Tellers of Lies [UNEDITED]

Prologue

Isha

Vomiting helps remove stress, as I have read so, in a magazine.

I am considering and brooding over ways to vomit my stress out because, I am messed up.

Totally. Immensely. Vividly.

After all, it hasn't been an eventful day for me, considering how my manuscript got turned down by three publishing companies (once again), and as an additional package, received harsh criticisms.

As I sit here at Lola Hwang's birthday party, my head swings with all sorts of pessimistic thoughts. The ridicules, condemnations, insecurities...each and every single thing gnaws at me with its claws.

What if I never get to achieve my dreams of one day becoming a published author?

What if I have never been a good writer?

What if I fail?

The prospect of failure has always been shuddering to me. I can imagine anything. Overcome fear over anything, even my worst of phobias. But can never harbour courage when it comes to facing failure. And I have been facing absolute, catastrophic failure, for the past four years.

"Here's your—"

I do not let the bartender finish his words before chugging down seven shots of vodka, despite knowing I am a lightweight drinker. Why? Because I am desperate to forget everything. At least for one night.

Lola Hwang, the birthday girl, my best friend, and the main attraction of today's party, is not near, for obvious reasons. She has always been the one to handle my drunken ass whenever I had the crazy urge to get heavily intoxicated on stressful university nights.

Before I allow myself to fully slip into the state of drowsy insobriety, I send a quick text to the group chat, consisting of me and my sisters.

Me: Am drunk. Starlight Avenue. Dazzler Club.

I am too drunkenly befuddled to wait for their reply. Being on the verge of falling asleep, I grow unaware of my surroundings. Not until, I catch a glimpse of golden locks. Someone, who looks quite similar to a certain individual.

"That's my jerk ex." I blurt out to myself before slipping off from the bar stool, taking my purse, and following him and his two companions. I don't forget to send a text to Lola about leaving early though, else she would go whole momma-bear mode the next day.

"Killian!" I yell loudly, catching the golden-haired male's attention. A dreamy smile appears on my face when I finally receive his heed. I stumble forward, but he is a gentleman who catches my arm. I glance up at him, through my blurry vision.

My glasses. Right. They are in my purse, and I am too lazy to take them out now. Instead, my palms softly meet both of his cheeks.

Oh? When did Killian's cheeks turn so squishy?

"Why are you squishy?" I slur, pinching Killian's cheeks, and trying to investigate the matter myself. "Did you get a surgery or something?"

My lips frown when I do not receive an answer. I retort, "You are ignoring me again. Am I that uninteresting to you, Killian? Is that why you broke up with me over a single text, one year ago?"

Tears prickle my eyes. All bundled up emotions from the heartbreak, stress, failure piled up, come flowing out like a damn waterfall. "I miss you. I hope you were here with me. I need you in my life the most now."

A warm embrace takes my breath away seconds later. A soothing palm pats my hair not long after, followed by a honey-dripping voice.

"There, there, Miss. It's all right."