***FEATURED BY @adultfiction (27/08/2021)***
As he came closer, pressing me further into the door, my breathing quickened. But I wasn't going to let him take all the satisfaction from this torture, so I attempted to keep a straight face.
"You're bon...
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"These violent delights have violent ends, And in theirtriump die, likefire and powder, Which, as they kiss, consume." -Friar Lawrence, Romeo & Juliet
~♤ ▪︎ ♤ ▪︎ ♤~
For the rest of the evening, I had to sit through her subtle jabs, and also endure Aaliyah's sharp words towards her in retaliation. It was bad to the point where I wished I wouldn't have accepted her invitation to this party. All it had done, was give me a headache and make me interact with people I didn't want to.
Somehow, the event ended and I painfully made my way back home - the pain being the intense throbbing in my head which made it difficult for me to open my eyes. Feeling totally empty inside, I now understood what my parents meant when they said such gatherings give them headaches. I felt like even if I would have gotten hit by a moving truck, it wouldn't have hurt as much.
Gulping another glass of wine, and popping two sleeping pills along with it, I made way to my bed, hoping to get rid of this monstrous ache with so good night's sleep. Sleep had become such a luxury for me, but it had been that way all my life. It's just that the problems that kept me up at night changed from time to time.
A shrill ringing pierced through my deep slumber, making me internally curse the person who was calling me at such an ungodly hour. I blindly fumbled for the cursed device, unleashing my frustration on every person who thought phones were better than letters, which could be read and written at our fucking convenience. Squinting at the bright light, I read the words as John. What now?
"Yes?" I croaked, my voice gone hoarse from obvious lack of water.
"Are you asleep Scar? Still?" His voice flowed in melodiously.
"What do you mean by still?" I murmured and then looked at the time on my phone. The phone fell from my hand as I gasped, shooting straight up from the bed.
"Fuck, it's already eleven? Why the fuck have I been sleeping all this time?"
"Were you drunk last night?" He asked me, slowly.
I gulped. Telling him the truth won't be a good option, but lying to him was not even an option. He was going to have my head either way, so I just decided to be honest with him.
"Yeah, I did."
"You do know that the other producers will come to see the play's progress in less than a month, right?"
Again, I reiterated, "Yes."
"Scar, please. Don't make me pull the remaining few hairs off my head. Please." He begged me, which was both comical and uncomfortable. A man the age of my father shouldn't do this, but he was too kind and humble to take such things into account.
