Brooklyn:
After being forced to spend one summer in Italy with her grandma, Brooklyn always found her way back to the cobblestone streets but not for the feeling of a summer never ending, but for Valentino, a boy who radiates trouble and sees throu...
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POV: Brooklyn "It is both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so very deeply." – d.j Summer #3
Escapism is not as aesthetic as I imagined.
It's not stumbling drunk in a club of strangers having fun.
It's not in a line of cocaine.
It's not even at the bottom of the drink I'm drinking.
Escapism is (was) laughing until my stomach burned.
painting until my fingers twitched.
Reading until my eyes ached
and running until my legs gave out
But I'm here anyway, sitting at the end of the bar, staring into oblivion, wondering how the hell I got here.
What would 15-year-old me think of me right now?
Why does that girl only come to see me when I'm like this? to haunt me?
I feel stripped of my masks, like everyone can see right through me.
Like if I started talking, my true feelings would arise, and people would run away from me, scared.
because I mess up things.
because I'm never enough.
because everything is my fault.
I take another shot.
"Heyyy, Selena, how are you holding up?" the girl I saw in the street asked.
"Fine, I like this place," I reply, not bothering to look at her. Selena is fun; she likes to smile and make jokes.
"But if the fifty-year-old man keeps looking at me, I'm going to sleep on the nearest highway," I force myself to smile.
The girl laughs, and I don't bother to ask for her name; I know she will not remember by tomorrow morning anyway.
"Well, you should tell him to back off because it looks like you're already taken," she nods her head towards a group of men in the VIP section.
"Wha-?" I stop when I see the guy she was referring to.
My eyes were immediately drawn to his puffy lips that were pulled into a smirk. The red moving lights would occasionally brush his face, showcasing his dark blue eyes and dark hair. His eyes lowered to mine, and he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, showing me that I had his attention.
I turned back to my girl, giving her the "did you see that expression?"
She nodded at me vigorously, eyes wide.
When I turned back around, he was coming towards me.
Shit, he was even better up close, and I stood there frozen like someone hit my pause button.
"Hey, my name is Jesse," she said, bringing her hand out for him to shake.
I give her a sideways glance and try to mentally prepare myself for this guy who raised every red flag known to mankind.
Thankfully, my favorite color is red.
"Dance with me, красив," the man said with a slightly heavy Russian accent.
Without thinking, I took this mysterious guy's hand and headed to the dance floor.
As if in response, "Your Guilty Pleasure" by Henry started playing, creating a low, sensual beat.
The mysterious guy placed his hands on my hips and pulled me until my back reached his front. I let my gaze linger on one his tattoos, a wolf crawling up his arm. I almost asked about it until the music turned on.
Feeling it, I closed my eyes and swayed my hips to the beat, letting this guy's hand wander.
I was alerted at first when his lips found my neck, but I started to be engulfed in this feeling of...
Euphoria
For the first time in forever, I was truly and utterly carefree.
I didn't care that I haven't figured myself out yet.
I didn't care that my life was a mess.
I didn't care about picking up the broken pieces of what used to be
I was just in a state of being.
The guy turned me around, and I started running my hands over his chest, liking the muscles underneath.
When lights flashed on his face, he'd slightly duck, confusing me a little, but I chose not to care.
Mr. Tattoos brought his face close to mine, and suddenly I froze when our lips were inches apart.
I couldn't kiss him, not now or ever, but when I tried to pull away, he brought a harsh grip on my neck and forced my lips onto his.
I instantly pushed him away, saying, "What the fuck?"
Looking down at me, he just gave me a devilish smile and walked away, leaving me on the dance floor staring at a retreating figure. ____________________________________ The plot is thickening....
