--

She stood frozen at the doorway, staring at the scene in front of her. Miranda and Adam, entangled in each other's arms. Her blood pounded in her ear, not taking her eyes off the mess in front of her. She wanted to run away and scream, but her feet were stuck to the ground and her voice was caught in her throat.

They didn't notice her, or the expression on her face: hurt, anger, emptyness and pain. They just stood there, oblivious to the world around them. Harper closed the door as quietly as she opened it, she couldn't stand it anymore. Harper closed her eyes, trying to wipe the image out of her head, but it burned into her mind.

No, she would not shed any tears. She was simply just not that kind of girl.
Harper turned away from the door and walked toward the entrance of the bar, trying to avoid the drunked, smelly over-aged people and the mysterious sticky brown spots on the floor. She opened the door and stood at the carpark, scanning for her red Camaro.

Harper walked out of the bar, feeling the cool night's breeze nipping at her bare arms. Her eyes trying to fight back the angry tears.

Don't worry guys, she thought bitterly, walking over to her car.
The game's just begun.
And I always win.