His doll (You play, I play)

Chapter twenty nine

(you HAVE to listen to My mind & me by selena gomez for this chapter, it wont hit the same without it!!)

                             four weeks later

Bruno

I wake up, and my hand reaches out to the other side of my bed – empty, cold. This is the part where I usually smile, and I take it as a sign that the day is going to be good. Somewhere down the road I stopped reaching out in hopes of finding an empty bed, and  I started reaching out in hopes of touching long streaks of cinnamon brown hair.

And somehow down that road, each morning turned into an ugly reminder of something ending instead of a new start.

I take a cold shower, dress up and go through the usual routine but this time there's no singing, no dancing or cheering. It's silent steps, loud breaths and empty words.

When I'm done, I feed Barszik, and I give him treats that he hasn't worked for nor needed to work for, it isn't his fault though because this place is empty by choice.

The day goes one, I enter the office as usual. I meet Pablo and Luca in the hallway, the only difference is that we walk in silence.
"Don't you have a lame joke to tell?" Pablo asks, "maybe this time it'll be a good one."
"I want to hear a joke; I can use a good laugh." Luca says,
"I don't have one." I answer coldly.

It turns silent again, because we all know the truth.
Pablo doesn't think it'll be a good one. Luca doesn't think it's funny. I don't want to talk. We're all just in some sort of fucking bubble, pretending like every day isn't a miserable repeat of the previous one.

We finish all meetings, and I listen. I pretend like I do at least. Everything is boring, so fucking boring. Hours long meetings filled with people who love to hear their own voice, when no one gives a shit.

And then by the end of the day my favorite part comes where Luca says,
"Let's go to the club." Even though it's a Monday night but no one gives a shit about that either, we have everything right? We can do whatever the fuck we want. That's our life.

And we do exactly that. We leave for the club. Even Pablo comes, and he fucking drinks too. We drink our asses off and we pretend like there isn't an empty gap in all of our hearts, just for different reasons. It feels good, because we all know how fucked up we are and we enjoy going down that hole together.

The three billionaires that have everything at a young age, women, money and everyone in their fucking palm.. Yet all that can't satisfy that damn gap. It never can because that gap is in the hands of people that don't even realize it.

Pablo drinks but he doesn't get drunk, and because he's a noble man he leaves early, he'd rather be miserable at home without the risk of doing something that'll hurt his fiancé, even though she's the reason he's hurting and walking around with a frown on his face.

Luca isn't a noble man. He's a mad man. He drinks and he pops whatever pill he can get his hands on– and he lashes out. First, he lashes out on someone who bumped into him too hard, or looked at him the wrong way. When the sound of bones cracking doesn't satisfy him enough, he leaves and finds other ways to get his anger out.

And then there was one left. Bruno fucking Rodriguez.
I drink until I can't feel my mouth anymore. I watch hundreds of beautiful girls swarming around, dancing and glaring at me like there's nothing they want more than my attention. And for the longest time, those looks would feed the hunger in me but now I find myself searching for cognac eyes in a sea of blank eyes.

And when I don't find these eyes, and when I remember that they're long gone I settle for the latter. Or at least I try, but of course when your body and brain decide on two different things you'll always end up losing.

And by the end of the night, when I give up and I lay down in an empty cold bed I remember the words,

"This, this isn't living. You're surviving – but you're not living."

Amalie

The warmth of my mansion is suddenly gone, and the happiness I used to feel as I strolled down the hallway and greeted the maids is also gone.

My favorite part of my days is when I'm asleep. I sleep and I feel a pair of warm arms around me, and my body craves the feeling so much that it makes it into reality.. but then I open my eyes and face the reality i'm in right now. The reality where the arms around me aren't soaked in tattoos, the lips on my skin aren't soft and warm, and the eyes are blue and they don't make me feel like the first sip of hot chocolate on a cold winter day.

I train for hours, all day long and it feels good because it doesn't give my body the time to lust. And by the end of the day, my body is too exhausted to crave and search for the minty smell or reminisce the safe embrace.

When I'm done training I join the group meetings and I ignore my father's not so sneaky glances when he speaks of failed missions. I ignore them as much as I can. Sadly I can't ignore him, and I cant say no when he calls me to his office to tell me that he's disappointed. To remind me that Landon Rivers is still out there, that I almost ruined our reputation, that his partners aren't happy. I zone him out though, or at least I try.

Then when I'm done listening to how nothing is good enough – I go out. I drink and I party. I pretend like I'm having the best time of my life. I pretend like I don't wish I was in a king sized bed inside a guest room with creamy walls and one small round window. I pretend like I don't miss an apartment that has tape from start to end in the middle of the living room to the kitchen. I pretend.

It works, most of the time it really does.
Until the days I'm lying in bed with pain in my lower stomach. When the pain gets so bad that I have to run to the bathroom in the middle of the night and throw up. And then I sit there, on the cold tiles completely alone. And I remember that there's no one coming to hold me, no one is going to hold my hair while I throw up. No one is going to run me a warm bath and bathe me and soothe me. No one is going to take care of me and make me feel like I'm the prettiest when I'm feeling the ugliest. Kiss me and change me into something too big but comfortable and hold me till I'm falling asleep. No one is going to do that.

Though I don't want anyone to do that, I want one person to do that.
Then I remember that the only person I want to do all that with doesn't want to do it with me. That one person doesn't think I'm good enough either and that by now he's probably already had different replacements in that same spot he had me.

I remember that, and I go on with my day as all the clouds inside me start to rain.

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Okay. NOW we're done with the sad chapters (maybe, maybe not) i'm getting depressed just by writing this and that says enough. -Red