last night, and this time it wasn't the sleep paralysis, or the nightmares or the insomnia it was that smirk. I'm beginning to resent the colour green. Mum left this morning, hungover as all hell, as usual pretending like nothing happened, but I'm savouring having this small window of time where I have the house to myself, I even took a few days of paid leave from work starting tomorrow that I had saved up just to really enjoy the peace and quiet. Currently though, I'm trying to eat my toast and mind my own business, sitting on the couch, which isn't going well. I have a pair of eyes glued to me, with a wheezing snout about an inch from my face watching my hand move to and from my mouth each time I take a bite. I glance sideways, as I take a slow bite into my half eaten slice of peanut butter toast, chewing as I watch Gizmo stare at me with eyes that look like he belongs on one of those ads on TV for starving children in third world countries. "Fine" I mutter in defeat, handing him my toast which he inhales - not chews. Inhales. Like I said, I'd starve for this dog. I'm undecided about what to do until I have to start getting ready for work, but as I stare around the house I figure I may as well clean, I don't have much energy for it any more. Just opening my eyes of a morning seems far too overwhelming, and mundane daily tasks become the monumental mountains towering over me that seem impossible to climb. I remember a time when things like doing dishes, or making myself food didn't seem like the equivalent of trying to rip my own fingernails off, just thinking about it seems to drain the energy I already don't have. I suppose it doesn't help when I have the person living with me that's like a vampire that solely thrives on sucking any motivation or energy I have - feasting on it until she's engorged and bloated while I'm left emaciated and emotionally crippled, in her eyes, my only purpose of existing is to do what she wants, to serve her. I am in debt and owe her my life because she gave mine to me, I'm hers, I don't belong to myself. It's hard to find meaning or a point in existing when you were never given any self worth or reason to be here aside from benefiting someone else. Gotta love mothers. I get to be free briefly this week though, that's all I can really focus on for now. I pull up off the couch, Gizmo immediately sniffing where I was sat to scour for any crumb I may have dropped, I swear if it wasn't for his weight people would think I don't feed him with how he carries on. I go to the stereo, deciding I need some kind of musical motivation to get shit done around here and connect my phone to the Bluetooth, selecting one of the many playlists I spend way too much time curating. I take my playlists very seriously, it's a thing, can't help it. I turn the volume up, listening to the music fill the air and it's like instantly everything else in my mind gets washed away and I get lost in the song - but how couldn't I? It's Bohemian Rhapsody. I walk around the loungeroom, instantly singing way too obnoxiously for someone that can't hold a note better than a dying cat, and that's dressed in just a shirt and fluffy slippers with dog heads on them. "Mama, oh oh (anyway the wind blows) I don't want to die Sometimes wish I'd never been born at all" I point at gizmo who is now laid on the couch, staring at me, singing loudly to him as I tidy up, but mostly get too distracted by the song. "Bismillah, we will not let you go, let him go!" I throw my hands in the air, getting ready for my favourite part of the song and start bouncing on the spot, before the music drops and then those electric guitars start blaring while I start thrashing my hair back and forth, jumping around my loungeroom and quite frankly playing the best air guitar I think anyone has ever seen. As the music slows back down, I sway my head softly, pointing at Gizmo again, singing to him. "Nothing really matters Anyone can see Nothing really matters Nothing really matters to meeeee" "Except you bubba" I tell him when the song finishes, smiling but my brows crease when I see him glancing behind me. I spin on my heel and stop dead, screaming at the top of my lungs, jolting and waving my hands in shock near my head "What the fuck!" I clutch my hands to my chest, staring with dinner plate eyes at the fucking smirk standing in my front door way, with the door wide open, leant lazily against the frame. I'm sorry, is he the human version of herpes? Because I just can't seem to get rid of him. Not to mention apparently he's a stalker as well? Is this the universes way of punishing me? Was I some kind of genocidal dictator in a past life? Was I Hitler? Is that what this is? "What are you doing in my fucking house!" I shriek in horror. Smirky looks completely unfazed, just watching me with an amused expression, dressed in a black button dress shirt - which seems pointless since he hasn't used half the damn buttons, with black jeans that tight I'm surprised his brain has blood circulation. "Getting a free concert apparently" he says casually, raising his brows as his smirk deepens, taunting me with that bullshit dimple. The colour drains from my whole body, before shooting straight to my face and tinting it about ten shades darker, and I just stare at him frozen. He saw that? How much of it? Can I please, if there is a god with any mercy, can I please have a fatal stroke right now? I'm begging you. I go to shout again but my words die in my throat when Frankie slides past him into my house, giving me a bright smile before biting his lip and pointing at me "Hey sunshine, been working out? You look flushed" Why is Frankie bringing that green eyed man whore into my bloody house! I point to my doorway, where Goldilocks's British brunette brother is, glaring at Frankie "What is that smirky asshole doing in my house? You know I don't let anyone come here Frankie" Frankie freezes in his steps, looking remorseful immediately - he knows I don't let anyone come to my house aside from him, no one knows about my mother and I like to keep it that way. "Hey I'm right here you know" the smug prick muses from my doorway, not sounding in the least bit offended, just entertained. I glare at him now, squinting my eyes "Yes, you're in my doorway smirky, congratulations" I look back to Frankie who goes to speak, but the British accent cuts in. "Harry" I shoot my eyes back to him, scrunching my face up "What?" "My name is Harry" he smiles tilting his head coyly, dragging the tip of his tongue over his lower lip as he seems to revel in the fact I look like I'm about to have a conniption. "Good for you?" I reply, squinting and raising my brows like I can't understand why I needed to know that. "Do you two know each other?" Frankie's voice cuts in, looking and pointing between us like he's trying to figure out Harrys amusement and my hostility. I quickly blurt out "No" at the same time that Harry says "Yes" and Frankie looks suspiciously between us. "Drew might not recognise me, seems to have a habit of being selectively blind" Harry says, looking from Frankie to me with a lazy satisfied smile and my mouth drops as I stare at him. Just give me one slap. That's all I'm asking, just let me slap that god damn cocky look off his face. "What are you-" I cut off Frankie's confused question, bursting in frustration while I screw my eyes shut and throw my hands in fists down by my sides. "Why is he in my house Frankie!"