Brutal | H.S

Chapter 2.

"Sweeter than a cherry."

Cherries. With a pit of 0.17 grams of lethal cyanide per seed they could be classified as a poisonous fruit. Only if you crush at least two finely and some how consume it, so I wouldn't be too worried about swallowing a few cherries whole. Although if you do swallow cherries whole, it's definitely natural selection. Anyways, if you happen to get in contact with a group called poison cherry— god forbid, then I would be a little worried. 

Flash backs of the night Harry fucked me senseless then left while I was sleeping at his friends house over two years ago came and went repeatedly. Some good, some made me want to find him to throw a brick at his head. I was an naïve twenty-one year old who saw her chance and took it. I mean, who wouldn't take up the opportunity to fuck a twenty-four year old celebrity?

But maybe I do owe him a thanks. Him leaving me naked without knowing my way home taught me an valuable lesson; not to trust men, ever. He tried apologizing for weeks after, claiming he knew what he did was wrong but his cheater friend needed help with something.

Well, your friend joshy ended up in a ditch with a case of cyanide poisoning.

Oops?

On the brighter side, I bought an house with El and Tyler, leaving our past demons behind us. It was hard at first, going from living alone to having two of your bestfriends with you every second of the day. Tyler always complaining about what El wanted to cook since she was the only one who actually enjoyed cooking, but they were the best fucking family I could ask for.

Even on my worst days I had them and that was all I needed. Not parties every single night, not the finest of things money could buy, not snoopy celebrities — although there was always one of us constantly hooking up with random celebrities at parties we got invited to. Just them. Connections to the biggest names in Hollywood helped with a lot of our needs, along with the myth, the legend, Valerie Song knowing just enough about Poison Cherry.

Look, I wasn't the type of person who got off to killing random people. No. I only killed men, and the world would be a lot better with less of those pigs. And before you all get your panties in a twist I only kill the bad ones, the one who deserves nothing less than hell in their lives. A bunch of sick fuckers are what they are, and they deserve to have a slow painful death like the amount of hurt they cause on others. Killing women was rare, but I did what was needed.

Although, I do find great joy in watching them beg for their suffering to end like their victims did.

Enough about that, back to Val. El was her manager who did about everything for her. From booking roles to eating her out in the middle of her dressing room. I'm pretty sure they were in love with each other long before any of us knew about the two, resulting in her knowing partly about us.

Exciting, I know. A friend group of a bunch of whores!

Valerie was currently standing in my kitchen with nothing but El's shirt and a pair of underwear with the writing 'mommies girl' written across the back, that I'm sure one of us gifted as a joke.

"There's nothing in this fridge." She complained, looking back at me. "Maybe you should go back to your place then." I mumble getting up from my place at the island. I didn't have a problem with her staying here, loved her to death but they fucked like bunnies. I can't have one silent night no matter how many times I bang on the walls and plead for them to stop. Couldn't say I wasn't jealous though. I couldn't find a man who didn't repulse me or a woman who wasn't a pillow princess.

I didn't mind being on top, I preferred it over being a bottom but I also didn't hate having someone dominating me in the bedroom. Which was tough for a girl who didn't like being told what to do or wouldn't get on her knees for a man.