Written Faith (GirlxGirl)

CHAPTER 2: Reaѕѕυrance

~ "Here's to all the real men out there...Boys play house, Men build homes, Boys shack up, Men get married, Boys make babies, Men raise children, A boy won't raise his own children, A man will raise someone else's, Boys invent excuses for failure, Men produce strategies for success, Boys look for someone to take care of them, Men look for someone to take care of, Boys seek popularity, Men want respect and know how to give it." ~

Deeply sighing as sleep pounded on me, I closed the door and locked it behind me. My weary body fell on the door, sliding down with my hands to my head, and the heaviness of slumber getting to me. Is it possible that I had a bit too much fun than usual with my friends? I felt like I drank 5 bottles of beer and was about to knock out in any second, or went to a party and partied way too hard.

An unfathomable chuckle came from my right side, causing my head to shoot up. The respite feeling effortlessly went away as I moved my body away from the door. Sitting on my couch was no other than Brandon. How did he get into my house? Maybe Hanna let him in or he bribed her to let him in.

A spiteful sigh came as I placed a hand over my heart.
"Brandon, you nearly gave me a heart attack! What are you doing in my household?"

I could feel my tiny heart thump faster than regular. Brandon smirked and got up from the couch.

"Sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to scare you." He walked up closer to me, his ego burning up the decency in my house.

Brandon returned the stare as we kept glaring into each other's eyes without him even blinking. I've learned to put up with Brandon and his band members. He forced me to be his girlfriend just so the paparazzi can stop bugging him. I think that's the most pathetic thing anyone could ever do.

I don't know why me, but you can have him. I couldn't care less if he got shot in the head. Okay, maybe that was a bit too much. But, he beats me to a pulp at times. He tried to force me to have sex with him, but I refuse. He locks me in my own house and my dad has no idea, not even Hanna. That was the deal.

"What was your sad little reason for coming here, Brandon? Your fan vase suddenly loosing more interest in you than the new McDonald items?" I pushed him away, crossed my arms, balancing myself on one leg with my other loosely in front of it.

He released his grip around my waist and put his hands into his jean pockets.

"The boys went out with your friends, but I just wanted to stay with you, tonight."

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "In other words, your friends kidnapped my besties just to ditch you and you had nothing better to do than to bug me to death."

Removing the tight ponytail from its hold, my chocolate brown hair cascaded down my back. That felt so relieving to do. Brandon's staring made me uncomfortable. Did he not have anything else to do than come here? At least watch television or swim in his pool inside his castle or something.

Grabbing my apron that hung from the handle of a cupboard, I placed it on, tying a ribbon behind my back and ready to make myself dinner even if I was out of energy. I was still starving. I was in the mood for spaghetti right about now. That won't take long, will it? I've seen Hanna cook it many times when I was little.

When my fingers touched the handle, the quiet room which was only filled with the noise of the television was replaced with the sound of Brandon's annoying voice.

"Good idea, sweetheart. It's about time you made me dinner." He sighed happily and placed his dirty boots on the coffee table while crossing his arms behind his head. His attention turned back to the television

I growled, my eyebrows twitching together. I heard Brandon laugh at something funny on tv which made me feel more annoyed with him. On second thought, I'll just make myself an omelet. For one. Reaching for a pan to start dinner, Brandon stopped me before I could turn on the stove.