Pretty lies

eleven- bad boys for life

Isadora Rose:

Three days later:

I am currently sat on the sofa with Rico and Mia whilst Silvia, Santiago and Amaya rest against it and sit on the floor. Amaya came back a few hours ago. She was so sorry that she had missed the funeral. I told her it was fine but she insisted that she would repay me somehow.

Bad boys for life is playing on fue tv. I know it's not the best thing for Rico but at this point I just need a distraction. For the past three days, I have been stuck in my bed, unable to move.

Stage four- depression

Everyone around me is waiting for me to crack or break down and honestly, so am I. At the beginning of this process, I cried every night and could literally feel my heart breaking in my chest. Now I feel empty and shallow.

"Isa, come with me to make more popcorn." Amaya whispers to me and I nod is response.

We both make our way over to the kitchen and I already know that there is something she wants to talk about.

"Spit it out Maya."

"Spit what out?" She asks trying to mask her concern.

"I know you too well to not know when there is something on your mind."

"You keep saying you are ok but I don't know if I believe that anymore."

"What do you want me to say? That I'm falling apart or that I don't know how the hell I am going to cope." I say quietly, trying not to let the kids hear.

"I want you to be honest with me instead of saying that you are fine because you are always 'fine'." I understand where she is coming from but I really don't want to face that right now.

"I don't know how to respond to that."

"I'm not saying you need the answer to every question and I am saying that you have got to think about how you are feeling and how to cope with that."

"I hate it when you're right."

"Then you must hate me a lot." Amaya states with a smug grin on her face.

"Wow ok we went there."

"Went were?" I hear as Silvia enters the kitchen.

"She's just pissed that I'm right."

"I am not." I try to defend myself.

"Honey, it's ok to accept defeat." Silvia says ,putting her arm around me.

"This is bullying!"  I shout as I walk away.

"It's love!" Amaya shouts back.

I walk past the living room and into my room. It's filthy. There is dirty, unfolded clothes piling on a chair. There is a plate on god knows what under my bed. I love organisation and hate anything otherwise. So the fact that this does not bother me, proves that this is my breaking point.

Alessandro Marino:

It has been three days since the funeral of Sofia Rose. It has been three days since I thought straight.

I had known this woman for a night but I couldn't get her out of my mind. My usual girls could no longer suffice. This angered them because they could see the lack of satisfaction in my face every time I told them to leave. One girl in particular hated the fact that I didn't want her anymore. Juliette.

I had met Juliette when we were twelve because our parents wanted us married by the time we were eighteen. That never happened and she hated that.

Juliette wants children, marriage, a future and she wants it with me. But I don't want her ; I never have and never will.

It sounds cruel but my mother always told me to give honesty even when it is not asked for. That is ironic since our family is in the lying business.

When people want something, they chase it, they search and fight for it. But when the chase is up and they have lost, they give up. Juliette refuses to give up. That just isn't who she is and in a way i admire that ,but in this context I hate it.

I have dreamt about the things I would do to Isadora if I ever saw her again. She is the late Sofia Rose's granddaughter and I am a Marino ,so I am sure that our paths will cross again soon.

My thought are interrupted by Solo, prancing around my living room.

"This is how we do it." He sings. Why am I friends with him? I have no fucking clue.

"Solo." I call out for him to stop and listen.

"It's Friday night and I feel alright. The party is here on the west side." He continues singing. I spot the headphones dangling from his ears.

"Tristan shut the fuck up!" I shout out. Still nothing from Mr Montell Jordan over here.

"So I reach for my forty and I turn it up. Designated driver take the keys to my truck." The mother fucker. Sick of his shit, I pull the wires from his ears causing him to be pulled down to the floor. He is like a giant domino chain ; you tap it and the whole thing falls.

"Oh, hey Ace. How you doin' man?" He asks as he looks up at me from where he lays.

"Get up."

"Ok ok keep your drawers on. I'm up, see." Tristan mutters as he gets back on his feet.

"I told you to be here an hour ago." Every day he shows up late, every day for the past ten years.

"Did you though?"

"Are you seriously questioning me right now?" I get up in his face.

"Calm down Mike Tyson. I have a pretty face don't ruin it." Mike Tyson, seriously.

"A pretty face?"

"Yep my mama says so."

"I don't give a shit what your mama said." He dramatically gasps at what I just said.

"You take that back." His hand shakes as he points to me.

"Pull yourself together." I say, moving his finger out of my face.

"After all those lasagnes she made for you." They were some damn good lasagnes.

"You should be ashamed of yourself."

"Should I though?" I question.

"Don't use my words against me."

"Or what? You going to tell your mama."

"Yeah then see what happens." Wow I'm shaking in my boats. Don't hurt me Latrice.

"She gon' kick your fine ass." I have a fine ass?

"And yes, I said what I said." Tristan stated before walking off. I am left standing here speechless. Ok then.