My Trophy Boy
An episodic drama series exploring the unfathomable feelings and actions between connected polar opposites in life.
The idea of becoming a prized possession is through the lenses of 19 year old Holland Pierce, an entrepreneur who conta...
"Ouch!" I was showering and was cleaning all the cuts and bruises I had.
I wanted to cry again. I felt so weak and shit.
I'm also wanted by Zike, a hoodrat from my neighbourhood. In fact he's a good friend of CJ's. Why would he be looking for me though?
I stepped out the shower and quickly moisturised my skin.
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I wore a basic adidas tracksuit, with a matching bucket hat and pair of trainers.
Paris was staying at the hotel today. I know she was bored, but she can go school next week, behave and socialise.
.
I was tempted to message Quinton about yesterday, but I left it. Fucking asshole!
"Hey! You came!" Exasperated Steve. He opened up his arms for a hug and I gave him a brief side hug.
Uncomfortable and painful.
"Why wouldn't I have made it?" I shook my head in disbelief.
Seems like no one believes in me...
"You seem like someone who thinks he's too good for things like this." He shrugged, not realising how hurtful that comment was.
"Wow, like someone that lets others eat their shit?" I smiled with sarcasm.
"Sort of." He snickered. "Come, let's get a drink before the conference starts." He guided me to a set of lockers where we were able to put our belongings in. I put my coat in as did he.
I didn't expect us to be in such a corporate building for an event like this.
"So what's going on here then?" I asked.
"There will be talks on how to outsource, connect with online demand content and how to format pitches. Oh there will be some gadget review and an auction at the end." He showed me a bag full of goodies that I presume he's going to auction off.
I nodded and falsely smiled.
I got myself a hot chocolate and Steve got himself a glass of Prosecco...
"Ladies and gentleman we have a couple of guest speakers." Said the host.
We sat 3 rows from the front. I suddenly got a whiff of that rich, deep cologne. I swear I've smelt it before..? On Quinton..? I looked around, scoping my surroundings. Silly, because of course he's not here. The smell was like a trigger for me to melt on the spot. .
The conference was boring and throughout all of it I felt as if I was being watched. Probably my undiagnosed anxiety just being a bitch, since I was one of the few black people here meaning I stood out.
Auction time...
Steve was robot-like, paying absolute attention during the conference whilst I was bored and fidgety. If I tried to make conversation I was 'shushed'.
