Part 1

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"I don't see it as a disability, but more like a syndrome. A strange one that doesn't let me enjoy in peace but, apparently, has an exception."

.

.

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He never gave himself the time to think of how much this affects his life. According to him, the fact that things transformed themselves to be monotone and boring from one moment to the other wasn't something that required his attention anyways.

He was used to any activity that appeared to be fascinating to him for a few seconds, would then turn into the stupidest thing ever that he wouldn't bother in ever trying.

It was always like this— with everything. He never had a stable relationship because he would get bored and hopelessly lose interest in a matter of minutes. It was the same with friends.

It's just that the sole idea of hanging out with the same person once more to talk about things he had to pretend to be interested in made him sick. This is why he preferred to 'have fun' in bars, clubs, brothels, whatever attracted him even for a microsecond in search of experimenting pleasure for once in his life.

Ah, the pleasure of life that seemed he would never experience...

Until now.

He knew it the instant in which his blue eyes met with the dark ones of the stunning chick who brought attention to herself from those that surrounded her.

At first, he pretended to not care because either way, it was just a matter of seconds before this was as such, but this time, it didn't happen. Minutes passed and that woman who sat on the fluffy pillows behind her— with an ivory-pale hand, tucked a strand of black hair behind an ear as her purple-tinted lips moved to form a smile inhibited from some guy's pick-up line that he couldn't avoid saying almost as if it were an exclamation of surprise to see her— continued being fascinating to his eyes.

Their gazes seemed to last an entire minute. She had turned to look at nothing in particular with her attractive eyes and had met with his.

Menma doubted for a few moments in his interior. He thought that if he continued looking at her, that the effect she had on him at that moment would pass, but nothing, it was still there. A burning spark in his interior that seemed to burn and a strangely sweet aroma that he had never felt in the air got him drunk in all of what that visual contact lasted.

"Sir."

The bartender broke the contact. Menma turned his face towards the young man that asked him what he wanted to drink as he cleaned a glass.

"Who is she?" He asked without being able to avoid it, pointing with a gesture of his head in direction towards the girl while with his finger, he casually indicated the liquor he wanted in the occasion. "Does she work here? How much does she charge?" He wanted to know immediately, turning around to look in direction towards the girl who was now concentrated in a conversation with some guy who insisted on talking to her. She only looked at the man in a way that seemed to say: 'You're totally hooked on me, I know it.'

"Oh, they don't really work here," The bartender responded as he served him. Menma made an unpleasant face upon hearing that. "However, [he's] very well known in this place. Tends to come here frequently."

"[He?]*"

"Yes, [he. He's actually a guy]."

The liquor seemed to dangerously clog in his throat upon hearing that, making him choke and begin coughing exaggeratedly. The young bartender, worried, asked him if he were alright and patted his back trying to comfort him.

Anhedonia || Ckonny_Nickole » vonlaneWhere stories live. Discover now