Perfect Regret (ARC)

Garrett ended the Pink Floyd song with a screech along the strings and then promptly jumped into a new set of chords that melded in with harmonics beautifully. I remembered the gentle melody all too well. It was the same tune he had played for me before. Back all those weeks ago when I stupidly thought there might be more to him than I had originally thought.

Then he opened his mouth and began to sing. And I forgot to be bitter. I forgot to be annoyed about seeing him with Gracie. All I could think; all I could feel was complete and total awe.

I hadn’t expected it

I thought you were a joke.

Your whispered words

Wrapped around my throat.

I hated that I loved it

The way you reached inside

Clawing through the wreckage

And the pieces that have died.

You don’t even know it,

You’re blind to what you see

The disillusioned lies

Bleeding out of me.

Quiet slumbers before the storm

Violent eyes, passionate cries,

Resisting and tormenting wanting more.

There is no beginning without an end,

No tomorrow, no future,

losing it all again.

Our story is a nightmare,



Written in stone,

Nothing can change it,

I’ll still be alone.

You want me to need you.

You’ll be waiting awhile,

Piercing my world

with the ice of your smile.

Your touch is toxic

Your heart’s a mess

Which is why you’ll always be

My perfect regret.

My perfect regret.

Regret…

Garrett’s voice faded into a soft hum as he strummed his guitar in a complicated dance along the strings. His song gave me chills. Seriously, I had goose bumps on my arms. The hair was literally standing up on the back of my neck.

When Garrett had finished, Cole let out a whistle. “Damn, that was a new one. Good shit,” he said, getting to his feet with the empty pitcher. I swallowed thickly, wondering, perhaps a bit vainly, whether I had been the muse of that particular song. The words rang a little too close to home for my liking.

Garrett played a few more covers and one more original song. When he was finished, our table erupted in applause and I clapped along with them. Garrett put his guitar back in the case and walked over to our group. Jordan clapped him on the back and Maysie gave him a hug.

Gracie tried to get to her feet, finally succeeding after much effort. “Garrett!” she squealed and practically fell on him as she attempted to wrap her arms around him. He laughed and helped her back into her seat.

“A little too much to drink again, huh, G?” he said with an obvious affection that annoyed the shit out of me. G? Garrett called her G? His use of my nickname for her bugged me more than it should. He accepted praise from the rest of his friends and purposefully ignored me the entire time. Okay, so this is how it was going to be obviously. How quickly the two of us fell back into our comfortable pattern of loathing and disdain for one another.



Garrett sat down across from me and Cole poured him a beer, which he accepted with a thanks before finishing it in one gulp. Vivian gave him a one armed hug, which he returned easily. I was the only one with my awkward hat on, feeling all kinds of socially dysfunctional.

“Good job,” I finally interjected because I couldn’t stand the thick layers of discomfort a moment longer. It wasn’t Garrett’s discomfort. It was clear he couldn’t give a shit whether I was here or not. The discomfort was mine alone and I thought I was going to gag on it.

Garrett looked at me over the rim of his mug as he took a drink of beer number two. His blond eyebrow arched as he set the glass down on the table. I gave him a weak impression of a smile. “Really, that was great. I wish you guys played that kind of music all the time. I might actually start to enjoy your shows,” I said, hoping my lack of composure could be hidden by a hefty dose of sarcasm.

Garrett didn’t respond, he only stared at me, his face void of all emotion. No verbal joisting. No snappy comeback. No barely laced annoyance. Just a big heap of nothing. And that bugged me…a lot.

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