I wanted to cry but apparently even that didn't seem to soothe down my heartache. Wiping under my eyes softly, I continued drinking from my glass of wine. That's what I've been doing now for two days in a row. Drinking, crying and partying with my sad, overwhelming emotions. I couldn't believe that my life transpired into this.

Never in my whole life did I think that I'd come to hate New York city since it's one of my favorite places. Or at least, it used to be. Now I wished that my dad would have chosen DC itself as his destination for the wedding.

It was like just moments ago I was enjoying my life with Skye, job or not but that one phone call changed it all. Or even worse, everything had changed even before Skye had received that call.

Skye was phoned by one of the PR team members of his dad, telling him that the news of me, as in Valerie Jones - though spotting April Glow with Skye at the gala event - hanging out with him even after getting fired by the very same institution was spreading like a wildfire. And the worst part of it all? Someone had somehow leaked the information of Skye being voted out of his own company and Ms. Maxwell resigning just after that.

The whole American media has been jumping inside the hullabaloo since all of these events were occuring in a quick succession at one of the biggest companies.

And that was not even half of it. I was being blamed for everything that was happening and my low self esteem couldn't agree more. I was in the lowest pits of them all. I was... broken into tiny little pieces and didn't know which one to pick up first to mend myself back again.

"I think... you should stop seeing my son, Ms. Jones." Jonathan Williams' words came ricocheting through the walls of my head like an annoying newscaster.

Those mere words had me thinking about that incident from two days ago. After that foreboding phone call from Jonathan Williams' PR team, we were both asked to meet with him the very next day.

My world came crashing down on me or at least that's what I'd felt, to say the least. Under all the circumstances I had imagined to meet Skye's dad, that had not been one of them. It was even worse than the walk of shame. But then again, how would I know? I'd never had to endure such a thing before.

That day of sitting in front of the person I idolize the most and staring into his humorless jade green eyes was beyond mortifying. I was staring at my lap the whole time while biting my lower lip. Skye was sitting beside me on the same plush couch.

I had not paid attention to the detail of his parents' house nor did I know if it was a simple house or a mansion. My mind was just occupied by one thing - how did the pictures get out and who could be behind this all?

"Ms. Jones," Mr. Williams had begun in his polite tone. His voice was comforting but I could feel my insides shaking like a leaf. At that point, I had even forgotten that I was his biggest fan. Maybe I was too embarrassed to even think about it.

Mr. Williams was in his mid sixties with a bald head and silver beard. I couldn't tell much about his facial features but it was evident that he has aged fine. However, unlike Skye, his eyes were jade green and that day, they were anything but happy.

How am I even supposed to make eye contact with him? I thought but looked up at him anyway. Both he and his wife were sitting on the opposite couch, sporting a no-nonsense look. There was not a single ounce of belligerent attitude surrounding them because the concern in their eyes for their son was plain as day.

Skye, who had been silent the whole time, decided to intervene with a harsh look directed toward Mr. Williams. "Dad. It's not her fault," he said, his tone filled with heavy conviction.

"I am not saying that it is. All I want at the moment is for this situation to settle down," his dad had said with an equally determined voice.

I couldn't help but just look at the exchange like I was in a different portal and didn't know what was happening. Even his dad's PR team was present there, discussing something from the far end of the corner inside the living room.

"Ms. Jones," he called for my attention again and I gave him a forced smile to go on. "Here." He handed me his iPad and I accepted it with my shaky hands. I knew what was coming next.

"Dad, ca-" Skye protested.

"It's okay." My voice came out hoarse and broken as I looked at the pictures in his device.

"Who published them, dad?" Skye's words reached my ears but they didn't register in my brain. "Was it Rick Stile because-"

"It wasn't him," was his dad's reply. "The publication is different this time. Someone from the Wall Street Journal. And this time, they were smart enough to not reveal the reporter's name. It's anonymous."

His words just resonated in the air. Like I was hearing them but it didn't make any sense to me because my mind was elsewhere. However, my eyes rounded as soon as they landed on the picture of Skye and I in the hot air balloon. It was as if my heart had almost stopped beating. It was a simple picture of us laughing together without any care in the world. My eyebrows furrowed when its angle showed that someone had taken it from below us.

That's when Mr. Williams' words made sense to me because I think I might have made eye contact with that anonymous guy. He was there, pretending to be the photographer when we got down from the hot air balloon.

My heart was erratically drumming against my chest as I looked through all the pictures of us inside the hot air balloon. I scanned through the articles quickly, stating April Glow as a rebound or a means to throw the media "off the grid".

Handing over the tablet back to Mr. Williams, a realization struck me hot and hard. Skye never told me this but I felt like his dad was probably mad at me for destroying everything they had going on for their company the moment I came into the picture all of a sudden. It was like I had just come with the means to slay it all.

They weren't looking at me angrily but I could see the sad disappointment in Mr. Williams' eyes every time he would look at me while Mrs. Williams couldn't stop showing her concern for Skye.

Mrs. Williams was a pretty woman with brown hair cut stylishly in a long bob. She seemed to be in her sixties as well but her beauty didn't seem to fade away even today and her gray eyes were filled with so much sadness that I couldn't help but think that I was the cause of it all.

It's all me. It's all my fault. I brought this upon them. I brought down one of the most successful institutions.

I could hear Mr. Williams and Skye arguing over something which was obviously about the current situation. However I blocked them out as I kept swimming, floating and drowning in my own guilt. I wanted to cry but I kept a gritting front and pushed back my tears defiantly.

"Ms. Jones?"

"Dad, don't-"

"Ms. Jones?"

"I am telli-"

"I am talking to you, Ms. Jones," said a very frustrated voice, bringing me out of my thoughts.

"Yes, Mr. Williams?" I met his gaze, feigning strength but my insides were tearing with fright.

"I think... you should stop seeing my son, Ms. Jones."

And ever since that day, those words have never stopped haunting me. I remember Skye getting all livid and worked up but he knew that he couldn't win against it this time. That was because his dad's final words had directly kicked us both in our guts.

"Do you think I have a choice, Skylar?!" Mr. Williams' voice had boomed. "I am doing this because I don't want Miss. Jones to be caught up in this loop. The only way the media will leave her be and stop harassing you is by you both keeping your distance from each other. To protect you both."

Sniffling, I continued sipping the wine but this time from the bottle itself. I knew I was getting drunk but it tasted so good plus I needed to make my mind all foggy to forget about everything. It wasn't working much though.

I had every urge to contact Skye, to meet him just so I could see his breathtaking smiles but I knew I couldn't. The only way I could help him was by keeping my distance like I said I would and not make the media badmouth him nor would I want the reputation of his establishment lower down.

My hands were itching to ring my friends and call them at my place but I was too wasted to even entertain them.

A sad giggle bounced through my lips as I stood up from my couch and stumbled toward the window of my living room. I gasped loudly when I saw my reflection in the glass.

I looked like an epitome of a bad witch with the way my curls were sitting atop my head haphazardly. My eyes were bloodshot and my cheeks all flushed. Another giggle escaped my lips because I looked beyond funny.

Not wanting to stare at myself to make my nightmare-ish dreams even scarier, I opened my window to let the cool gush of air in. I blew out my cheeks because the winds were getting harsh and almost every single person walking on the street was covered in thick, comfortable winter clothes.

Well, everybody except for one.

I felt like my eyes were playing tricks on me so I began blinking vigorously to wipe off my haze. Although the image was still the same.

A tall, well built man was crossing the street with his back to me. Now I wouldn't have paid much attention to him if it weren't for his attire because he was literally shaking with the way he was walking quickly. He was wearing a simple tee and jeans, nothing to cover him from the brash winter winds.

Not only that but he held something in his hand. Something... big? Like an... equipment. I blinked again to clear my vision from the blurriness before putting down the wine bottle on the floor. I leaned more onto the railing of my window to get a better view and that's when it dawned on me like a buttload of bricks.

He was carrying a DSLR! A paparazzo?!

He was walking across the street opposite my apartment. I lifted up my eyes and saw a mediocre looking building in front of me and noticed him getting inside its entrance. Even in my drunken state, my mind was piecing everything together.

With every fibre in my body, I just knew that the guy was going inside that building to get a better vantage point. The question was why? What did he need now? I wasn't even with Skye anymore. My heart almost coerced me to think back to our days together to find some comfort but I pushed that thought for later when I would go to bed.

My stomach was churning at the possibility of that man trying to get a picture of me. Maybe it was the paranoia talking. Me being paranoid of every single person carrying a camera in their hands.

"Pfft." I waved my hand, laughing like a drunk maniac. "Not me overthinking things again."

Just as I was about to shut down the window, the man with the DSLR looked over his shoulder. Straight through my window and toward me. My breath got stuck in my throat and I quickly scrambled to close the window as if the world was on fire.

Him! He was the same guy I'd seen the other day in the open field after our ride in the hot air balloon. The one who had ignored Riven's shouts to come over to us.

What does he want now?! I asked myself again as I fell down on my knees. All those frightening thoughts of mine rushed back to me at full force. What game is this person playing at? Who's behind this? And mainly who's Kyle M? These were my last thoughts as the wine in my body lulled me to go to sleep. I wanted to force myself to close and lock all the windows and doors but I was too tired. Too tired of everything and slowly the situation I was in was catching up on me.

God, please wake me up when this is all over or maybe invent a time machine already? Time travel sounds good right now, I thought before my eyes had closed on their accord.