Make me yours

Chapter 1

Somewhere in the future

I wish this story was different. I wish it was more civilized. I wish it would show me in a better light, if not happier, at least more active, less hesitant, less distracted by banalities. I wish it had more shape. If only it was a happy love story. But love hurts and it hurts bad. And even when everything seems perfect life breaks it. As I said, life hates me. I wish this story was about sunsets and good friendships, I wish it was about me living my best life. I wish.

Perhaps it is about these things, in a way; but in the meantime, there are so many other things to get in the way, so many whispers, so much speculation about others, so many rumors that cannot be confirmed, so many words to say, so much stealth and secrets. So many fucking secrets. That makes all of this so fucking hard.

I am sorry that there is so much pain in this story. I am sorry that it is in fragments like a body caught in a crossfire or forcibly dismantled. But I can't do anything to change that. After all, this is my story, my life. And she hates me.

I tried to add some good things too. Flowers, for example, because where and would we be without them? He loved flowers he said that they reminded him of peace and happiness and hope. I always loved how sensitive he could be and how he put his heart into everything he would do.

But there I continue with this mutilated and lame story, this sad, hungry, and sordid story, because, after all, it is all I have. This bloody and uncommon life is all I have.

****

Present time

Here I am on a fucking plane to London, my big dream. My brother has already been there for a year in a schoolship, but now, since he is finally 18 he can legally stay there alone and be my legal guardian. That is everything a teenager could want: a new start and liberty. And I am getting it.

My parents are still paying for everything, of course, it is not like my brother is more than a spoiled kid with no responsibility. However, money was never a problem for my family. We are one of the richest in Italy, where I am from. My dad has a wine company and my mom is a model but the money is most of all inheritance money from my grandmother, my mother's mother.

Nobody really knows what my grandmother did for living. It wasn't a secret I guess she was a businesswoman but we don't know what kind of business it is, I guess nobody really cared and she just had too many companies to explain it all to an annoying 16-year-old grandaughter- me. Instead, she just looked at my hazel eyes and told me the same thing since I am old enough to ask "I am a boss ass bitch, honey. That is what I do for living.".

I guess that's all I have left from her- an attitude. She was the most confident and powerful woman I ever knew. Unfortunately, she died just a month ago in a car accident. The driver was drunk and neither of them survived. That is how I lost my 75-year-old inspiration.

However, I am lying, I don't only have her attitude she left me a letter too. It is locked on her bank account for me to read when I am eighteen and as much as I wanted to read it right away my mom won't let me. I will have to wait two bloody long years.

The flight attendant said something, but my music was too loud for me to listen to; however, by the movement of the plane, I knew we were going to land. After that, it doesn't take long before I am walking at the airport full of people.

It is busy and noisy but I quickly found Joshua, he is the type of boy that girls look at: tall, rich, brunette, confident, not looking for anything more than a one-night stand, and good-looking, very good-looking.

He is not alone tho, next to him there is a tall boy with curly brown hair and brown eyes that make him seem so... pure. He is gorgeous truly, him alone would make me believe in God and arrive at the conclusion that indeed It has its favorites.