This was the fourth time.

Maybe the fifth?

At this point, you couldn’t remember. It was just a simple fact that you seemed to repetitively wake up in the same state the morning after having him.

Your eyes opened slowly. Adrenaline flooded you first–then came the guilt–the realization–then you were just numb. You laid face down into your pillow, hair astray. You bare chest was down into the sheets, and your comforter rested just below your waist.

But you were alone.

You sat upright, sighing. Your head pulsed, but it wasn’t a hangover that made you sick. How could this have happened again? How could you have even allowed yourself to get close to him? You knew. You knew this was going to happen, so why did you let him slip in again?

It took forever for you to get out of bed and into the shower. And even then, you stood under scalding water for what might have been hours.

No more. You were tired of waking up alone.

You entered the practice rooms around noon which was unusually late for you, but today you made the exception. You slammed the door behind you, keeping your earbuds in, not giving your fellow trainees any mind. They stared at you with curiosity, wondering what put their charismatic leader in such a terrible mood.

Facing the mirrors and practicing your choreography for the thousandth time, you didn’t notice him walk in. As soon as he did, your members cleared out, muttering that it was time for lunch and other assorted excuses. You spotted him sitting behind you eventually, waiting for you to finish, but you continued to test his patience.

After another five minutes of ignorance, he approached you and ripped out one of your earbuds.

“We need to talk.” Bobby started.

You ignored him once more and continued your practice. “Busy.”

Unsatisfied with your immature response, he grabbed your phone from your pocket and threw it onto the benches. “You’re going to talk to me whether you like it or not.”

You continued to stare at your torn expression at the mirror before turning to him to respond. “What?”

“I’m sorry I left again.”

“Oh, are you? I couldn’t tell. I was too busy cleaning up the mess in my room.”

“Look, I wanted to talk about this like mature adults, but apparently you can’t throw away your pride for two second