Ambrose has been in love with his best friend, Lana Hart, for years.
But she tied the knot with the love of her life three years ago, leaving Ambrose broken-hearted and disillusioned about love.
Enter Davina, the most difficult girl Ambrose has ever...
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The sun shined like a fireball in the violently blue sky. It was eye-catching, yet your eyes stung when making contact with the glowing sun. Clouds scattered throughout the sky like a hopscotch game, bouncing every other side.
The competition grew slimmer as we reached one-digit contestants and migrated to a new country, Barcelona. However, with a pending knowledge needed from Davina's father, I suggested we take a detour before joining the group. To get used to the jetlag, they gave us an extra week to re-cooperate.
But Davina and I had other plans. Her story was quite shocking, but being a child of abuse, nothing felt impossible. Sour taste clawed at my stomach, knowing Colton left her to deal with this earth-shattering night. If he knew the truth, how could he feel great about himself knowing he destroyed her?
It's never acceptable to validate people's personalities by their past mistakes. They don't define them if they are willing to change afterward. If Davina really caused the accident, injuring her sister, then she didn't need someone to judge her. She had herself for that. It would be my responsibility as a friend to be there, to encourage her through this.
Davina drowned her sorrows in alcohol, but these days it's like she found a new outlet.
Meadow's personal investigator helped us locate Davina's father, who's currently residing in San Francisco. Her investigator informed us of Davina's father's usual schedule; he would go to work from six to four in the evening, spend two hours in the park, then enjoyed a private meal in the comfort of his own home.
It might've been rude for Davina to barge in on him on a random sunny afternoon, but we had to get this shit straightened out.
"Are you done, yet? It hurts my neck to stay in this position for too long," Davina complained, her red-painted lips curling down to a frown.
Since Davina didn't want to seem like a psycho daughter, our coverup was having a picnic date, which would also shut down the rumor of a breakup. Davina sat elegantly on the plain white blanket, her legs spilling from the slit on her Polkadot Chiffon dress. It's like she knew her tan legs were my weakness and easily caused a chain reaction down to my trousers.
It was painful enough to keep my eyes from staring at the boobs being crushed to death from the tight top. She had me second-guessing if I was still an ass guy, that's how intoxicating her breast was.
"I'm just about done with it, honey. Stay still and I'll spoil you with churros," I said, softly draping my pen over the paper.
During my cooking withdrawal, I dabbled in different kinds of media to get over my little hunch. Sketching was one of them. I wasn't the next Van Gogh, but from the comments on my personal artist Instagram; I was fucking great.
"Better be churros, bubble tea, and a free spa session at the hotel," Davina replied, dropping her head a bit, but thankfully her sunhat was the only thing missing in the illustration.
