Eight Years Ago
Sitting on the laughably called ‘bed’ in my room, it was just a futon on the wooden floor. I thought about what had happened with Valkyr. I was alone in my room again, the faint scent of Valkyr still lingering in the air as if to mock me. My cheeks burning with humiliation and guilt from the tongue lashing I had gotten from whom I considered my closest friend.
At first we had both avoided talking of old times. Too afraid to pick that scab and start the bleeding again. He told me about his modelling jobs, about how……