I glanced towards his direction, he was wearing the same outfit he wore at my birthday.
I know he purposely blasted his music up to make it obvious he doesn't care.
I know he purposely turned it down when I started talking on the phone.
Peeking through my hair, I'm aware he was looking at my direction.
I could read his eyes.
They're pitying me.
Just like how everyone does.
Don't look at me like that.
It makes me feel hideous.
You know I'm not afraid to say I still love you.