The Playboy's Karma

LOUIS | Definitely not heartless

I'm not a heartless boy.

I just have specific hobbies, and that may be observing teary-eyed, reddish hue covered feminine faces that plead a desperate cry.

There's something about these innocent young
girls looking for a sweet romance-novel type of love, that gets me feeling so satisfied when I accomplish the task. The task: dumping them like a bag full of tiny pieces of a shattered plate, into the large green bin that stands outside my house. Their broken hearts representing the shattered plates, and the bin representing my negligence, obviously.

The girl I just ruthlessly dumped, standing about 30 feet ahead of me right now, is the perfect example. Oblivious of my presence, she is crying into Kimberly's delicate shoulder and Kimberly is patting her on the back comfortingly. Her pitiful wails drown my ears, but my heart remains stone cold as I observe this scene.

I've even kept a count of the number of them: twenty-one. Twenty-two by tomorrow, hopefully. If I'm lucky, twenty-three. I'm going to a highly anticipated house party at Liam's tommorow, and if things go right, I might just have another wholly smitten girl clinging onto me by the end of the night.

Oh, I can only imagine the enamoured look on her face as she thinks, he might be the one. And how wrong she would be.

Just to reiterate, I'm not heartless. No, not at all.

I don't deceive these young women, and I don't seduce them into bed with me. In fact, you might even say I am a gentleman. When I'm out with them, I offer to pay for their meals, open all doors for them, spoil them, and I make them feel like the princesses their dads never made them feel like.

Too bad, I guess their inability to shower love on their own daughters would inevitably lead to her greatest heartbreak.

These girls are weak, because they've barely ever been treated right. The moment a person treats them right, showering them with the affection they so desperately crave, they start to become infatuated with that individual, obsessed even. I knew this, and that's why I turned it into my specialty.

                                         ☆彡

As I pulled on a pair of Dickie's jeans and a vintage Carhartt jacket, I make my way to the front door and out the house. Kimberly and Felix were already waiting for me in Kim's brand new Bentley convertible.

"Hurry your ass up, we're gonna be late!" screams Kim from the driver's seat. She's all dolled up, her make-up done perfectly, her body wrapped tightly in a black party dress, her neck adorned with a Van Cleef & Arpels 18K gold necklace, and perched on top of her head, a pair of Gucci sunglasses.

I gave her the Van Cleef for her 20th birthday gift. Kim, Felix and myself being best friends since middle school, the two of them are all I need. As long as I have them, nothing can go wrong.

They're aware of my playboy-ish tendencies, and while they don't support it, they don't condemn it either.

When we pulled up at the mansion, I was wide-eyed, checking out an elegant waterfall, a fleet of six Ferrari cars, and a lovely white mansion.

Kim and Felix, born with polished silver spoons in their mouths, did not bother about the grand scene. I did. That's because I was a 16 year old peasant boy right before getting adopted by millionaire businesspeople parents. Now, three years later, I still get in awe at such things. I'm really not used to being a son of wealthy parents. It's also the reason why, deep down I'm pretty humble and have stayed true to my roots, my beginnings.

"Oh, Kim, Felix, Louis!" suddenly stumbled out a half-drunken Liam, his hands wrapped loosely around two attractive blondes. He embraced us with open arms, and said, "Come in, come in! The party started a while ago."

The sound of the booming music and strong reeking alcohol stimulated my senses, and I immediately took in the lively scene before me. Women dancing seductively, men surrounding them and doing the same, and a smaller group of obviously avid party-goers crowding around the ping pong table and bar.

I told my friends I would be heading to the bar first, and instinctively strutted over to Liam's personal bartender. "Fireball whiske-" I muttered, my trail of voice fading when I see something just so stunning.

Oh so stunning. She was the embodiment of a heaven-sent angel, her face perfectly pretty, like a dove, adorned with seductive positive canthal tilt siren eyes, and curtained by dark hair that slightly curled cutely at the ends. Her lips, plump and kissable, were pursed into an adorable smile. She was without a doubt my exact type, the epitome of my dream girl.

She also reminded me of a Victoria's Secret supermodel, what was her name again? Adriana?

I'm definitely not usually the type to simp and gawk at beautiful women. I am surrounded by them, they are a commodity. But her... she gave off a different, alluring aura that drew me in inadvertently.

And I just can't seem to pull my eyes off her.

Out of the blue, a buff fratboy appeared in my sight, blocking my view of the gorgeous woman. I grunted, annoyed, and shoved him out of the way.

When he, intoxicated, stumbled and fell onto the ground, I averted my gaze upwards again and realised that the ethereal woman had disappeared completely. With a disappointed expression, I just receive the glass of Fireball from the bartender and start sipping on it. What a waste. Don't know if I'll ever see her again.

The party continued on with a bunch of dudes getting drunk and embarrassing themselves, and girls becoming lethargic and their best friends urging them to sober up and leave. I lost my will to pick up some desperate women to add to my collection of heartbreak victims and just left for home.

                                          ☆彡

It has been a week since Liam's rave, and I had almost entirely forgotten about my near-encounter with my first ever crush, or whatever you call it.

My vibrating phone caught my attention and I quickly picked up the phone. Kim's highly irritated voice pierced through my phone as she said, "I'm going to kill her. What a cunt! Absolutely no self respect, no shame, and no courtesy towards me. I swear Louis, I'll-"

"What are you on about?" I asked. "Obvi the girl my ex's sleeping with, literally keep up, Louis." She rolled her eyes irritably.

Kimberly is usually supportive of other girls, no matter who they are. She is kind and never fails to be the helping hand for anyone that's struggling. It's one of the things I admire about her. Well... except when it comes to matters regarding her ex. She's extremely touchy about him, overly possessive, I'd say.

In my opinion, she's blindly in love with him, and should get a move on. There's better guys out there (Like me. Not that I'd like to date Kimberly though, of course not. She's not my type.) She just gets incredibly attached to someone the moment she falls in love, and that in itself is a horrible thing; it might lead to her ruin one day.

"Louis, UGH you can't even imagine my rage right now, I just want to give her the worst karma she's ever experienced. I'd give her death, if only I could."

"Woah Kim, slow down. I'm sure there are better ways to think about this. How about you try some deep breaths first?" I genuinely attempted to defuse the situation, only to my dismay. "Fuck you, Louis." She heaved into the phone. Then silence for a moment.

"Wait. Louis... You're my best friend, you'd do anything for me, right?" She propped up on her bed and prompted.

Without waiting for a response, she continued, excitement and anticipation suddenly engulfing her voice. "I need you to break a girl's heart for me."