Rich Boys Don't Have Hearts

23 || VIGINTI TRES

I am gonna be so serious that this gonna be the last note:

A year ago, on July 22, I had an idea for this book filled with all the things that plagued my mind, a tremor of what it would be to have tasted power, a girl that just wanted to be free from something enormous that could swallow her up if she doesn't keep her feet moving, and its been exactly one year since then.

As someone who's too easily bored, too excited with the appeal of starting a new book,

(too excited in fact, that I currently have 213 drafts and stories wanting to be finished)

this is such, such an achievement for me that I've made it this far and reached 100k+ words since. I'm probably gonna dwell on this the entire day. :,,,,,)

I have so much to say but I'll save it at the very, very end. But for now, I have for you this chapter I pulled out of nowhere:

♕

VIGINTI TRES

♕

As I washed my hair free of the sweat and the little confetti that is grass, I let the words ring on the bathroom walls. Congrats.

Why had it been the most motivating thing I'd ever heard?

It almost made me want to survive another game again.

I'm well aware it was the barest minimum of words.

Do I sound desperate? Probably.

The little nibs of dirt of grass washes away with the water and follows the line of the tiles, it swirls in the vortex of the drain. Congrats.

I was getting nearer.

I zip my duffle bag after stuffing all of my dirty clothes I wore at the game. And then, I bent to the faucet and slammed my cleats on the cold hard tiles to force off the dirt smashed in between those little nubs.

I always feel so clean after a shower that everything else is dirty. Like how I'm now barely touching my smelly jersey even though I was as comfortable as a snug little bear in it mere minutes ago.

Sometimes I wondered if it is that same exact experience that it's a reason that some people feel like a god when touching diamonds. You just can't touch coal after touching diamonds.

The prettiness is too much, a shallow addiction. And the ugliness, the regularness of something as somber as coal is too offensive for a god like you.

I lift the duffle bag and strapped it on my side, bearing all the weight in one shoulder.

I grab my phone, cursed the light switch for being so far, flipped the switch off, and quickly took off to the door in pitch black while imagining that something gonna pull my feet.

As soon as my hand reaches the door knob, I twist it open, propelling my body out of the shower room and slamming it close behind me.

As if nothing happened, I resumed walking peacefully.

People had started to carefully drop down from the benches and hurry along to their cars.

Some were taking pictures with my teammates.

There was an allure that comes with being a soccer player of Venisde, especially if you're a boy with something-figures embedded to your name.

I scoff with a smirk on my face, silently cheering my teammates on before I spot the four boys and Malena sitting near the teams benches where I had left them.