Riles has never experienced love. Sure, he's been with hundreds, if not thousands of women, but they were always the one throwing themselves at him. He was nonchalant. Everything always came his way, without him actually caring about anything. He always thought he was the catch. And he was. The beautiful one. The cool one. The wanted one. The one that was allowed to act however he wanted to, because he knew the other person would still beg for him to come back to them. And he was right to feel like this. He was a famous, rich, young actor, and model who came from the ends of London. He came from nothing, as a roadman and became something everyone wanted. And he was used to his lifestyle. To all his luxuries. To all his women. To all the fucking drugs. Shit, he was madly addicted. Heroin, cocaine, weed. Injected, sniffed, smoked, swallowed. And he loved it, too. He embraced it to its full power. He was there for a good time, not a long time. And he was used to the superficial, shallow nature of humans. That's why he never expected to click with someone. To commit to someone. He knew he would never have a serious, commited relationship or a family. And he was fine with that. Not just fine, but actually happy. Proud of himself, of his life. All until he met someone through a mutual friend a few months ago. Maybe she seemed so appealing, so intriguing because she was so successful on her own. So famous and rich too. But it wasn't that he liked. He liked her stubbornness. She was always right. Always. And she always knew how to make herself right. Difficult woman, that. Fucking difficult. Not for just anyone. Nah. No one could ever reach her complexity. But Riles decided : he'd die trying. All he could think of was her. Her words were hypnotising him. And she...she was absolutely consuming him. He couldn't escape her. Even in his dreams...there was only her. And it was killing him. Like a dagger, crippling his heart. He had to have her.