There are some situations where no matter what decision you make, you're still going to regret it. I'm sad to announce that I always get myself in situations like that.

If I don't go on a walk with George I'm going to think about what he had to say for the rest of my being. If I do go, there's a high chance that I'm going to regret it. I guess it's a lose-lose, but at least there's a slight possibility that the second option might work out differently. And I think I should risk it.

Now for the hardest part. Gathering all of my courage to go ask that poor guy to cover my shift again. I don't think he minds, but I still feel extremely uncomfortable asking, cause it's already the second time.

"I'll go see if it's possible," I give in, seeing a small smile appear on George's face.

But before doing anything I grab my phone and go to the bathroom to check my phone cause it kept buzzing, and hopefully, compose myself while I'm at it. There aren't many people that I expect a text from. My brother forgot that I exist and I'm the only one reaching out to him lately. So the possibilities are literally only Nick, George, and Clay. And considering that George is here and Clay doesn't even have my number, I think I narrowed it down.

Yet the texts make me double-think the last point I made.

Unknown number: moonshine

Unknown number: I hope nick didn't trick me and it's actually your number

Unknown number: and if he did, whoever you are I'm sorry

Before I read the last text, I smile, saving the contact as Clay.

Clay: if george's with you this is your sign to not listen to his bullshit :)

Oh.

Well, that's not encouraging at all. Maybe I shouldn't go. George is way smarter than me, he can circle around the main point and make it seem like he's answered all of my questions. I'm gonna end up assaulting my knuckles and crying in uncertainty again.

And that doesn't sound fun.

Without even asking the guy if he'll cover my shift or not, I go back to my spot. George straightens up his posture from my presence, and I hate to lie but-

"They can't cover my shift, you should go home," I shrug, spilling the words hurriedly cause I'm a horrible liar.

"Who did you ask?" George looks suspicious. Maybe it's because he's been watching the other bartender and saw how I never approached him.

"As if you're gonna recognize them if I say the name," I roll my eyes, hoping he'll let it go.

When George looks at the other bartender, I start chewing on my bottom lip, "Did you ask that idiot?" I swear all three of them have an obsession with the word idiot, and I'm slowly becoming one of them.

"He's not an idiot and I don't want to ask him, he's covered my shifts way too many times already," I should've just told him that I don't want to go. The problem is that I wanted to go until I saw Clay's text, and I don't work well under pressure.

"I'll ask him then," George gets up to his feet and attempts to approach the guy, which makes me almost lie on the bar counter to grab his arm and stop him, "what?" He furrows his brows.

"Stop."

"Come with me then," he stops.

"I don't want to," frowning, I let go of his arm.

"Don't lie to me, Anastasia."

Chills run down my spine from the way he says my name. I glance at the other bartender, then at my phone, and finally George. And because I am stupid and can't seem to understand what's good for me and what's not, I end up agreeing to go on a walk with him.

The chain of unfortunate events starts from there.

Firstly, I blindly let George hold my hand as he leads us out of the bar. I didn't want to, but I gave in as soon as I felt his fingers brushing against mine.

Secondly, I see someone in the darkness leaning against a wall watching us. The distance is notable enough for me to not be able to point out anything. All I can tell is that the person is tall, has broad shoulders, and could kidnap both of us if they wanted to.

The thought alone creeps me out enough to squeeze George's hand.

He turns his head and looks. And as he does, the figure starts walking towards us. After a few seconds of panicking, I feel like I know who that is. The body structure is way too familiar.

George and I stand there still, and even though I was almost sure who the person was, the darkness didn't allow us to see his face until we were only a few feet apart.

"What are you doing here?" George sounds pissed.

The feeble light of the distant lamppost reveals Clay's face. He doesn't answer the question. Instead looks at our connected hands and glares at George.

"Let go of her hand," the tone of his voice almost makes me shiver, and even though George refuses to let go, I pull my hand away.

"Go sleep, Clay," the way he emphasizes his name is something I've never heard before. It's alarming that he can make a word hold that much threat, "don't be difficult."

I want to ask what's going on but a part of me wants to just stand there and watch. It's kinda scary but really intriguing at the same time, I just hope nobody ends up with a broken body part.

"I warned you, didn't I? I fucking warned you and you didn't listen," Clay slightly pushes George and I take a step away from them, "and after all of that you have the nerve to hold her hand?"

My jaw hangs open. I look at George, finding his gaze everywhere except on me. Suddenly nothing's intriguing anymore. I feel pure fear paired with confusion.

"What's going on?" My voice is small.

I watch Clay stand behind George and put his hands on his shoulders. It's almost like he's forcing George to look at me; his fingertips are turning white pressed on George's collarbones, as the shorter guy clenches his jaw.

"Tell her, George," Clay leans down and speaks behind George's ear, as I draw blood out of my lips, "tell Anastasia how you feel about her."

"Shut the fuck up." There's emptiness in George's voice. A little bit of aggression, and nothing else.

"I'm not going to," my heart is beating in my throat and Clay's words are terrifying me, "c'mon, tell her."

I thought I knew where this was going.

"You're gonna regret this," George is frozen in his spot, looking behind me as if I don't exist.

Even though Clay chuckles, there's pain in his voice when he speaks, "The only thing I regret is letting you do this to her," I swallow hard from his words, "now man up and quit your bullshit. Own up to what you did."

With his words, Clay roughly lets go of George to come and stand on my side. I look back to look at him, make him explain what's going on, but Clay's not even thinking about moving his eyes to my direction. He even covers his face and sighs into his hands aggressively.

I didn't think things could go worse than this. I thought I knew where this was going and managed to prepare myself for the words that were about to leave George's mouth. He just doesn't like me, right? George doesn't like me and I caught feelings for someone who doesn't feel the same about me. How can it get worse?

However, I was wrong again. It was far worse. It was something that didn't even cross my mind. I wasn't ready to hear it, not from anyone. And the fact that I heard it from George himself made me feel something so intensely demolishing, that it felt like he poured boiling water inside of my heart and watched it burn my veins as it flows.

George looked up and closed his eyes.

"I thought if I could make you fall for me you'll let us live in your house."