The Womanizer

Chapter 36: Tipsy

** play Tipsy by J-Kwon when you see (*) for a better read

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2005- 3 months later...

Bel Air- Los Angeles

Emerging from the sleek, midnight-black car like a shadow released from its confines, Lauren ran a hand through her newly trimmed shoulder-length hair exasperatedly, hesitating at the entrance of her condo building. The urban night enveloped her, alive with the distant hum of traffic and the occasional flicker of streetlights. She stood against her car for a moment, her presence magnetic, drawing the eyes of the night life that stumbled drunkenly through the streets, despite the shadows that clung to her.

Despite it being late, Lauren looked rejuvenated, happy even. Her face was a masterpiece of rugged allure, chiseled jawline that was framed perfectly by her messy hair. Her eyes, a striking contrast of deep, emerald green, framed by thick, dark lashes darted frantically from the glass door to the huge windows along the building. Her freshly dyed raven hair fell in tousled waves to her shoulders, the deep black hue catching the light just enough to hint at its rich, velvety texture. It's messy in the most deliberate way, each strand falling with an artful carelessness.

Clad entirely in black, her ensemble was a testament to her effortless charm. The black motorcycle jacket clung to her broad shoulders, the worn leather hinting at countless rides and adventures. Beneath it, a black Henley top fits snugly against her well-defined torso, the top buttons undone to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of her muscular chest. Her black jeans are fitted, accentuating her powerful thighs and lean, sinewy legs, while the black motorcycle boots add a final touch of rugged defiance, their scuffed surfaces telling tales of the open road.

As she moved, every step exuded a raw, captivating energy, the eyes of passersby lingering on her confident stride. The world seems to hold its breath around her, caught in the spell of her irresistible charm and undeniable presence. The concrete steps echoed softly under her leather motorcycle boots as she ascended to the familiar glass doors. Each stride brought her closer to the home she had abruptly abandoned—the sanctuary where echoes of her sudden departure three months ago, still lingered in the stillness of the walls.

The lobby was hushed, the concierge desk unmanned at this late hour. Lauren's gaze swept over the minimalist furnishings, their sleek lines a stark contrast to the turmoil churning within her. Memories of her days and nights with Ian tugged at her with each passing second—a flash of laughter from the parties she attended, the faint echo of unanswered phone calls and messages.

With a steadying breath, Lauren approached the elevator bank. The soft ping of the arriving lift seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet foyer. She hesitated briefly before pressing the button for her floor, the metal beneath her touch cool and impersonal.

As the elevator ascended, a sense of dread began to emerge over her like a cloak. The doors slid open silently, revealing a corridor bathed in the soft glow of overhead lights. Her footsteps echoed as she walked the familiar path to her condo door, each click of her boots on the polished tile disrupting the quiet of the rest of the building.

Key in hand, Lauren stood before the door, hesitating as memories of happier times flickered through her mind. She closed her eyes briefly, willing herself to face the consequences of her impulsive departure. She knew there was a chance Sydney would never forgive her for this. Hell, she wouldn't even forgive herself for half the things she did while she was away, causing mayhem, from Miami, all the way to Tokyo with Ian. She involuntarily shuddered at the grim memories that ran through her mind- images of her fucking people in club bathrooms in exchange for a hit of cocaine straight off of their breasts, the endless parties Ian took her to all over the world, all full of people willing to pay big bucks just to have their way with her. And of course, the drugs. Days and nights filled with shooting up with heroin, snorting cocaine and smoking weed. All these memories haunted Lauren as she stood before the door, her body unconsciously hunching and shaking as she thought about the fact that, despite the whirlwind of danger and anxiety she felt while away, she'd never feel that rush of adrenaline ever again. She was a 'daddy' now, as Sydney had called her in one phone call she'd missed, so she had to step up. Whether she liked it or not. And she didn't. Not one bit.