DAISY

I stopped the car in front of a bar on Miami Beach platform.

The place smelled like cigarettes and urine like most places in Los Angeles. Still, the platform was well frequented due to the large number of bars and people selling drugs without any bureaucracy.

Even at 8:30 in the morning.

I was surprised to see two women and a man drinking beer straight from the bottle as if they didn't have to work the next morning.

I envied them, because I didn't have a job either, but I couldn't drink like them. I needed to fix my life.

I entered the bar with a blue paint that was coming off and a broken wooden sign. I was hoping to find Cliff and his friends here. They always came to this place to drink. I used to come too before I worked for Stacker and had free time on the weekends.

As soon as I walked in, I saw Jordan, Cliff's idiotic friend, sitting at a table with a girl on his lap. On the other side, a dark-haired guy rested his head on the table.

Apparently, everyone left except the three of them.

"Hey, Ian, how are you?" I approached the brunette at the table.

With great difficulty, Ian raised his head. His eyelids were slightly closed and I couldn't tell if he was drunk or just sad.

It was difficult to say anything about Ian. We studied together in high school. He, Blair, and I were that trio of ignored kids who banded together so we didn't have to interact with other kids in group assignments.

Ian and I grew apart over time. These days he was closer to Cliff than he was to me.

"No, existing is a curse."

As tempting as it was to agree and join him in his pit of sadness, I needed to find my boyfriend.

"Okay" I smiled halfheartedly. "Where's Cliff?"

"Oh, he's back there with..." Ian interrupted himself when Jordan looked at him. "Um... well... yeah..." Ian stuttered, while gesturing nonstop as if I could understand better that way "He is dead. It was a tragedy. I am really sorry about that."

I squinted my eyes.

"Is that so? Maybe I should look for his body back there?" I pointed to a door at the back of the bar that Ian mentioned before Jordan pressed him.

Jordan was the bad influence of the group, I could confirm that. He was that guy who made homophobic jokes that only he found funny. I was pretty sure he only hung out with Cliff because of his growing success.

I told Cliff how Jordan wasn't a good friend, but he defended him.

"As a widow I should have the right to see my boyfriend's face for the last time."

"Yes, of course, but he was run over by a tractor, so it's awful. You wouldn't want that." Ian said.

"Dude!" Jordan scolded him.

"I'll take my chances" I said, walking to the door.

I heard Ian and his friend mutter something, but I was too far away to hear.

The hallway was narrow. There was a door in the middle that must be the bathroom and a second door on the side that was ajar. I approached that last one with careful steps.

"God, you're amazing" I heard a girl's voice coming down the hall.

I had a weird feeling about that.

When I entered the room, the first thing I saw was Cliff's blonde hair being pulled by a feminine hand while the girl was glued to Cliff's lips.

I would prefer to find his body torn apart by a tractor.

"What are you looking at?" said the brunette when she noticed me standing there.

My boyfriend also turned around, his lips as red as the girl's.

"Daisy?" He widened his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

An awkward silence fell between us until the girl frowned and turned to Cliff.

"You never told me you had a girlfriend".

I got out of there as quickly as I could.

No, no, no.

This couldn't be real.

It must be a figment of my imagination. Didn't my mother always say that she sees things that no one else could?

"Daisy, please wait".

I ignored Cliff's pleas and walked past his friends who stood up, looking at me as if to say, "We tried to warn you."

"I didn't expect to see you here!" Cliff stated, when we reached the parking lot.

"Oh, wow, Cliff, imagine if I hadn't come!" I turned abruptly, shouting loud enough for all of Los Angeles to hear.

It didn't matter anymore. I just lost my dream job, my dream boyfriend and a discount coupon at the beauty salon. All in less than twenty-four hours.

I felt my eyes water and my throat close as if a pill was stuck in my windpipe.

I couldn't cry. Not here.

"How long?" I had to hold my breath to prevent the tears from coming out.

Cliff sighed and ran his hand through the blond hair that I had admired and dreamed about every day back at school. The same I was admiring next to me in bed in the morning and at night was being pulled by some random girl at a smelly bar.

"It doesn't matter, Day..." he shook his head, but I kept my gaze on his face until he relented. "A week ago. But I barely know Margot."

"How perfect" I laughed in such a scary way that even Cliff took a step back, a little uncertain. "So you choose a nobody instead of me."

"Would you feel better if we had a story?" He squinted his eyes.

I didn't bother to continue that conversation and went straight to my truck.

"Day, I'm so sorry!" I felt Cliff approach me. "I really am. I never wanted to hurt you, I would never do that, but..."

I turned around again to listen to him tell me to my face that I wasn't enough for him. That I never was. Therefore, he looked for what was missing in the arms of this Margot girl.

"It's hard to date someone who is rarely there," he said. "I only see you at breakfast or at night when you're not glued to that laptop!"

"So this is my fault?"

My heart ached for being so hard on him, even though I had just seen him kissing someone else. My older brother kept telling me that I was too kind to people who didn't deserve it. And he was right.

Why couldn't I feel angry at Cliff? Why wasn't I hitting him in the face right now? We dated for seven years and he cheated on me with some random girl! Why did all I want to hear him say it was just a misunderstanding?

What was wrong with me?

"You're putting words in my mouth" he said simply. "All I'm saying is that I love you. We've been dating for so long, we've been through all the complications of college and adulthood together... I know you, Daisy, and it's hard to see you killing yourself in a terrible job that will never give you the results you're looking for."

"I think you'll be more than pleased to hear that I've been fired," I shrugged, smiling falsely.

"Is this serious?" Something in Cliff's eyes sparkled "It's perfect".

"Pardon me?"

"See, now we can start over from zero without other people and jobs taking up our lives, we can even move out of that goddamn house and do this differently" Cliff raised his arm in the air as if projecting our new life into the Los Angeles air.

As tempting as the idea was, I was hurt and it wasn't even because of the girl he was sticking his tongue in a few seconds ago. But all those words....

We will always support each other, he said. I was feeling like shit about missing his gig the night before, and now he didn't give a shit that I missed my big chance?

"There's nothing we can do, Cliff. I thought you were the love of my life and that you would never break my heart, but you've done it over and over again in these last few minutes" I said and I could feel the tears running down my cheeks.

Cliff approached and the sweet smell of his perfume invaded my nostrils.

"I don't want to see you again. Never."

"This is a bit complicated, isn't it? We live in the same house" he said.

"It doesn't matter. I'm leaving," I said, getting into the truck.

"Where the hell are you going, Daisy? You're unemployed and don't know anyone here!" Cliff reminded me, which didn't help much with the new feeling of hatred I was harboring towards him.

"I'm going back to Oakland!"

"Serious? Do you think returning to your parents' house will help you with your career? And what about your script?"

I didn't want to admit that he was right. I would never be able to do anything at my parents' house, not when I had three noisy brothers and an eleven-month-old little sister who cried all morning.

"Daisy, please have some sense" he knocked on the glass.

"Go to hell, Cliff" I said and backed my car.

In the rearview mirror, I saw Cliff trying to yell my name.

Funny. In less than twenty four hours, two cute guys begged me not to leave and neither situation was as pleasant as it should have been.

The next day, like the determined and independent woman that I was, I woke up early to pack my bags.

I searched every corner of the house, looking for anything that belonged to me—Cliff would be left with nothing. That would be my revenge. But I was faced with the sad reality that, apart from perhaps the batteries in the remote control, nothing there belonged to me.

So I took out the batteries and put it in my bag. It was a childish attitude, I know. I cursed myself for stealing a couple of old batteries, but to hell with that, I was an amazing woman and Cliff didn't deserve me.

I didn't need to prove anything to him.

In fact, that whole situation only made me stronger... OK, that's bullshit.

I cried all night in my bed, watching the first season of Hearts on Fire while I hugged my pillow. After snoozing on my blanket, I took a shower and cried while eating breakfast on one of the plates that had our initials together. I did feel better now and only cried when I saw some pictures of us.

Cliff didn't show up, which led me to think that either he was giving me space to resolve my private conflicts or he was taking the opportunity to have sex with that girl.

No. I wouldn't think about it. I wouldn't think about the two of them and the fact that they were together behind my back for a week.

When I was leaving the room, I banged my foot on the same side table from the other night and cursed loudly, also knocking over a picture frame that was there.

It was a photo of us from the year before when we went to Mexico with my family.

This trip was awful. Briony was five years old at the time and wouldn't stop crying and bothering Mom, who was pregnant and complaining about everything. My teenage brother reached that phase of not caring about anything.

My other brother, Cole, tried to keep the spirits up, but he always got lost in some Mexican skirt or pants. Dad and his terrible Spanish almost got our family deported from the country three times. All this in just two days.

The only time I got to be alone with Cliff was when we went to visit the Pyramid of the Sun and took that photo. We walked around the archaeological site, while laughing at the other tourists trying to take a photo with their finger on the top of the pyramid. In the late afternoon, we had lunch downtown, listening to a mariachi group sing.

When we got back to the hotel, Cole took me aside and said:

"Honestly, if he put up with our family for a week just to be with you... He definitely will propose."

I thought about this possibility.

I was only twenty-four at the time, but I would still accept Cliff's request if he did. Even if I was against the sexist institution of marriage, he was my first guy and my first love, I would have said "yes" without thinking twice.

Secretly, I've been wishing he'd proposed this whole time.

Knocks on the door woke me up from my daydream. I cleaned my eyes under my glasses and put the photo in place.

Oh my God, it's Cliff.

Great. I spent half an hour in the shower planning what I'd say to him and yelling swear words over and over to get used to the sound of them in my mouth because I hated swear words. I think I was prepared.

When I opened the door, there was no Cliff, only the described most handsome man in England for five years in a row, according to People Magazine.

"Daisy Lynton" Guy said with that seductive smile of his and his voice too pretentious to say someone's name. "You don't know how many Daisy Lyntons there are in L.A. Thirty, to be exact" he said, adjusting his sunglasses on his face.

I frowned. Before I could open my mouth to ask WHAT THE HELL? Guy entered the tiny apartment and settled down on one of the couches as if he were at home.

"You are a difficult woman to find. I had to run through an entire list of people who worked on the production with the letter D. I figured your name was probably something like Denise, so I found you, but I had even more work looking for your address." he spoke quickly and it was hard to follow because of his Sheffield accent.

"Did you go to all this trouble?" I crossed my arms, surprised.

"No, I paid someone to do it" he replied obviously. "I'm just here to offer peace and nothing more" he said and took the photo I was holding before he arrived with all of that presence.

It was no wonder that Guy never played a secondary role, he always stole the show wherever he went, even if it was just me and him in my living room.

Jesus, Guy Carver was in my living room. So much had happened in the last few hours that I was losing the ability of being surprised.

I remembered the conversation in the parking lot with his manager and realized that was why he was there. What other reason would he go to all this trouble to find me? Guy had a massive ego and only cared about himself.

"I'm not going to marry you" I said "If you stop to listen to yourself, you'd see that this is nuts."

"But it's not!" he argued, letting go of the photo and resting his elbows on his knees. "Just give me two minutes to explain my situation and then you'll get rid of me. Please."

"It's a small price to pay to get rid of your presence".

"Right? So, sit down." he pointed to the sofa in front of him.

"It's my house. I do whatever I want!"

"Okay" Guy raised his arms in surrender.

I stared at that tall, handsome man for a few seconds. It was strange to see him in just black pants and a blue blouse. Normally, I only saw him in his English navy uniform.

I mumbled to myself and ended up sitting on the couch.

Guy smirked.

And I knew I got myself in big trouble.