2. Abandoned Doll (II) by Sarae

Chapter 4

Bill's P.O.V.

It made me feel uncomfortable just to look at the impeccably clean wood that covered the floor, where the candies, the popcorn and the pizza boxes were scattered, not to mention the colorful jelly bears that were stuck to it. That's why, either I focused on the movie, Hostel, or looked at Sparky while I talked to him, and he talked back to me, trying not to open his mouth every time he ate a good hot and steaming piece of pizza.

We were sitting on the floor, on the pillows in a Japanese style and a rug, which I'd rather not know where it came from. The thing is that it was expensive, for sure. All the furniture in the house, not to mention the house itself, was expensive. I doubted there was something cheap there.
The garden was huge; it had a fountain, gnomes, a gardener, and everything. For a moment I thought it was a country house, but no. The decoration was incredible, modern, warm, not too heavy; the furniture was flawless, Italian for sure. The wall was full of abstract paintings, the shelves were full of books; there was a plasma TV, a fireplace, small glass statues decorating the tables and shelves. The jackets hanging from the coat rack were Armani and Boss. There were pictures of Sparky's family in places like Spain, Italy... fuck, even New York! It was amazing. Compared to them, I did live in a country house.

"No, you're definitely kidding me. For you, a thriller movie means a psycho running after the main character and killing everyone around'? That's just another gore shit!" I told him, leaning my head onto the lower part of the white leather sofa behind me. I pulled my bare legs up a little. A white cotton bath robe hid the rest of my body. I was only wearing that... and a pair of Calvin Klein boxers that weren't mine.

I ran away from home and wore the same clothes for two entire days, without even taking a shower. Right when I got to Sparky's house, a shower was the first thing I asked him for, only that. Now I prided like a fucking king after taking a bath in the amazing hydromassage tub that melted me in pleasure. Meanwhile, my clothes were being washed in the cutting-edge washing machine. The next day, they would dry in the latest spin-dryer and they would be ironed and all.
I was starting to feel jealous of Sparky. Sure, my life was pretty good, and my house was in the suburbs and all that stuff, but... I wasn't a millionaire, not at all.

"That's what all the thriller movies are about, don't you think?" Sparky raised his eyebrow while he watched me scarf down a handful of popcorn. He was wearing pajamas, or that's what I thought. His shirt stuck to his body as if it was adhesive. His muscles were way more visible than Tom's and his body was sexy, more than Tom's; besides, he was as hot as Tom, maybe hotter...

But he wasn't Tom...

"The real thriller movies are Japanese. You know, with hair everywhere. There's no blood... but the plot is better and way scarier."

"Yeah. Japanese people are so ugly they scare me."

"Just a few. Some of them look good."

"Are you talking about Japanese girls or boys?"

I rolled my eyes. He laughed.

"Very funny."

"No, really... I enjoy gore better. I like to see the blood flow," he let out a funny ghostly voice.
"Well, I don't. Besides... there's too much sex," I made a face as I watched the movie. Hostel was disgusting. The main characters had already been to a few nightclubs before going to the hotel. It was too hideous to be a porn movie.

"Okay, you're right with that. But there are good movies. Have you ever watched Saw?"

I almost choked with my drink. "Hum!... That one is good! Yet, from the fourth movie on, it's too exaggerated."