Author's Note: Okay, okay. It's been a while. Maybe a month? That's long for me. I hope you're either completely unbothered by this unreasonable lack of new fanfics, or that you're so delighted to see another fanfic up on this board that you've decided to forgive my inactivity immediately. But in my defence, school was hectic and writer's block is an absolute bitch when you're on the receiving end of it. Yikes.

Okay. Sort of not really rant over. Anyway, this is an unnamed outsider's perspective of Kailex, so sit back and enjoy. The end was a little rushed because I forgot how I originally planned how to wrap this fic up. (Grr. Stupid writer's block.) And as always, disclaimer that I sadly don't own the Medoran Chronicles.

/ / /

It's not very becoming of me. Instead of channelling my emotions into something so aggressively productive and so awe-inspiring to all other victims of cheating scumbag boyfriends, I'm instead alternating between bawling my eyes out and furiously changing the name of one of the characters in my latest story. Because Kendra is no longer some kind of badass-yet-appealingly-obscure name. Kendra is now a-total-boyfriend-stealing-bitch-face name, and I obviously have to remedy that.

And if I'm not being theatrical enough, then there's also the fact I'm not in the standard post break-up routine where I'm holed up in my room with hoards of tissues and chocolates, blasting break-up songs from my music speakers. Noooo. I'm making myself appear even more pathetic by breaking down over a cheating ex-boyfriend, IN THE MIDDLE OF A FREAKING COFFEE SHOP.

I mean, I can kind of see why Tristan had just decided to cheat on me instead of the much less degrading option of calling a break-up. Like, if my besties Jade or Cassidy were here with me right now, and they could mysteriously read my thoughts (impossible, since none of us are lucky enough to be enrolled at Akarnae Academy), they'd probably be screaming something like, Don't you dare blame yourself for this! You're freaking awesome! Tristan is a total dick! — et cetera, et cetera. All of that self-love propaganda you feel obliged to pummel down on a beloved friend after they've just been through the heart-breaking upheaval of being cheated on.

Like, I know I'm not the most impressive girl on offer. I might be somewhat pretty enough to make some of the lower bars of societal conventional beauty standards or whatever, but in all honesty, I'm a total nerd at heart. I take extra curricular subjects like philosophy and Freyan Studies. I tutor kids in the school library. I run for school council. That sort of thing. And Tristan's one of those gorgeous, brooding-musician-slash-popular-hottie guys. Being his girlfriend had been pretty freaking amazing.

That was, until the asshole decided to cheat on me.

So that's why I'm crying my eyes out, snot streaming out and everything, the whole sobbing shebang, in the middle of a coffee shop, and in the process of renaming my character who had formerly been named Kendra.

And after some online investigation (Cassidy's great at the whole hacking thing. Like man, she has skill) we had been able to learn everything that social media had to offer on the chick that had been hooking up with my boyfriend whilst I was valiantly teaching some thirteen-year-old algebraic concepts or whatever. And it turned out that Kendra was one of those total, completely stereotypical, angel-faced vipers. Her social media feed is enough evidence of it. It's all group photos taken at wild parties or selfies where she's obviously showing off her cup size. And she is gorgeous, I'll admit, but once Cassidy got into her private messaging, it proved that Kendra was nothing more than a shallow, seductive bitch with the gift of a pretty face.

So yeah. I'm pretty mad. I mean, not only did Tristan cheat on me, but he cheated on me with one of those girls.

It's only when I've frantically reread my story three times over, just to be certain that every last "Kendra" has been replaced with "Hayley" (totally less obscure, but whatever), do I finally look up and take in my surroundings. It looks like any other coffee shop. Servers taking orders and scribbling badly spelt names on plastic cups, overworked baristas firing away at the machines, the mill of customers, people lounging around in the armchairs and on the barstools with their ComTCDs and cups of freshly bought beverages.

And then, I see the couple.

It freaking feels like I've been punched in the gut. Less than three seconds gazing at them, and I automatically know they're one of those unreasonably adorable couples that completely reset the dating standards. They're occupying one of the squashy leather couches, the girl cuddled into the guy's side with his arm tucked around her, her knees resting slightly in his lap. She's holding one of those overdone chocolate milkshake extravaganzas, whilst her boyfriend holds an actual coffee. And here's the thing: they're talking to one another, actually conversing. Not a ComTCD in sight. The guy's making gestures with his free hand, and very so often he tips his head back with a laugh as his girlfriend grins up at him, shaking her head fondly, before lightly jabbing his collarbone and reeling him back into a clearly playful conversation.

I mean, me and Tristan were like that. Happy. In love. Blissfully ignorant. At least, that was what I'd thought we'd been like.

It's not the couple's fault, even though I'm now slightly transfixed by them. I mean, for one, they're both super attractive. The sort that makes the heads of both girls and guys turn when they walk by. The guy's not really my type, but still, he's pretty gorgeous. Tall, tan, muscular, with dark hair that falls into eyes so blue I can see their vibrancy from even this distance. And his girlfriend is no better, the sort of pretty you automatically compare yourself to no matter how secure you feel in your own skin. Shiny brown hair, sparkling eyes, faultless complexion, long lean legs. That whole supermodel job description.

And the worst part is, even though they're total strangers, you can see that they're absolutely crazy for one another. There's this sort of glow about the girl, and the way the guy is looking at her makes my heart twist. Tristan never looked at me like that. Not once.

I'm actually getting major déjà vu from a previous experience with Jade. Like, Jade had been crushing majorly on this kid, Nathan, who thankfully liked her back. But instead of just getting over themselves and dating, they instead skirted around each other for months like freaking twelve-year-olds. Boy did they pine over one another. By the time they finally got their shit together, they were the most freaking adorable couple. Like, ever. I mean, they weren't too smoochy (but still pretty cuddly), and Nathan was so sweet to her it wasn't even funny, and you could just feel the air literally shift, when around them, with what they felt for one another.

This couple really reminds me of Jade and Nathan.

Like, I've seen plenty of couples today, and it's made me want to rip my heart out, over and over again. I wanted to scream at them. Stop looking so adorable and happy! Some of us have just been dumped by a cheating asshole! Or the alternative: Look, honey, that asshole's probably going to cheat on you, or knock you up and then ditch you. Guys are dicks like that.

I'm in such a great mood today.

But here's the thing: I don't have the heart to say something like that to that brunette cuddled up on the couch with her boyfriend. Maybe it's because I can sympathise with her, giddy as anything, basking in the love of a sweet boy. Or maybe it's the soft way he's looking at her, like she freaking saved the world or something. Because, in the perfect dynamic of what's sitting across from me in a standard coffee shop, is something I never got with Tristan. Something that's innocently tentative and beautifully uncomplicated and completely intoxicating.

I can't bring myself to ruin it for that girl. For that couple.

Then the girl shrieks with laughter, her boyfriend's arm snared around her waist as he drags her into his lap. They're graciously still not smoochy. If they do decide to start swapping saliva, then I'm pretty sure all of my generous musings about another girl's shot at young love will be dashed, and I'll be sorely tempted to dump my now-cold coffee on them.

I sneak glances up from my ComTCD tablet, my attention captured by the couple. It's like they're in a bubble of their own, as she pushes at his chest and half-heartedly demands to him to let her resume her previous position. With a lingering kiss pressed to her cheek, the boyfriend drops his arms, and she once again settles back at his side. They're gaining attention by now, a few other customers shooting them glances that are a variety of curious, amused, and somewhat disapproving.

And then there's the girls like me, who are either helter-skelter brainstorming some corny teenage love story inspired by what's in front of us (likely only me) or frantically texting somebody about how absolutely goals that the random couple in the coffee shop are.

As far as I'm concerned, it should be illegal for a victim of an unfaithful boyfriend to have to witness this sort of thing, the day after she was dumped for another girl. Maybe I should be pissed. Maybe I should start crying again. Maybe I should loudly tell them to get a room. I can almost imagine their reacting to that last one - shameless giggling, untangling themselves from one another, shuffling out of the coffee shop wrapped in each other. Couples are sickening like that.

But before anyone in the coffee shop can call out the couple on PDA, as limited as it was, the guy gets to his feet, holding out a hand to help his girl up. Together they walk towards one of the rectangular bins to deposit their now empty beverages. Then he drapes an arm around her shoulders - casual, but with enough of a grip to well and completely cross the line of platonic.

Then the couple walk out of the coffee shop, with nothing more than a merry jangle of the bell positioned over the entry door to indicate this. For a long moment my eyes remain on their retreating profiles - and then they're gone, well and truly.

It's final. That sort of adorable perfection in a relationship, should be ruled as totally illegal. Even if it's something I'd kill for myself.

/ / /

A bit different from the usual - wait, who am I kidding. That is a LOT different from the usual. But I hope you guys enjoyed this little insight into Kailex, so please let me know if you did!

aka. Scroll down a little bit further and leave me a nice little review. And just for the record, I behave like an overly excited dog when I get notifications for fanfic reviews. So go ahead and make me go into Excited Doggo mode.

Okay. I'm done now.