((I know I haven't updated this in forever and I'm sorry. I'm going to try and finish it, I promise. Sorry this chapter sucks.))
"What have you been doing with your life, man?"
Izzy shrugs, "Actually, not much. I came out here thinking I was going to be a big, bad rockstar." He takes a drink from his beer and sits on the couch next to me."Instead I'm working at a McDonalds...funny how things work out."
I suppose you could say that, seeing how Izzy was the whole reason I left Georgia for Los Angeles at the tender age of seventeen.
"But congratulations on your success. Hard to believe that little redheaded kid I knew back in Georgia became all this," he leans back into the couch, dark eyes sweeping over my apartment. He scoffs and shakes his head, "You were always so shy."
I swallow nervously and nod. I don't necessarily like talking about my past.
Izzy takes another drink from his beer before looking at me.
"What?" I ask, laughing when he keeps staring.
He shakes his head. "You just look so grown up is all. Last time we saw each other you were a cute little fifteen-year-old."
One who practically worshipped you, I thought. Izzy was three years older than me and I had always tried so hard to impress him. He was the person I first smoked pot with. I was ten at the time.
"You had such a huge crush on me."
I smirked at him when he said this. "Yeah," I admitted with a sigh. "I did." Okay, yeah, apparently both of us are a little drunk...
"I'm sorry," Izzy mutters. He's staring at the floor, refusing to make eye contact with me. "For leaving so suddenly...I've felt so bad about it even after all these years."
I know exactly what he's talking about. My mouth has gone dry and there's suddenly a lump in my throat. Ya know, I don't think I ever got over it. "That was a long time ago, Iz."
Izzy nods. "I know, Alec, but it was still wrong of me. I should of known better. You were only fifteen..." He shakes his head, "I've always been selfish."
"Izzy, it's okay," I lie. I know I should of gotten over it, but I haven't. I really cared about him and he just used me. Why do I feel like breaking down? I should be angry. Hell, I know I would be if I was sober. The fucking alcohol is getting to me.
That's probably why when he kisses me, I just let him.