My heart holds an unhealthy obsession with bad boys; my brain holds the power of falling in love with them. They have the adjective 'bad' in 'bad boys' for a reason, you know. But maybe thats what makes my heart beat faster and my brain think harder - the thrill of 'bad'.
I smiled lazily down at my entry in my journal. My messy hand writing always made peace in my head, along with writing.
I sip my coffee to substitute my lack of sleep. It's the only cure to my mind, which seems to have a bad case of wanderlust in thoughts.
I close my journal before picking up my brew and leaving the café. I'm met with the crowded, busy streets of New York - the city I love getting lost in. I took a deep breath through my nose, the air seemed to be like a drug, causing my brain to release dopamine at the pleasure and satisfaction.
I tug my coat tighter around me as I walked back to my apartment, which wasn't far from the café. The New Year had come and gone, but the bitter winter still lingers in the city's environment.
My apartment is cold as well. The heater was broken, and after numerous times of calling to get someone to fix it, it was scheduled to get fixed soon.
I slightly pouted. Which day was the man supposed to come to fix the heater?
I'm forgetful, as a writer should be.
I slip off my heels before walking over to my answering machine. One message was left on the receiver. I push a blinking red button to hear the message.
'Hello Brinley. You're probably out wandering right now, but I just wanted to call and make sure you'll be attending my party tonight...? You were drunk off your ass when I told you about it, so you probably don't remember, so I'll tell you again...'
I chuckled as I remember - well, barely - the night that Danica and I spent together.
She was an amazing artist, and she was throwing a party in honor of her new art gallery.
I look at the clock above the stove. I have an hour to spare before I had to get ready for the party. Surely, writing could make time go by faster.
-
Slipping on my heels, I leave my apartment in no rush. As always, I was late.
I caught a taxi luckily, and got there only ten minutes after the party was supposed to start. Let's just say this: past times have been much worse.
I walk inside and was happily greeted by the warm atmosphere. My cheeks sting from the contrast in temperatures, but I ignore the pins and needles to look for Danica. I quickly find her holding a glass of champagne, talking to people about her love for art most likely.
I greet her with a hug, as she thanks me for coming.
She thanks the other people for attending her show, before turning to me and walking away.
"I was beginning to think you weren't coming." Her red lips move as she spoke to me. I looked at her glass of gold, a red lip stained on the rim. "There's a few people I'd like you to meet."
She leads me up to another floor of her art work, looking for people she wants to introduce to me. She spottes them with a small gasp, and pulled me over to the group.
"Are you all enjoying the show?" Danica asks, interrupting their current conversation.
They all turn to her willingly, complementing her work.
"I want you all to meet my best friend, Brinley." She turns to me, allowing the small gathering of people to look at me.
"Brin, meet Ember, Massey, and Harry." Danica points to the group of one female and two males.
Ember is a natural blonde, unlike me, whose hair was naturally light brown, but now platinum. Her brown eyes represent her name, as they were fierce yet softened the rest of her hard features, few beauty marks rested on her skin.
Massey's tall - he towers over Ember like the edifices of New York towered over the people. His hair is tamed yet messy, and his light skin blends in with the texture of his blue eyes. A half sleeve is inked onto his left arm, while his right was clinging onto Ember's waist.
I look over the couple for only a few seconds before turning to Harry - whose already peering at me. A metal lip ring was taken in between his teeth as his intense forrest eyes took in my body. Tattoos litter his skin. I want to know what every single one meant. Or did they even mean something? His white shirt clings to his body like it's screaming at me to tear it off. Harry is the bad boy my heart longed for and what my brain ran on about.
"Nice to meet you all." I tore my eyes from Harry, knowing that staring is rude, but he could stare at me for hours and I wouldn't care.
"I met with them while I was in London." Danica tells me, after sipping from her glass.
"I'm not even British." Massey says, proving his words as his American accent came naturally. We all laugh at his statement before Danica suggested that we all go up to the v.i.p. room a floor up.
The view isn't much from the windows, to my disappointment. But I'm greeted with a glass of red wine, which is enough to please me.
"Is that llello I see?" Massey walks over to the table, picking up a bag of white dust.
Danica smiles proudly. "Yeah, finest in the city." She pulls out her wallet, taking a Ben Franklin out and rolling it. "You take the honors and have the first hit, yeah?"
Massey lays a hand over his heart in a comical matter, then opens the bag of cocaine and makes a straight line with his own credit card.
I watched as he inhaled the line, looking as if he was in pain afterwards.
"T-That was some good shit." Tears form in his eyes from the drug's power.
"Let me have a try." Harry finally speaks, his British accent making him almost seem posh. He copied Massey's actions as we all watched him.
He mirrored Massey's reaction, his green eyes covered in a layer of gloss. They two boys looked at each other and laughed.
Danica nudged me left side. "Alright, Brin is next."
I opened my mouth in protest. "Oh, I can't. I've never done this before."
Harry, who I sat down next to while he was taking part in the drug, nudged my right arm.
"There's a first time for everything, Brinley." He wetted his lips with his tongue, his eyes dancing over my face.
I love observing how he looked at me. His green eyes were so fascinating, and I was almost grateful at the fact that his mind decided to use those emeralds to look over my face.
I shrugged, taking the money out of Harry hand, and making sure our skin made contact. I shivered as I pulled away, but I couldn't comprehend if it was from the rush of adrenaline, or him.
"Just sniff quickly, babe." He laid his hand on my leg and gave me a pet name like no one else was listening.
I sniffed up the powder and dropped the bill after I finished my line. Pain surged through my sinuses and tears flooded my eyes.
I opened my eyes, confused and scared from what I just did. Everyone seemed to be cheering at the fact that my cocaine-virginity had been taken.
I looked at Harry, tears pouring over, but his rough thumb wiped them away.
This is what bad boys do to me.
