Fuckboy ↬ Nick Robinson Fanfic

11

I literally felt stupid.
My mind raced in the opposite direction I wanted it to go, yet it seemed like there was nothing I could do about it. I was finding myself being hopeful that somehow, some way, he had gotten attached to me the way I did. There was no way I could say it out loud, let alone admit it to myself without wanting to punch myself in the jaw. There was this naive, innocent and dumb little part of me that believed in the portrait he had succeeded in painting, that got lost in his eyes so easily and that felt special.
That teeny tiny side of me hoped that I was different, that he would not just leave me like he would his other girls.
It was a small part of me, but I still hated myself for letting it exist.

"I told you this was a bad idea, why don't you ever listen to me? Fuck, Lara. You told me, right after I picked you up from his place that you wouldn't see him again,"

"I-I'm not..." I trailed off, avoiding Max's gaze.

Max looked away, laughing arrogantly clearly not taking me seriously. He rolled his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair before turning back to me, "Right, do you think I'm a fucking idiot?"

I hated getting lectured by Max as if he were my dad, but I knew deep down that he was everything but wrong. 

"That's a nice fucking hickey on your neck by the way, I wonder who it's from! I already know you did everything but listen to me so instead of lying in my face just tell me the truth and we'll fix this together. I know that look, Lara. I know you're under his spell, but trust me. It's all an act,"

"Maybe he's different, okay, Max? Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe he's not as bad as you think? You don't know him as much as I do."

"You're worse off than I thought. See that's the thing, that is why he has the reputation he does, he breaks hearts, Lara. For him to be so fucking good at that game, he needs another player and the second she starts getting attached she's in that shitty ass game, she's fucked. Don't you get it? You've got sucked in that game of his, you're just a prize to him and he's already won. Look at you, you're hooked,"

"Okay, okay. I get it. I'm going to stop seeing him, for real this time,"

"A tad bit too fucking late for that, darling," Max replied while taking a spoonful of his Ben&Jerry's ice cream. "But, since you're my best friend and I love you, obviously I'm going to be there with ice cream and some of my hot friends,"

I giggled for the first time since the beginning of this conversation and swallowed the lump in my throat, "Thanks, Max,"

✧✧✧

If I wanted to avoid getting humiliated in front of everyone by Nick, as childish as it sounds, I had to show him that I didn't care, even though

all I do

is care.

Days have passed of me ignoring his texts, his 3 a.m. drunk phone calls and basically every form of interaction he has attempted. It took a lot of effort and a lot of inner strength for me to resist him, but I could not fall back into his game. Max was right, he has a reputation for a reason and I was stupid to somehow hope I had changed him. We all wish deep down that we can change the fuckboy and that we'll be special enough for him to fall in love, but that's not how the story goes. This is reality, and chances are, I'm just another name on his list. 

The only reason he had gotten a bit sentimental with me was to really make me believe all the bullshit he was saying, to really make me think that I was different and that an us was possible. He was pretending to open up to me about personal stuff, about his family and about his past, but I've come to the realization that maybe it was all part of this character he has been hiding behind. 

Spending the last few days ignoring him and trying my best to hate him, telling myself theories that would make me despise his guts and attempting with every bone in my body to get rid of my feelings for him really convinced me that I was over him. I had succeeded in pretending so hard that I hated him, that my brain started to believe it was real.

But deep,

deep,

deep down, 

I knew it was pretty lies I was telling myself to conceal away my true, genuine thoughts, but I had to keep them going if I wanted to win that damn game. 

"Are you ready?" Scarlett's face popped in the door frame as the sound of her heels against her marble floor resonated in her empty house. I took one last glance at myself and pressed my lips together, admiring the makeup look I had achieved. I felt like a 10 and I was wearing black lace, everything that screamed danger, the way he likes it. I smirked and nodded in Scarlett's direction ready to spend my night sipping on boys' tears and looking like the fucking victory I was. 

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YO HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!! MORe to come in the next couple of days:))) Im back my babies