"What?!" Tart yelled agitatedly after slamming the glass of water that she was drinking on the table.

I gave her an unpalatable glare after remembering the countless glasses and dishes she had broken every now and then.

She seemed to be enjoying too much in seeing things broken just as much as her heart been broken too. Or she's simply clumsy in her own fashionable ways.

Speaking of her klutziness, it was actually as highly competitive as my boss' clumsiness. If there would be a competition of the clumsiest people, they could team up and win without exerting an ounce of effort. No doubt. That's how dangerous they could potentially be, so putting them together in one place would be the most horrible idea one could think of. That person would be stupid. Definitely it wouldn't be me.

And when Tart was heartbroken, which would happen as frequent as her shopaholic illness attack, I couldn't trust her being alone in the kitchen during her grievances.

Otherwise, my not-so-many kitchen wares would end up like shattered pitiful pieces on the floor. Although, half of them were gifts from her. But still, they're not that many for reserves. Why didn't she break her own kitchen wares instead of mine, right?

Sometimes it scared me if I ever caught her clumsiness, especially recently at work, it's been attacking me. I kind of suspected she turned me into one by now, considering the years we've been friends.

"Hey, you've broken enough glasses already," I snapped with disturb shocked eyes, "Tsk. Use plastic wares or disposables, will you? They're safer." I moved her glass of water in the middle of the table which was begging to be saved from almost dangling at the edge. Poor fragile thing. I would definitely feel scared too if I were that glass.

"Psch. Don't worry, I'll buy you again." She waved her hand without an ounce of care as though buying anything was nothing to Dew—my best friend who was fortunate enough coming from a rich clan. Money was never an issue for her. She could do and buy anything her heart desired. Unlike me, I wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth unfortunately.

Dew and I have been best of friends since grade school up to now. We started calling each other as Tart when we were kids, because we both loved sweet tarts. My mom used to bake those during our childhood days. She loved to bake quiet different pastries and cakes. A talent I didn't acquired too much.

After grade school, Dew and I went to the same high school near our town, and when I got my college scholarship, she followed me in the university where we both graduated. I guess I was the only one who could tolerate her craziness and tantrums, so she had been following me wherever I went. I'm an only child and having her as a sister-like best friend is such a blessing to me. Life wasn't that boring after all.

After college, due to the fact that I had to start making my own money to help my parents—whom were still at our hometown, Dew and I tried our luck for our first job hunting in the city, which made us roommates initially because I could not afford paying for my own rent that time. She somewhat adopted me but it didn't last too long. We both landed into a decent job thankfully—me first, then her later.

However, I eventually got my own apartment—the smallest and cheapest unit in the same building where we're at now—since I couldn't take it anymore when Tart and her disloyal seasonal boyfriends were making out in the apartment, even with my presence. Ugh.

As I've said earlier, she had been heartbroken several times. She'd fall in love so easily, trusted a guy quickly with her whole careless heart as if she'd end up marrying the guy after a few days of meet up. Unfortunately yeah, she's so easy.

Believe it or not, her boyfriends' gormless friends had an impression I was as an easy to get as well, asking me out numerous times but I always refused them. Those idiots were not even worth my time to date with. I'd rather do such productive works or spend my time helping my Aunt In's internet cafe in the city or visit my parents to our hometown on weekends.

Tart and I may have several compatibilities but were totally different when it comes to love. She may had countless relationships while I had none, never wanted to until I found the right guy. Which up to now, as fortunate as I had always been, haven't found one, yet. Not that I was picky or something. Uh. Okay. Okay. Kind of. Settling into a relationship isn't a game for me. I didn't want to waste my time and energy dealing with crappy relationships and lousy boyfriends. I had the right to be picky.

But you couldn't blame me from the trauma. I've seen how painful and devastating it was being heartbroken. Tart is my good example. I was the one getting traumatic with her roller coaster kind of relationships. And whenever she's hurt, I got hurt too.

One thing I did not get was that as much as I have had learned a lot from her heartbreaks, not to mention my mother's deafening advice of not to trust my heart to anyone and not to fall in love so easily, this stupid girl never learned at all. Seriously.

It seemed that her brain had stopped working whenever her heart was floating on cloud nine—which won't even last long enough to be honest. Sometimes, no scratch that, a lot of times, I had an urge of smacking her head on the wall, the hardest wall possible, to bring her senses back, which was quite impossible because she would never listen. Simply hardheaded. Or maybe she had hearing problems. I'd lean towards to both. *sigh*

But on the positive side, she could easily move on, only if there's a new guy in line—of course who'd potentially break her heart. Again. I just hope someday someone will love her the way she is without any conditions, will love her wholeheartedly—not her money neither her face nor body. She deserves to be happy. I'd be the happiest best friend if that would happen—however, a miracle had to happen. And I had no idea when that would be.

"Tart, you should stop spending unnecessarily, you know?" I beamed like my usual self whenever I had to remind her of her big time spending illness.

"And you should stop spending for those bastards who only want your money. And don't let them use you. Just wake up already." I narked at her for the countless times before drinking the happily saved glass of water—Tart's water. As much as I wanted