L.o.v.e...not the fairytale kind of love...

Chapter Two

Dylan 

Saturday, the one and only day of the week that I can truly rest. No training, no meetings and no phone calls from my parents as they sail somewhere over the ocean like they do every weekend. Heck, even my nutritionist is giving me a free card so I can stuff my face with whatever I please. Yes, Saturdays are my little twenty-four-hour vacation before everything goes back to normal.

My folks, yeah, let me tell you about them. Felicia and Christopher Heart. They're not my real parents. No, not by blood anyway. I was adopted right after I was born to my sixteen-year-old mother as apparently she wasn't 'mature' enough to care for me. I call bullshit! Wasn't mature enough, ha! She's mature enough to screw around, but not mature enough to take care of her son. The fuck to that, I say. So, I've been with my folks for the past thirty-two years. It's been a great life don't get me wrong, they love me like their own son, and I love them back. They are all I have ... all I know as my family. They're not the protective parents that keep you inside the bubble just to keep you safe. No, they're actually the total opposite of that. They gave me the right to choose every time I am faced with a choice. Even when I quit college to fight, they were okay with it. They didn't threaten me with my trust fund just because I chose not to study some business major, so I could move into my father's footsteps to prepare me to take over his real estate company one day. No, they supported me every step of the way even though they didn't fully agree with many of my decisions.

I packed up my stuff and headed to the beach. It's right at my backyard. Yes, I live in Malibu in an ocean front house. Why wouldn't I? I have plenty of money to afford it and what's better than living next to the ocean, especially with your own beach? Yep, I thought so – nothing!

I plan on doing nothing today, absolutely nothing while getting a tan going on. I get a text from Rey.

Rey: Hey bro, u still up for tonight?

Oh, shit! I forgot about our plans that I stupidly agreed to last night after the fight. He's been trying to get me out for about a couple of months now, but I've managed to successfully reject him until now. Last night, however, Rey was up in my face whining like a little bitch about my lack of social life. So, I agreed. I hate crowds and I hate drunken chicks ogling me like they want to eat me for breakfast. If I want to fuck, I'll bring them to my condo downtown and send them home right after. I never, ever, take a girl back to my place ... ever. My bed is my temple, end of story. I have no need for that 'curl up to me' shit and I definitely have no need for relationships, which includes all that lovey-dovey crap.

My lack of emotions in that department is nothing new. I've never had close friends or girlfriends. I've never even had a dog for Christ's sake! I don't attach myself to anything or anybody because the fear of losing them or being pushed away is always in my head, flashing like a gigantic fucking neon sign, 'Do not get attached'. Don't ask me where that shit comes from, as I have no idea. I've always been that way, and I'm sure I always will. I know if I ever decide to go and see a shrink then they would probably find a logical explanation for my behavior, but as of right now, I'm good with the way it is.

I text Rey back.

Me: Yep, I guess I said that last night.

Rey: We're heading to Pandora. Jim said the chicks are hot over there, and they have a great DJ tonight. We will have tons of fun.

Fucking great! Like I need chicks all over me and like I don't have pussy demanding my attention at every fight. I thought we were getting a beer or two at some quiet pub, but I guess with those fuckers that's not an ideal way to spend a Saturday night.