The music was blasting; the lights were blinding.

She gave another one of her fake smile to her friends as they continue to tell her about stuffs, which she couldn’t be bothered to actually listen.

Taking out her phone again, she frowned.

31 messages.

It started with only 10 messages from him, and then it just keeps increasing.

She told herself, this isn’t the right time to reply his texts since she’s with her friends. But deep down, she knows it’s just an excuse.

Putting away her phone again, she took another sip of vodka from her cup, trying hard to concentrate on what her friends are talking about.

But time and time again, she will take out her phone and have a look.

Goodnight.

That was his last text.

And for some unknown reasons, she felt a sense of guilt creeping inside her.

She finally got home; he was already asleep.

His sleeping figure made her even more uneasy.

Stepping forward, she brushed his bangs away, giving him a peck on his forehead as she mumbled a goodnight before she climbs into bed beside him.

The next morning, she finally understood why was she feeling so uneasy last night; why his goodnight actually sounds a little disappointed and hurt.

Because rather than a goodnight, it was actually a goodbye.

“I will be back. But right now, let us just both clear our heads.”

Pride took over her last night.

And this time, she will be the one sending him countless text whether he sees it or not, while waiting for him to come back to her side.