How to Destroy a Rich Boy

Chapter Five

Putting a pen between my lips, I hummed happily to myself as I thought of another little thing to add to my book. 

I was currently sat at my desk, busily scribbling away in the brand-new journal. It was titled: 'My plan to destroy Nathan Woods.' 

Yes, I know this was slightly childish of me, but I couldn't help it. I was excited. It was around two in the morning, and I'd spent the last half-an-hour vigilantly searching the internet for any little detail I could find on Nathan Woods. 

If anyone were to check my search history, they would assume I was a stalker. 

Which I technically was...

But it was fine. I was only doing this as part of the job. To successfully manipulate him, I needed every last scrap of information I could find on him. All the way from his favorite meal to where he got his hair cut. 

Okay, maybe I didn't need to know where he got his hair cut but, the more information, the better.

"Soph, no offense, but it's creeping me out how much you seem into this whole stalking thing," Brandon called out from behind me.

 I turned around to face him with a sigh. He was spread out on my bed like a starfish. Instead of residing in his half of our shared apartment, he claimed that he needed to give me 'moral support for my stalking endeavors.'

"Well, screwing this dude over is my new job now, so I need to take this seriously," I explained simply.

Brandon nodded his head. "Fair point. Can I hear what you've collected so far," he asked, pulling himself into a seated position. 

"Sure," I chirped as I reached for my notebook.

I held it out before me and cleared my throat. "Target: Nathan Woods. Nathan is a twenty-year-old egotistical bastard who studies economics at the university of-"

I was interrupted by a snort. Turning back around, I found Brandon staring at me with tendrils of laughter sparkling in his eyes. "First of all, love the description very professional," he snickered. "And secondly, how does he do the same course as you, but you've never seen or heard of him before?"

I smiled and slowly shook my head before making a dramatic flip to the next page of the book. "Well, that's mentioned here on page two," I said, briefly clearing my throat in preparation to speak. 

 "Nathan Woods suffers from a devastating sex addiction that has severely compromised his education!" I read out sharply.

 Brandon snorted the second I was done. "A sex addiction, how did you come to that?"

"Well, I had a good old scroll through his socials, and all of them are full of all kinds of pictures and stories of him dicking himself down. And they are always followed by some dumb caption about him missing another lecture," I scoffed. 

Brandon's eyes widened comically wide. "He takes pictures of himself fucking!" he cried.

 I shook my head frantically. "No, no, no, no! God, no! It's usually just pictures of them lying together from the waist up, afterward," I stammered out rapidly. I did not need Brandon to think I had spent the last half-an-hour scrolling through porn of Nathan.

"Oh, thank god, got worried for a second," Brandon snickered as he hopped himself off the bed. Leaning over my shoulder, he looked down at my notebook with analytical eyes. 

"Erm..did you have to underline the word sex-addiction in red sharpie, fifty-million times," he mumbled.

 Not ashamed in the slightest, I shrugged. "Didn't say anything that wasn't true, did I?"