Because Who Could Love A Broken Girl? ✔️

Who Could Love A Broken Heart

Grayson's P.O.V.

I wake up from the sun shining through my blinds. I roll over in the unusually firm bed, my body making contact with what seems to be another.

I force my eyes open to smile down at my beautiful girlfriend, but who I see, nearly makes me fall from the bed.

I immediately shoot to a sitting position as I spot Britney grinning up at me. Scanning the room, I notice that it isn't mine, nor Skylar's.

Suddenly, the events of last night begin gradually returning to memory. Only then do I notice the monstrous headache taking over. I groan and rub my hands over my eyes. Glancing downward, I note that I'm completely nude.

What the hell have I done?

"What the fuck happened last night?" I demanded.

"Awe baby, you don't remember?" She fake pouts. "We had such a great time. It was amazing."

"Britney, don't fucking mess with me. I could seriously lose everything. Did we have sex last night?"

"If you want proof, just check your phone." She smirks.

Immediately, I grab my phone off of the nightstand and type in my passcode.

New Message From: Britney

Britney: Video Attachment

Included in the text, is a video of last night. Though I can bring myself to watch the whole thing.

"You fucking recorded this!? It's bad enough that you took advantage of me while I was drunk. But this!?"

"How else was I supposed to get my message across?" She asks innocently.

"Your message?"

"The message that you're mine. And you belong to me, not that Skylar bitch."

"Don't fucking talk about her like that." I growl.

"Whatever. She's not a problem any more."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

That evil grin returns to her face as she pulls out her sparkly, pink phone. She taps the screen few times before turning it to face me.

I look over the screen, finding that she had sent the video to everyone. Including Skylar!

I let out a string of curses as I ungracefully climb from the bed. I rush to throw in my clothes, not bothering to respond to Britney's calls.

I sprint out of the room and down the stairs, nearly running into the door. I fumble with the nob a bit before swinging the door open.

I ignore my pounding headache as I advance toward my motorcycle. Climbing on, I shove on the helmet and speed away.

I swerve through the cars in the street, disregarding the honks and shouts that I get in return.

As I pull up outside our house, I nearly crash with the suddenness of my breaking.

I throw the helmet on the ground and race to the house. As I enter, I don't bother greeting anyone else, I only charge up the stairs, throwing every door open along the way.

When I approach her room, a bad feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. I push open the door, only to see that it's empty.

The bed is made, all the lights are off, and there's no sign of use within hours.

Worry and confusion cloud my thoughts as I run through the room like a mad man.

I check the bathroom first.