I Need To Be Perfect

Liam’s POV:

The garage had just one yellow bulb; it wasn’t enough to light up the entire garage, but it was focused on Aria’s face. She looked cute under the yellow light.

She looked away and focused on the meat. I was pretty sure she had no idea of its source; if only she knew it was chevon… I am sure she would spit it all out.

“Hey,” I waved at my little man, who hurried to me with a bottle of the homemade corn beer. I filled a glass and shoved it to Aria.

“This is really good,” she muttered, and I nodded.

“I drank the finest wine back in Italy, but nothing tastes like this,” I said, and she turned her attention to me.

“Why did you have to go there?”

I shrugged my shoulder. “To make my mom happy,” I answered, and she laughed; her laugh was so beautiful… Damn, she is so pretty.

“I didn’t take you for the mommy type,” she said between her laughs. I reached out and shoved some strings of hair from her face; she was staring at me with a smile.

“What is it you love?” I asked, and she raised a brow.

“Huh?”

“I asked what you love,” I repeated, and she nodded.

“I heard you… It’s just surprising you asked me that.”

Why was it surprising? From the look on her face, I could tell it was the first time she heard such a question, which was funny because she was such a cute person.

“So will you answer?”

Aria bit her lower lip, and something so normal looked so exotic, so sensational.

“Books”

“And?”

“Music”

I didn’t want to know about the basic things she liked, but it’s fine… I will find out on my own. It was obvious she didn’t know the things she liked; she was too reserved and missed out on the fun.

I refilled her glass, and she took a sip before scanning the place. “You have great friends.”

“They are my family,” I stated, and she nodded before gulping down the entire drink.

“You have a beautiful family.” Then she shoved her glass to me, requesting a refill, and I gladly did that as she kept drinking.

“Everyone listen up,” Julian yelled, gaining everyone’s attention.

“This is Cool Kid; he just released a track, and since he is one of our own, we must support him, okay?”

Everyone kept screaming, they installed the speakers, and the kid started singing.

Aria kept tapping her feet to the beat and had a wide smile on her face…

“We outside…yeah, we outside…yeah,” they kept singing and dancing. I stood up and extended a hand to Aria.

She took my hand before I brought her to join the others; she kept laughing happily as everyone kept screaming, and she even attempted to dance, and that little swift moment was great.

“Liam…do you dance?” She yelled, probably thinking we were in a bar and I couldn't get her.

“It’s late; I will take you home.”

She shook her head in denial. “I want to dance.” She kept jumping with the others and moved her body to the beat.

“Liam, this music is so cool.” She kept jumping to the beat and walked to me, held my hand, and kept dancing.

She was completely drunk, and it was normal; she had more than a bottle.

I retracted my phone and took a video of her dance; she probably won’t remember this happy moment of hers tomorrow.

I let her dance for a while before dragging her out of the garage. “Where are your keys?” I grabbed her bag and checked inside; it contained her car keys.

“Why are we leaving? I don’t want to leave…” She pouted; her cheeks were already red.

“We are going to a better party,” I teased, and her eyes lit up.

“There will be music? Cool kid’s music?”

We got to her car, and I shoved her in and tightened her seat belt before I got in and drove away.

“What’s your home password?” I questioned, I remember the last time I was there she didn’t use a key to open a door, so it must be a code.

“9…9…Oops.” She closed her mouth and started laughing. “Are you trying to go steal at my place?”

“Yeah,” I answered with sarcasm and kept driving. She grabbed my hand, and her eyes were sore.

“Can you please not? Or you could take anything, but please don’t touch my pillow…”

My brows furrowed; that house probably contained her most expensive jewelry and gadgets, and all she cared about was a pillow?

“Why the pillow?”

She shook her head and kept staring out of the window, then she whirled it down as the chilly breeze brushed past her face.

“Don’t touch.” I closed the window and noticed she was crying; countless tears were rolling down her cheeks, so I parked the car by the side and placed my hand on hers.

“I won’t touch your pillow, so don’t cry.”

“If you take my pillow, then how will I go to sleep at night? What will I use to quiet my sobs every night? All my precious tears, where will they go?” She kept asking, and I clenched my fist. Does she cry herself to sleep every night? Or was she just talking drunk?

“You don’t need to quiet your sobs,” I assured her. I wanted her to know it was okay to cry whenever she felt like it; there was no need to try to hide it from others. It was okay to be impolite if a situation made you uncomfortable.

“I can’t cry before people; I never got to drink outside because it will make me look bad.” She chuckled and sniffed her tears.

“I just don’t want to look bad; I need to be perfect.”

I kept listening to her, and how she thinks she owes a perfect life to society.

Then she grabbed her mouth tightly. “Oh, no…” I couldn’t reach for the door on time as she crouched and vomited all over her clothes. Oh shit.