20.

Sophie:
Two days later:
I sit behind my laptop, scrolling through endless job openings.

"What are you doing?"
Marco's hand settles on my shoulder before I even realize he's standing behind me.

"Looking for a job, I finished school almost two months ago, I wanna make myself useful again."
"You don't need a job." Marco says firmly.

I turn to face him. "Of course I do."
"No, you don't. I'll take care of you, as long as you take care of me." He says and closes my laptop. "So, you don't need a job." He repeats himself.

I look at him a little confused but nod, not saying anything.
"That's my girl." He says with a smile on his face and I force a smile on my face myself.
"I'll start dinner." I say as I get up and walk towards the kitchen.

"We are going to the club tonight!" Marco yells from the living room. "Remco just texted me."
"Okay!" I yell back at him and I grab my phone from my back pocket.
I text Kim, hoping that she is in for a club night as well.

I put Marco's plate on the table in front of him. I sit down across from him and we eat, in silence.

"What time do we leave?" I ask him, trying to break the silence.

"Around 9, Remco will pick us up." Macro says without looking at me.
I nod, looking at him while he eats.
"I asked Kim if she wanted to go with us."

He looks at me and puts down his cutlery.
"You know I don't like her." He looks into my eyes, sharply.
"I know."
He stays silent, but his eyes tell everything.
"I just thought..."
Marco sighs. “Fine."

I know he is close to almost losing his temper, so I try not to trigger him too much.
“You don't have to talk to her. Just pretend she's not there."
He looks away and picks up his fork. He looks at me again and puts a little smile on his face. "Okay, but just for you."
I smile back at him.


I cleaned the kitchen, took a shower and got dressed. I just finished my make up when Marco enters our room.

He looks me up and down, giving me the look.
"What's wrong?"
"Are you going like that?"
I look at myself in the mirror. "Uhm," I stammer. "You don't like it?”
He shakes his head.

I undress myself and quickly put on another dress. "Better?" I ask Marco, making eye contact with him.

"Maybe the dress isn’t the problem."
Before I can even respond, the doorbell rings.
"Come, we have to go." Marco says and he leaves the room.

I look into the mirror, tears filling my eyes. I push them away and grab my bag.
I walk down the stairs and put on my heels which are standing next to the door.
I walk outside and Remco greets me with a quick kiss on the cheek. "You look beautiful, Sophie. Marco is a lucky man."

"Thank you, Remco." I say softly, forcing a little smile on my face. Marco's words linger in my head, making me insecure once again.

We arrive at the club and I'm relieved to see Kim when I get inside. I walk straight to her, leaving Marco and Remco behind.

I greet her with a tight hug and kiss on the cheek.
"I already ordered us some wine!”
“You’re amazing!”

We walk onto the dancefloor, both a glass in our hands, joining Marco and Remco.
Everyone starts dancing, except for me.
I look down at myself, maybe Marco was right, maybe I do look ridiculous in this dress.

I drink my wine fast, hoping alcohol will help, but knowing damn well it will only make things worse.

As the night continues, Kim and Remco disappear together, leaving me alone with Marco. I stand next to him, not moving, with an empty glass in my hands.

Completely ignoring me, Marco is dancing and laughing with random people.
He's across the room now. And I watch him.
It doesn’t take long before a girl is all over him.

I watch him from where I stand. He doesn't look my way once.

The girl is beautiful. Brown wavy hair, beautiful brown eyes, perfect body...

I step aside a little, leaning onto the high table as I stare at my hands, still holding the empty glass, tears burning in my eyes.

I look up, facing Marco and this girl. The way he looks at her.. He never looks at me like that.
I can’t even blame him really. She is beautiful. She is everything I am not, I will never be like her.

A tear rolls over my cheeks and I quickly wipe it away.
I turn around and start walking toward the exit.

As I get outside I walk towards the side, away from the people who are gathered outside, smoking, talking, waiting for friends.

I lean against the wall, letting my tears flow.

"Sophie?"
I know that voice. Tom.

I quickly wipe my cheeks dry. I breathe in deeply, trying to control my breathing and stop myself from crying.

"Are you following me or something?" I say without looking at him.
He walks my way, leaning against the wall next to me.
"We just got here and I saw you walking over here." Tom explains. I briefly look at him, my eyes still glinstering from the tears.

"Why are you crying?" He asks in a soft gentle voice. I shrug my shoulders and sigh deeply, staring at my own hands.
“Have you ever looked in the mirror... and wished you looked like someone else?"

Another tear escapes my eyes, rolling over my cheek.

I feel Tom's hand on my cheek, wiping the tear away with his thumb. His touch is soft, gentle and caring. Something I have never experienced before, so I lean into his touch and close my eyes for a few seconds.

"You are beautiful, Sophie." He says, his voice soft but firm. When I open my eyes again I look straight into his. "You don't have to say that.." I mumble.
"I mean it. You are beautiful."

His eyes are soft and kind as they look into mine, his thumb gently caressing my cheek.

His hand slides carefully to my side as if to pull me into a hug.
My entire body stiffens.
His smile fades. I force myself to relax.
"I'm okay."
"You don't look okay."
"I'm fine."

He studies me for a moment.
Then he gently wraps an arm around my waist.
Pain shoots through my ribs. A sharp gasp escapes my lips. I pull away immediately.
His arm drops.
"Did that hurt?"

I take a step back.
“I barely touched you.”
“I know.”
"Sophie."
"It's nothing."
His eyes don't leave mine.
"...That wasn't nothing."
I force a laugh. "I fell."
"When?"
"A few days ago."
"Doing what?"
I hesitate. Then smile. "You know me. I'm clumsy."
He doesn't smile back.

He steps closer. Not intimidating, but concerned. "Look at me."
I do.
"Is Marco hurting you?"
For a second... I almost tell him. Instead, I shake my head. "No."
I wipe another tear away. "Of course not."
Tom keeps looking at me. Like he's waiting for me to change my answer.

Tom keeps staring into my eyes and I look away.
"Every time I see you, you are crying because of him. What did he do this time?”

I shrug. “Nothing. Really.. it’s me.”
He studies my face, and I can see he doesn’t believe me. “If he’s hurting you.. I can help you, Sophie.”