Vicious people doing despicable things

16 On my knees

Nam

Fuck.

I shouldn't have come here.

If he wanted to see me, he would have found me himself.

But look at him - he's having the time of his life without me.

He turned our whole relationship into songs. Which would be romantic, if he didn't spit into my soul and stomp on my heart.

I should demand 30 percent of their revenue.

This heartless, stupid, gullible, hot, and talented asshole. Does he even feel guilty for what he's done to me?

Probably not. He's got Luc and his parents to worry about. Why would he care about me. Fuck him.

Fort is furious. That's fine. He'll come around. I don't worry about that. I don't worry about anything.

I catch my reflection in a mirror behind the row of liquor bottles. I want to wink at myself. I'm in my new black faux leather shorts and shredded cropped sweater. My lashes are long; my eyes are dark and enigmatic; my lips are red and inviting. I look like a whore. Daddy would've had a heart attack if he saw me looking like this.

P'Pick sets my second double Vodka in front of me, giving me his worried look. I just stare blankly at him.

"You'll get yourself in trouble," he says. I just shrug.

"That's exactly what I'm after," I reply lazily and down the drink in one go. P'Pick shakes his head and leaves me for other customers.

Ton sings how falling in love feels like a punch in the chest that leaves him breathless and weak on his knees.

Ugh.

Hate it.

It's like he used me just to write the songs.

I should demand 40 percent.

I need another drink.

I'm clearly not drunk enough. I want to pass out and choke on my own puke. I want to stop thinking. I want to be fucked to oblivion. I want to be horny and sexy. Not heartbroken and crashed. I'm tired of being miserable. I'm sick of guys dumping me because of my father. It is not fair. I hate it. From now on, I'll keep my heart to myself, safe and sound. Fuck everyone else.

Someone slides a glass of champagne next to my empty one. I look up. It's fucking James. I huff and roll my eyes.

"You look weary," he says. There's an annoying smirk on his perfect, symmetrical face.

I fold my arms over my chest. "What do you want?" I ask flatly.

"Don't be like this. I came in peace." I take a sip of the champagne and give him an unimpressed look. "I'm not going to say I told you so," he brushes a loose strand of hair out of my face. I'm too lazy to stop him. "You were too good for him, it couldn't last. You look like these past months have drained all life out of you." I say nothing. I stare at my broken-up reflection on the mirror mosaic partially blocked by bottles and glasses. I don't look that bad, do I? I'm sexy as hell. Go fuck yourself, James. "You've been pretending to be someone you're not for way too long, darling. Just admit monogamy isn't for you." James is a dick, but isn't it what I've just been thinking about? I gulp down his champagne. I'm thirsty. He can buy me more. "So," he moves closer to me and whispers in my ear, "Who broke whose heart in the end? Did you cheat? Was he lame in bed?" Ton is singing about jet planes and I feel sick. I just give James a look and push my empty champagne glass at him. "Okay," he pulls back, "The truth is, I like you. I really do." I stare at him blankly. I have no idea what to do with this piece of information. He waves P'Pick and points at my glass. P'Pick glances at me with a disappointed sigh but nods. "You know I can satisfy your needs," James says, voice smooth and soft like velvet. "I'm not a jealous type, and I can take care of you. A match made in heaven, don't you think?" I think I'm going to be sick. "You are uncharacteristically quiet," he says after a moment of silence. "Let me help you to make the decision." He puts his hand on my leg and slides it up to my crouch. Because he's a caveman with no class or manners, and because I let him. I don't know if I want Mark to witness it. I don't even know if I enjoy it. I'm just too numb to be disgusted.