i hate you // lawlorff

one

(Kian's POV)

I sat at the bar, doing the same thing I had done for the past month, but now it was different. Instead of turning down the girls that hit on me, I was about to do the opposite. After my breakup, things really spiraled out of control for me. I got in more fights, sometimes even got thrown out of places just like this. 

I looked around me, searching for a casual hookup, some girl with a really low self esteem and a really high blood alcohol content. I saw a few blondes eyeing me, sipping martinis and giggling, but that was too easy. This was more like a game, now. See how many I could turn down before I could hit the jackpot. Like deal or no deal, I guess. You get countless good offers but if you stick it out, you end up a champion with a millionaire's ex wife hooked around your arm. 

That's what my goal was for the night. To find someone so rare and beautiful I may even regret running out of her apartment the next morning, leaving only a post it note to say I had fun, even if I didn't. 

Because who cares about love anyway, right? Love is so fucking stupid, it cheats us all. My girlfriend of three years, my fiancee, cheating on me with my best friend. And I didn't even see it coming. 

So here I am, being the stereotype. The epitome of a douchebag guy who starts meaningless relationships just for the sex appeal. But honestly, I'm so broken I don't care. 

A brunette sits next to me and doesn't even give half a glance in my direction. Playing hard to get, huh?

I cleared my throat. "Uh, bartender. Can I order this beautiful young lady a pomegranate berry vodka splash?" 

She looked at me with disgust. 

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen." 

I scoffed. "What, you don't like fruity vodkas?" 

She laughed. "No, I don't like you." 

I cocked my head. "Feisty, huh?" 

She rolled her eyes. "Can you just leave me alone?" 

I placed a hand on her arm. She jerked it away. "Fuck off, freak!" 

"Hey, is there a problem here?" the bartender asked, grabbing my shoulder. I flinched. 

"No! Nothing's wrong!" I persisted. 

He shook his head and made a clicking noise toward a security guard. "This is your third strike, Lawley. You walk." 

I sighed deeply as the man who could easily be a sumo wrestler grabbed my incomparably smaller arms and hoisted me up. 

I laughed it off like I wasn't severely upset, as the blondes who earlier seemed interested were not giggling about how cute they thought I was, but now about how pathetic they thought I was. 

Was this what I had become? A loser who hits on girls in bars with no remorse, getting kicked out and often falls asleep on the subway? Should I just give up now?

After the freight train drops me on the sidewalk, I brushed off and walked on to the next bar. A block up, I saw a group of guys walking into a club. Usually, if girls see guys walk into a bar, they tend to also walk in if they find them attractive. Using this technique, I attempted to stroll in, having some random hot girl follow me. 

Great idea, right?

I finally got in, and to my surprise, there were only other men in there. 

WAIT. 

I sat down at the bar cautiously and immediately, a tan neatly combed blonde sat beside me with a frighteningly white smile. 

"Heyy," he introduced.