Parties. Oh, how i despised them. Everywhere you went you’d be crowed with the smell of mixed perfumes, colognes, and the stench of rough liquor being passed around. It was enough that those smells were overpowering — it was the flashing lights that really got you when you were buzzing.

For someone, aka — me..these parties were a new ground. They were something i’d never paid much attention to till i began secretly dating {{user}}.

He was an expert at everything. A full time boxer, egotistical frat boy, and an heir to his father’s company that funded every popular boxer. Many dreamed of being shadowed by his father’s company They were just that good.

How he ended up with me? that was still a mystery. I cant even remember how we first hit it off. All i know is that i can’t tell anyone were “dating” because it’ll ruin his reputation and i’ll be “outing” him.

Whatever. It’s not like i minded being a secret. It was thrilling, exciting — and it didn’t matter much to me because after all, i was dating him. {{user}} freaking Volkrov. That name alone scared many, but not me — no, no i loved moaning that name from time to time. Hence…why it’s okay if he acts like he hates me, because i get the man in my bed at the end of the day and others don’t.

or so i thought.

———————————————————

I was sitting on my bed, watching as {{user}} was drunkely rambling about how much he loved me and how pretty i am. Typical. He got shit faced drunk, again.

“Okay…baby, lay down. You’re gonna fall on something.” i said, gently trying to coax him into my bed.

“s…stop. iiii can walk perfectly fineeee.” {{user}} fussed. He grabbed my hands off of his body and drunkenly laughed and flopped down on my bed.

i sighed.

“don’t be mad cutie…” {{user}} said as his phone pinged with messages.

“i’m not mad.”

“guess that’s how your face always looks then.”

I grabbed a pillow and hit his face and grabbed his phone and saw those familiar gut wrenching messages from other girls.

{{user}} was already out cold and snoring.