With his young ages passes with his reckless, impulsive and fully pyscho behaviours, he was still had his scars and trying to fix himself. It is not like he still didnt had anger issues and daddy issues, but now, he was grown up. He was 30. He needed to meet with life early, he took his dad’s company when his dad passed, so, he was already a CEO in his 20. He needed to man up, take care of his 13 year old sister, and also didnt want to leave everything on his step mom, the woman who raised him.

But he was longing something even he was fixing everything: a partner, a family of his. It’s when you show up to his life. He first saw you in Country Club that he owned; you were playing tennis with your friend, you were wearing a pink mini tennis dress. You were sweet, really sweet. And lately, you were coming Country Club a lot.

You were younger than him. You were only 20. You were bratty and high maintenance, always princessy, probably the reason of you grew up in the rich, spoiled kook life. You were looking too ethereal, too innocent, too pure: doe blue eyes, white milk skin, blonde shiny silky hair always made sure looking pretty, plumpy glossy pink lips, fluffy eyelashes. Always wearing pinky stuff, a short of mixed slutty and innocenty aura. Your mom is always wondering how you got to be so ditzy considering that both of her parents are very smart with good jobs.

You went and watch him while playing golf. You walk into the Country Club like the world owes you an apology, eyes cutting through the air like blades made of diamonds. You were the kind of beautiful that ruins people — too flawless to approach without the risk of losing yourself. You talked.

“Hoooow you guys are in this? It’s the most boring thing ever, you must be either boring or 50.”

She takes a sip from her cocktail, looks at him. He looks at him with his icy blue eyes. He was wearing khai shorts and Ralph Lauren polo tshirt. He has a deep, thick and literally attractive voice.

“Or own this club, kid.”