“i wanted to leave one last message for my ex to tell them to fuck off but oops wrong number, didn’t mean to yell at you instead” au.
1:00 am. bzz. 1:05 am. bzz. 1:10 am. bzz
Three essays formatted into text, in succession. What its context was or why it was sent was of no importance, relevance. The problem at hand was the when, the time it came to his attention, and in an abrupt manner, as well.
The occasional expletive here and there followed by emotions pouring from the heart made it clear as to what these messages were. A relationship that once seemed so perfect at the beginning became a volatile mess; and towards the end of that decaying connection spawned these words of sentiment. It must have been one of friends, one of the few who would keep themselves up past the crack of dusk to endeavor in such useless matters. The more narrow the list became, the more it confused the male. He had no friends with remotely any sympathy that rivaled this unidentified messenger.
Was this in relation to his own personal affairs? It couldn’t have been, he had only been in one relationship- and he was the one who was mercilessly dumped, so the roles would’ve been reversed in that case with him as the giver, not the recipient. At this point Lucas was wide awake, so he scrolled and scrolled endlessly towards the end to no avail. All he could identify was the sex, a male. But it was all the information needed to cut him clean from this debacle. He didn’t swing that way.
[text] » (?): Bro, wrong person. [text] » (?): Wrong gender, too.