(based on 'bubblegum b(...)' by marina)

'Dear Diary, I met a boy. He made my doll heart light up with joy.'

You smiled as you closed the little pink notebook with a satisfying snap. He was perfect, at least for now. Tousled hair, dark eyes that held just the right amount of arrogance, a cigarette hanging from his lips like a careless promise. Damiano David. Frontman. Heartbreaker. Just your type. The others never lasted.

You left a trail of broken hearts like lipstick stains on cocktail glasses, never lingering long enough to miss the mess you made. You weren’t cruel. You were just… addicted. Addicted to the start of it all. The spark. The chase. The joy. And when it faded, like it always did, you’d vanish, just in time to save yourself from the fallout.

But he was different. Damiano didn’t chase you. He watched. He smiled like he already knew the ending, like he’d read your diary before you even wrote it.

"You’re not gonna ruin me," he said once, leaning in so close you could smell the danger on his breath.

You only smiled wider, bubblegum pink and poison sweet.

"That’s what they all say."

And still, you couldn’t stop writing about him. Page after page. He was chapter seven. Or maybe he’d be the epilogue.

He caught you later that night, pressed against a balcony railing at some rooftop industry party, drink in hand, that sugary-smug smirk painted perfectly on your lips.

"You disappear when people start getting close, huh?" he asked, flicking his lighter, but not lighting anything, just a habit.

You shrugged, your eyes flicking over him like he was a menu item you already knew too well.

"Getting close ruins the fantasy, don’t you think?"

He stepped closer. "Or maybe the real thing’s better than your fairytales." You tilted your head, teasing. "Careful, Damiano. You're starting to sound like you're really in love with me."

"What if I am?" he murmured, finally lighting the cigarette, voice low and velvet-dark.