Pretend & Prejudice

Chapter 2

~Miles~

I know record players are considered vintage so I am thinking of selling my brain to a vintage collecting store because this piece of crap has been stuck up playing Bohemian Rhapsody on repeat instead of being creative. 

I am facing severe writer's block for the past two weeks and my deadline is real fucking close. I know what to write but I can't figure out how to write that. It is so fucking frustrating because nothing I come up with feels right for the story. Every time something pops up in my head it feels repetitive and predictable. It's like I lost my element of uniqueness. 

The curser on my screen blinked at me and just like me it was stuck in one place. My hand went to glass of Jack Daniels sitting on the table beside me. One sip of that burning ember liquid down my throat gave me sense of peace for that moment. 

My eyes roam to my penthouse's floor to ceiling glass balcony as the night life of NYC is happening below me. The view from the 79th floor was breathtaking. Even though I was used to it some times the views take me in by surprise.

The city of New York never sleeps and that's why I chose to buy a house here after my discharge from the navy. I was a navy man for 9 years of my life and I need some place that felt close to sea to live in after my retirement. Every person gets confused as to how this is close to the sea well when I was first apartment hunting and I saw the view from this place the clouds around and underneath me morphed into the waves of the sea and that's when I decided that this was my home from now.

I looked at the time and it was 2:56 am. I had to go and rest but I didn't feel like to but honestly I never feel like sleeping because of my insomnia. The most amount of sound sleep I get is three hours maximum anything over that isn't possible. My pills do allow me to sleep a little longer than that but those pills are only for days when I feel so tired that there's no other option but to take them. Or for the days when I can't think straight and sleep is my only way out.

My muscles ached as I set the laptop aside. In one sip I downed the glass of whiskey and stood up from my chair. A sharp pain shot through my left leg as I stabilised myself. I hated everytime I felt that pain. It was reminder of what I had lost.

Ignoring that pain I walked to my kitchen and had some water. My phone started ringing.

Who the fuck is calling at three fucking am?

As a surprise to absolutely no one it was my older brother, Vincent Chae.

I picked up the phone, "Do you ever sleep?"

"I should ask the same to you because I am not the one pulling all nighters every day." He answered.

"Well technically you can't pull all nighters in the day." I said.

"Don't smart ass your way out of this. Why aren't you sleeping Miles?" He asked in his serious tone.

"I just am not sleepy. There's nothing new to that I guess." I leaned against the counter.

"Miles," He sighed in a disappointed tone.

"Calm the fuck down, edge lord. I am fine. I was just busy writing." I said.

"That doesn't excuse shit. How many times have I told you not to stay awake at night for writing?" He used his angry dad voice.

"And what else am I supposed to do? I can't give up on my only source of income. I'll be homeless without it. I am not billionaire like you." I purposefully said in sad tone.

I heard him release a long sigh from the other side. Honestly it was sweet how much he cared for me. But this wasn't something he could fix.

"Why aren't you sleeping right now?" I asked.

"I did sleep. I am in Italy for a meeting so it is already nine am here." Vincent said.

"Italy? Cool." I grabbed an apple from the fruit basket on the counter and bit into it

"Let me guess. You aren't taking your insomnia pills, are you?" He asked even though he already knew the answer.

"Those aren't for everyday use. I'll get addicted to them. Do you prefer a junky brother over an insomniac brother?" I sarcastically asked.

"I prefer a brother who gets some fucking sleep. I don't care whether if it is with the help of drugs or some fucking essential oil." He answered.

"You seem on the edge today. Don't worry I have already closed my laptop for the day. I'm going to bed now, dad." I rolled my eyes.

"You better and don't forget you have an appointment with Dr. Fuller next week." He said. 

"Yes, dad. Now hang up, I need to get some sleep." I hung up the phone. 

I walked to my room. The mirrors beside my bed reflected me and my brain went into scrambles again. The person in there wasn't me. He was was no one. The scar on my leg pierced through me. I hated the person staring back at me. That person took away my only sense of purpose in life.

All I saw there was a man wearing a happy mask and fooling the world. It took everything in me to look away from him. 

See, even you can't look at yourself. How do you expect anyone else to look at you? The voice in my head said. 

Shut the fuck up. I tried to shut it down. 

I opened my side drawer and took out my insomnia pills. I didn't want to take them but if I don't the fucking voices won't shut up. Well, I am going to have to repeat the same things to my  therapist.