FEGG - G13 - Remy - Chapter 4

 I left my parents in their house and moved out.

 Into a new blue house with the roof down to the ground. 

 And I even got my job at the journalist career.

 After that I went to the park, and I didn't even notice the brownhaired guy behind me.

 Until he came up to me.

"You're the girl I met at that wedding, right?" he said.

"Michael?" I guessed.

 "I remember you!" I said. "We hang out the whole evening and we both thought the cake had too much cream!"

 "Yeah, I think that." Michael said.

 We stood there chatting for a while. Talking about my parents wedding and laughing at the memories.

 I thought the time was right, when I leaned forward, going to kiss him.

 But he flinched and shook his head. "I'm sorry." he said. "You're so much younger than me."

 I stared at him, felt my cheeks become warmer. He smiled apologetic. "It's no big deal.." he said trying to cheer me up.

But I just turned around and ran to my car.

 I cried the whole ride home. How could I be that stupid?!

 When I got home I tried to write more in my book, to forget. But it didn't work, that just made me think more.

 So I went to the fridge and took some ice cream.

Best thing to do when something has happened, right?

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 The next day was my first day at work. I was just going to get in when someone called for me.

 I turned around, and who don't you think I saw. Michael.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

 "I'm working here," I said. "What are YOU doing here?"

 "Working here? I haven't seen you here before." he said.

 "No, it's because it's my first day here." I said slowly.

 He stared at me for a while. "Remy, are you stalking me?" he asked.

 "Stalking?! What?!" I said, but then I realized. He was apperently working here too! Or why would he ask me these things?

 I shook my head. "I'm not stalking you! I didn't even know you worked here!"

 "I don't know who told you," Michael said. "But I'm working here. I didn't know you were this immature."

 "Immature?!" I said. "Do you hear what you're saying? You can't just call someone immature because they have the same job as you!"

 "Immature is maybe the wrong word, but Remy, you don't need to be here! You should work with something you WANT to work with, not just because I'm working here!"

I shook my head. "You're sick!" I screamed, before turning around and walking as bitchy as I could to the entrence.