Do you know how to identify a great night? When the sky is starry and the gentle breeze brushes against your skin as you take a stroll, when there's nothing to think of besides how to exhaust the drink in your hand— that right there, is a great night.

Samantha swapped my drink with hers as we walked along the park pathway, then drowned the whole fruit juice down her system.

"I can't drink coffee," I said, staring at the cup she had shoved into my hand.

"You don't need to worry about that," she replied with such a mischievous smile that I just had to shake the disposable coffee cup.

Of course, it was empty. I should have known when the cup felt so lightweight. Samantha laughed in my face and handed me back my cup of fruit juice which was now only holding a few ice cubes.

"We should go on a vacation. All four of us," Annabelle started as we arrived at the entrance where her car was parked, "Now that I think of it, we've never done that."

I settled down in the backseat of the car with Scarlett, since Samantha had called shotgun. I preferred to sit in the back anyway, it wasn't like I wanted to sit in front initially— definitely not, really. I mean, I took the shotgun seat before she joined us to head to the park but I really don't care that I'm not there now. Really.

"You'd have to match my schedule, then," Samantha said, wearing her seatbelt as Annabelle drove down the road.

"Don't they ever give you breaks?" Scarlett asked while resting her head on my lap.

"Seeing how free you girls are makes me miss being a student," Samantha sighed, "Don't ever fall into the endless cycle of working from nine to five for some organisation. You're better off being a small business owner."

"Are you going to quit soon?" Annabelle asked.

"I'm not sure. I wanted to resign by the end of this year but ever since I got promoted, my new pay has been making me reconsider."

Annabelle laughed.

I sipped the tasteless juice from my cup, then munched one ice cube before resting my head on the window. The buildings swept by so quickly— thanks to Annabelle's driving— but the scenery of the night was so beautiful. The stars, the yellow rays of the streetlights, the cars which sped by in the opposite direction on the other side of the road, the pedestrians taking a night stroll in twos or rushing home from work with eagerness to get some rest. If I could be handed a canvas and a paintbrush right now, I'd be so happy.

"How did the time fly by so fast?" Samantha exhaled, "It was only seven PM when I met up with you three."

"What's the time now?" Scarlett inquired.

"Eight-thirty."

"Eight-thirty?" She exclaimed at Samantha's response, "We only spent like five minutes at the park!"

"The night's still young, though. Do we head to my place?" Annabelle inquired from the group.

"Aren't you tired from the shoot?" I asked her, finally pulling away from the scenery that had sucked all of my attention, "I wasn't even the one modelling but I was already exhausted from looking at you work."

"And we were there for three freaking hours!" Scarlett added.

"Right," I said.

"This isn't my first rodeo. Plus, this is my way of relaxing; you know this," Annabelle replied, "So, my place?"

I stared at my phone, confirming what the time said, "I have to back out on this one. There's something I need to do back in my hostel."

"That's right. I heard in the restroom that Mrs. Kendall is planning a test next week," Scarlett said, "You better go study."

"What about you?" I asked her.

"Me? I don't care anymore. That woman hates our guts, so even if we get every question right, she'll still find a fault."

Annabelle pulled over adjacent to the alley, then watched me alight the car and stand on the sidewalk.

"Be good," she said.

"Being good is so boring. Be bad as hell," Scarlett teased.

I laughed.

"I'll be back soon, okay?" Samantha said leaning in from the other side of the car.

"Sure," I smiled and waved as Annabelle zoomed off.

I had nothing to do in my hostel. In fact, I also had Scarlett's mindset when it came to Mrs. Kendall's test. I was unbothered.

I held the strap of my bag and walked into the dimly lit alley, staring towards the lamppost about fifty meters away from me. There he was; the actual reason I had skipped all the night's fun. My not-so-secret secret.

I put on a smile as he looked at me, exposing those glowing eyes of his.

"Hi," I said, walking up to him.

In his right hand was a drink. You could guess right, it was the usual, still sealed and not punctured. I snorted out loud laughter and took the drink off his hand, poking the straw into the seal.

"You keep bringing me this drink," I said and took a sip.

"You like it," he replied.

I pursed my lips from smiling, "No, I don't."

I stared into his eyes and burst out laughing again.

"How are you?" He inquired, weaving a loose curl resting on my forehead to behind my ear before he dipped his hands back into his pockets, "Hm?"

I twirled the straw in my little drink as I stared at it, "I had fun with my friends today. I and my friends ran around the neighbourhood, we watched my friend at work while pulling pranks on her, we went to the park and now they're off to Annabelle's house. They claim it's just for the last course of the day and Sam says she'll be home soon but I know it'll end up being a sleep-over. So, yeah. Fun."

"Wendy," he started.

I looked up at him, "Yes?"

"How are you?"

I pursed my lips. It was so useless trying to hide how I truly felt from him. He had seen me cry and break down countless times from being treated like shit by Thomas Archer. Why did ever believe that he'd be fooled into thinking I was over everything?

"I'm not sure," I began, staring at the two cups in my hands again, "I was fine until I saw my ex today. Oddly, I'm not even that sad about it anymore but it still hurts. It hurts that I got played and that I have to endure it all, while he's dwelling in happiness. It hurts that my replacement is better than me; you don't need to try to make me feel better about it, I already know. She's better than me and Thomas might never for once regret cheating on me with her."

I exhaled softly, "It's weird to say this but it's not the fact that he cheated on me that hurts but the fact that I let myself get fooled so easily because I was in love," I looked up at him, "So, how do I relate that into how I'm feeling?"

He patted my head gently, smoothening my hair backwards.

"You want to give me a receding hairline, don't you?" I teased, even without a smile on my face.

I heard him softly laugh, "I can't help it."

"I need to wipe off my make-up. I must have ruined my eyeliner," I said, "I wonder how you're always able to look at me in this state. Don't you have nightmares?"

I was about to walk away when he pulled me back and enveloped me in his arms, covering me in his cozy warmth.

"You're doing well, Wendy," he softly said.

What did that mean? I didn't even know, but that was enough to make the sadness I had hidden deep in my heart and the tears that I held in all day burst out. How silly was it that words that I could not understand were capable of making me show forth my real emotions?

"Why did you say that?" I wailed against his shirt, "I was trying so hard not to cry. Look at what you caused, now your shirt's going to be smudged with makeup. Why did you decide to wear a white shirt today? Why are you like this?"

He smoothened my hair again, hugging me by my shoulders even as I softly hit him, "I'm sorry. I apologize."

I freed myself from him and shot him a glare, "I told you not to push my hair backwards!"

The embarrassment crept up my bones as I stared at his astonished gaze, and with that, I sprinted into my apartment building.

"I'll be waiting for you," I heard his muffled voice yell out.

I burst into my apartment and rested my back on the closed door. Taking deep breaths as I shut my eyes, I could finally calm down from the circus play that had just happened. I headed for the dresser and pulled out a make-up wipe from the new pack I had just gotten. While wiping my make-up off, I ran over to the window and looked outside. Yep! He was still there.

"Arsh!" I held my head as the thought of me ugly-crying in front of him some minutes ago filled my head.

Why did I always cry whenever we met? Was it because of how gently he spoke?

I sat down on the chair and stared at my face as I applied my serum, "A little lip liner won't hurt, would it?"

A little lip liner wouldn't hurt but it may have me with a face full of make-up in the next few minutes. I knew myself better than anyone. It was just too addictive, adding more touches to my face until I realized that it wasn't a "natural" look anymore.

I stood up and walked over to the door to pull it open and leave, but the parasites! The parasites wanted me to use that delicious dark-brown lip liner that laid so peacefully in my make-up bag. It felt illegal to go out without anything on my face— like I was naked. So, I walked back to the table, picked up that juicy lip liner and outlined my natural lips— much to my satisfaction.

I picked up a nude lipstick, "Let's add a touch of this."

"And some gloss," I continued as I applied my lipstick.

I stared into the mirror, nodded in approval of how my lip combo turned out, and then walked out of my apartment. Now standing before Scott by the lit lamp-post, I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Right there on his white shirt was an imprint of my face, gracefully done by my makeup. I could see two dampened circles caused by my tears, my concealer-mixed foundation, my lip combo and even one of my lash extensions that got stuck to his shirt.

I looked away and faked a cough in embarrassment, avoiding Scott's eyes. If I could run off right now, I would.

"Would you like another hug?" I heard him ask.

My cough transitioned into a laugh, "Are you really mocking me right now?"

"Yes."

I laughed harder, not minding how Scott watched me amusedly. It was nice to have a good laugh after a hard cry, the world should try that more often.

"Do you know what I really want?" I inquired as my laughter finally died down.

"What is it?"

"Snacks, to watch a movie," I said with my gaze widened to mimic doe eyes, "Will you come with me to the cinema if I decide to go to one?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Or rather, will you watch the movie at my house with me? It's more fun for me to watch it that way."

"Wendy," Scott started.

"Yes?"

"Do you want me to watch the movie with you?"

"Well," I stared at my hands, "Yeah."

"Then you can just tell me to do that. Tell me whatever you want me to do."

"You won't refuse? You'll never say no?" I asked.

"I don't think I can say no to you."

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Tip: Wendy doesn't clearly know how Scott looks because she rarely has her glasses on whenever they meet.