'texting people is great' i say as i look at a blank lock screen on my iphone

It’s Me (Part 2)

Hi Everyone! So glad you enjoyed the first part of this story. Here is the next part which takes place immediately where it left off! I’m leaving this open for the possibility of other one, so you will get closure in this story but if you would like other part (Maybe her conversation with Peta? Or something else), Let me know! Like/Reblog! And keep the comments coming :) I love reading them! 

After she had gotten dropped off at her house, instead of going inside-Sharna got right in her car. Peta had told her that he wasn’t home but she knew where she would find him. She drove to the dance studio where he and Normani had been having most of their rehearsals. She saw the light on in the corner studio and felt her heart rate pick up. She parked the car and got out, running towards the door. She walked up all four flights of stairs and slowed herself as she approached the door. It was open and she could see him inside, alone, running through his choreography , assessing each move. She poked her head in “Hey.” 

“Hey!!” He said excitedly. “What are you doing here?”

“Came to find you. Thought you might be here.”

Keep reading

Drunken Mistakes.

I rolled my eyes for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. My phone had been bombarded with drunken text messages from Marco which eventually led to the unanswered phone calls I didn’t bother to accept. I hit ignore each time and he simply left a voicemail, slurring his apologies.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Forgive me. I can’t live my life without you. I didn’t mean to yell at you the way I did. It was stupid. (groans and mumbles something incoherently) Just call me. Answer my text. Something! I’ll promise to do better.”

That was just one of the six voicemails left on my phone. Eventually, I had grown tired of listening to them.

Marco had stormed out of our home earlier after finding himself irritated by my ‘picking an argument with him’. I complained about him jetting off to enjoy some time away in Miami while I was left to take care of our two year old son alone. He didn’t like that.

He took it as me challenging him as a good father and boyfriend. I wasn’t challenging his role as a father in the slightest. Marco was everything and more for our son Dylan which was why he clung to him so much. But was I challenging the idea he was a good boyfriend?

Yes. After having my texts ignored instructing I wanted him home all of those nights and he instead paraded in bars with his friends, I thought it was fair to label him as absent. Rather than taking what I was saying and trying to understand, he immediately blocked me out and began adding fuel to the fire with his obnoxious yelling.

He had a way to twist my words to mean what he wanted them to mean, making me look as if I was the bad guy in the situation. But I had grown tired of it all. I had grown tired of all of the constant bickering. I knew he was dealing with a lot, mainly from deciding what his football future looked like and where it lied, but I couldn’t let him use that as an excuse to toss our relationship to the side.

He hadn’t bothered doing the little things he used to do like sending me sweet texts while he was away or getting bouquets sent to our home, or even randomly whisking me away to some date while a sitter watched Dyl.

I felt like he was taking me for granted and maybe now he was realizing it as he moved his stubby fingers against his iPhone keys in a drunken stupor but it was too late for me and I had settled on ignoring him until I felt it right for us to speak.

I moved from my comfortable spot on the couch and began to head to the kitchen only to hear my phone ring off one more time. I groaned and threw my head back in frustration, knowing that it was probably Marco ringing me again. I took deliberately slow steps and peered at the face-up screen to see Marcel’s name. Great, now he was using someone else’s phone to bother me.

I thought to ignore it at first but I instead answered, standing silently as I heard what sounded like muffles from the other side of the phone.

“Y/N?” I was surprised to hear the sound of Marcel’s voice instead of Marco’s. Why would he be calling? I could take a guess. “If you want me to come rescue Marco from some club, I’m not coming.”

I didn’t feel like being bothered and my tone expressed that but Marcel kept going. “It’s not that. He’s gotten into some trouble. I need you to come here. He got arrested for driving drunk. I tried to tell him to take a c—“ I was stunned but I had to make sure I heard him correctly.

“Wait what? He got arrested? Where is he? Will they let him out?” I spit out a million questions.

“Yeah just…come here when you can, ok?” Marcel said and I nodded, as if he could see me. “I’ll be right there,” I said before quickly hanging up and running into Dylan’s room to grab something for him to put on. I didn’t have anyone to watch him and it was a little last minute to call a sitter so he’d just have to accompany me unfortunately.

I felt like I sped the entire way there, eager to try and get Marco back home even though I was still upset with him. I held a sleeping Dylan close to my chest and entered the building, relieved to see Marcel heading my way.

“Hi,” I said lowly, not much in the mood for pleasant greetings though I was glad he was here to at least be with Marco while I wasn’t.

“Hey. He’s back here,” He nodded his head off in the direction we began walking in. I entered the depressing room to see a few people sitting around and I immediately recognized the now disorderly blonde locks of Marco who sat with his head hanging down.

There was so much we were going to have to deal with after tonight once he sobered up and on top of that, we now had to deal with the publications talking about his arrest for drunk driving. I was disappointed he would put his life and someone else’s in danger by being so irresponsible but I wasn’t going to lecture him at the moment. There would be plenty of opportunities for that.

“Marco.” Marcel called out his name and he immediately raised his head, his eyes somewhat red and his skin paler than usual. His eyes were blank until he locked onto me.

“You’re here?” he said in disbelief as if there was a possibility he had imagined my presence.

I simply nodded and took a seat, still cradling the young child comfortably in my arms while he remained asleep. I could see Marco peering over at him to make sure he was still asleep before he burst into his apology.

“I never meant to do something as stupid as this. I was just pissed at how you talked to me and I drank a little too much.”

Once again, I felt he was making me look to be the bad guy like it was my fault he was here because we got into an argument but I was going to remain as calm as possible in this room. “It was a really stupid decision but it’s your decision to make and you’re the one who will have to deal with the consequences.” My voice lacked any emotion on purpose.

He shook his head and began crying for what I knew wasn’t the first time tonight. “I fucked up.” I could tell he was still under the influence somewhat but I was sure he had sobered up upon his arrest. That was enough to jolt anyone into reality. “I know you’re still mad at me. I don’t expect anything different but please let me come home tonight. I don’t wanna sleep on Marcel’s couch,” he pleaded.

I could see Marcel standing behind him, trying not to burst into laughter as he put his hand over his mouth.

“You can come home. We’ll talk when you sober up.” I wasn’t in the mood to delve into our issues right now, especially not at a jail with Dylan in my arms. I stood up from my seat and headed off to begin the process of getting Marco out for the night, thinking of how we would confront our issues later.