Heartbreaker

Chapter 1

If my heart could speak or do anything at this moment, I would probably throw my desk, staple it to shreds and throw the remains out of the window. That's how I felt. Anger ran through me mercilessly. The vein around my neck jumped out of rage and my cheeks turned red. As I walked down the corridor in the photo studio, I headed toward the exit where Rosie was waiting for me in the car. Short summary of the content. All in all, six years of my life. Since graduation, I went to college, where (and here funny) I studied two fields. The first completely from the cap - lettering, or rather calligraphy. And the second - Journalism. However, when I was going to university, I didn't plan to work in the British version of Vogue after that. I wanted more serious job, where my task was not to watch horny photographers or models so that none of them had oral sex in the back room of the studio. Despite everything, I finished as that person. Rosalind Wilson was the only one supporting me in this more confusing world than Lord Voldemort's motivations for Harry Potter. Our paths merged rather unexpectedly. In the most hopeless time of my life. After school, I moved from Birmingham to London, where I rented a room in a brunette flat. As roommates, we didn't talk to each other very often. Our correspondence was based more on rent and the order in which one of us is taken rubbish out. Once, however, she came home tearful. I couldn't miss it myself, sitting on an old couch which was squealing at any movement and eating Chinese soup. I had two options:

1. Stay and try to solve the problem. Or rather, be a good roommate.

2. Go deeper into my kingdom, which is my room, and watch Bridget Jones. Which actually won't be watching, but rather admiring the beauty and divinity of Hugh Grant.

The idea itself wasn't bad. Looking at our relationship at that time, it wasn't that strong. However, something in the bottom of my heart said stay. So I stayed and I have to admit it paid off. I made a friend for the first time in my life. Not fake but true friend. As it turned out, Ro covered her boyfriend at cheating, so she broke up with him. The whole fell apart later, where he abandoned all his acquaintances through him. She had no one. I mean, technically she had me. That night I listened to everything she had to say and even shared my soup with her. Don't let it fool you, it was the first and last time I shared my food with her. However, coming back. She blew her heart out and ... me too. I didn't have anyone to open to since high school. It was a breakthrough in our relationship. The next day, we said good morning to each other at breakfast, and then next day, week, month,until we began to have a real conversation. In two months we became friends. And we still are. I opened the door to an old Mercedes, which will probably soon be in a junkyard and got in, slamming a pile of steel behind me. I pushed blond hair from my forehead letting out a growl. At the same time, my good friend, culturally eating a sandwich with ham and cheese, looked at me over the phone.

- How did it go? - She asked the question more casually, taking another bite of food. Her cheeks leaped out like balls of excess food in her mouth, but she didn't seem to care and went back to scrolling her phone as always.

- The photographer said that the girl was choosing him, and he refused until he couldn't do this anymore. At the end he added that women do not deserve to be treated with violence, so he voluntarily gave her"rape" him. Fucking jerk. - I murmured the last words, putting my light bag under my feet and pulling orange juice out of it. To think that I have to deal with this situations on a daily basis. I think my boss thinks I'm an underdeveloped kid who can't write or read. At the beginning of my work I was still trying. I wrote articles, ripped and gave her to read with the hope of one small newspaper debut. However, after the hundredth attempt, I came to the conclusion that all of this makes no sense and she simply doesn't read them. So I stopped and focused on my work. Controling horny people. The brunette sitting at the wheel murmured something incomprehensible through the sandwich, which stuffed her mouth. Taking a sip of the drink, I looked at her with frowns. Finally swallowing a big bite and taking my juice to drink, she turned to me.