Can't Be Touched

Bad boy X Good girl

Bradley Soileau in multimedia!

*Bradley's POV*
~1 week later~

Wednesday. These were the days I hated most. They reminded me of Kayla. Wednesdays are peculiar and strange, just like she is.

I roll over in the bed she and I used to share. The pink alarm she used to set every night was perched on the night stand. She bought it so I'd stop sleeping past noon.

I groaned and looked around at the mess we used to call home. There used to be so much meaning behind this place, now it was just an empty shell.

The pale creme pink walls had holes punched through them. The curtains that used to be opened every morning were now collecting dust. I had destroyed this place with my ignorance and foolishness.

I sighed and got up, walking into the kitchen. I checked my phone while my coffee brewed. I wanted to text her back. Hell, I wanted to call her, but that last no she had responded with told me I shouldn't.

She hates me. I did something that could never be undone and what did I lose? My sweetheart. The rosey pink cheeked doll that I had met, and fell in love with, at the age of seventeen.

I tossed my phone to the side, aggravated with myself. I'd gone out every night for the first five weeks she'd left me. I should know since she left me exactly five weeks ago.

I'm just an asshole and she's out of my league. I made a fool out of myself, running after her in all my glory. The neighbors were appalled and so was Kayla. It didn't matter to me though. I didn't care that the neighbors saw me like that. I cared that Kayla saw me like that.

The timer went off on that stupid hello kitty coffee machine I got for Kayla when we first moved in. I grabbed the mug and smiled at the engraved signature inside of the rim.

Soileau is a mug steeling wanker

Yeah, I know I'm obsessed. Thing is, you'd be as well if you lost the number one thing that gave meaning to such a bleak life. She gave my world color when I saw everything in black and white.

I sipped my coffee and grabbed the paper off of the front porch. I didn't mind the fact I was wearing boxer briefs. Everyone has seen my wedding tackle, what the hell are hot pink underwear gonna prove?

I sat down on the love seat that graced our screened in porch. I guess it's just my screened in porch now. I lit up a cigarette and smoked it down. It's funny, as much as I begged Kayla to allow me to smoke in the house, I couldn't bring myself to do it even when she wasn't here.

I sat outside for about an hour before I decided to go shrug on some jeans. I had finished off my coffee and placed a hat over my faded out hair. I grabbed my board and decided to go to the old studio.

~at the studio~

In a place like New York, you're happy to get the smallest of studios. I purchased this old run down space for Kayla about a year ago. She was thrilled and fixed it up to her liking.

This was her studio, her office and her sanctuary. I knew that if she wasn't home, she was probably here.

When she left, I spent most days here. Slowly her sanctuary became my sanctuary. I skate across the concrete floors and crank the stereo up to 50, canceling out the noises of the city.

I sighed and sat in her office chair, propping my legs up on the table and lighting up another cigarette. I looked through her pictures for the magazine, her articles on new fashion labels and I rummaged through her cd's.

Even though she was gone, I paid rent on this place, hoping she'd come back. She left her camera here. I hadn't touched it, so it sat on the desk collecting dust, waiting for Kayla's arrival.

The key to this studio is attached to her car keys. The place is locked down like fort Knox so I know, if anything has been moved or that camera has been touched, Kayla came back.

I finished off my cigarette and snubbed it in the ashtray that sat on the desk. I brought that ashtray about a week ago so I would get ash on the floors.

I stood and just walked around, inspecting all the things she'd been doing here. I walked up to two five foot tables that were pressed together in an L shape.

My sewing machine and materials sat on this table. Sometimes while Kayla worked, I would sew. Whether it be clothes for my fashion label or just clothes for Kayla, I didn't care.

Many memories had been made here. My photo had been taken here many a times, only for a few of them to end up on Kayla's fashion blog. That reminded me.

I went and sat behind her computer, typing in the password and pulling up the link for her blog. I'd keep up with Kayla by looking at her blog. Creepy? I know. I miss hearing her talk.

The pictures I found on her blog were recent, which set my mind at ease. She was okay. Although she travels the world on tour, she's never actually lived alone. I moved in with Kayla when we were nineteen.

I clicked on some pictures and was stunned to see what I did. She was with a guy, about my height but way bigger in muscular definition. He wore black from head to toe, drew on eyebrows and had kalya hoisted up on his back.

Pizza date with this fashionable slut!

I read the caption over and over again. Had she already moved on? We'd been dating for almost seven years and she moves on that fast? Did our love mean that little to her, or was I just reading this wrong?

I was broken from my thoughts when my phone vibrated across the concrete floors. I picked it up to see a text from a number I didn't know. I opened the text only to be confused.

Unknown: don't contact her again.

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Chapter four officially done! Hope you babes are enjoying it so far! Who do you think Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome is in the photograph? ;)
Remember to vote and comment!
Stay creepy
~Vee