The Art of the Broken Brush

Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Please be informed that this story contains mature contents, brutal scenes, and vulgar words that are not suitable for very young readers. And also, there are leaden scenes that may trigger dark emotions. Read at your own risk.

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"Ah... Ahh..."

"Damn! Babe, you are so turned on!"

"Ah... Fuck! F-Faster..."

"You like it, huh?"

"Oh shi-- Ah!"

The loud music coming from the huge speakers could not cover the loud moans that I am hearing. The sound of the kisses sent a chilling sensation down my spine, and it is driving me crazy. All I could do was to clench my fist for me to control my emotions that are starting to build up inside me. Dammit!

"Hey!" I shouted towards my right to catch the attention of a certain couple that are making out.

There is this one couch that is not so long in between our couch. The blonde woman is sitting on the lap of the black-haired man. The hand of the man is sneaking inside the skirt of the woman like he was searching for something on that area, probably, fucking that woman using his fingers. I saw how the woman flinched and turned her head towards me with a hint of annoyance on her face. The man didn't even remove his hand.

"Couldn't you fucking do that in a more private place!? You are ruining my night!" I said as I stare the man straight into his eyes. Damn! I am here inside this club to ease my mind and to listen to the music, not to listen to their fucking moans.

"Dude, you are just envy because you don't have a girl that could bring you to heaven," the man said with a smirk plastered on his face. The girl just laughed after hearing his boyfriend's comment. I am uncertain if they're really a couple or just fuck buddies... or both? Is there such thing as that? The hell I care.

"So, you already went to heaven? That's fucking odd," I said then have a shot of my favorite Scotch whiskey. That's odd, right? I mean, why would God let a fucking devil to enter His kingdom?

"What the hell does that mean, asshole!?" He was about to stand up but the woman stopped him by whispering something on his right ear. The man laughed to whatever the woman was saying; looked at me; and then, kissed the woman torridly. I just raised my brow and continued with my drink.

I finished first the last 3 glasses of my neat drink then leaned my head on the backrest of the sofa while looking at the neon lights that are dancing together with the rhythm of the music. My heart rate increases, and I could feel the pain on my chest. I just shrugged it off like it's part of my daily routine. I, then, scanned the whole place to observe how everyone around lost control of their selves. They dance like there is no tomorrow; get drunk just to forget all their problems that are silently screaming inside their heads; wearing glittering skimpy dresses to let their body breathe from the toxic smoke of criticisms that were ruining their skin of confidence; and, having sexual interaction with the strangers is like having intimate conversation about the untold emotions that were hidden from the world.

I heaved a loud sigh and closed my eyes from the world of pain and loneliness. I don't know. This place is full of people but still reeks loneliness.

When I was just a kid, I hated how crowded and wild the club could be. All I wanted was to live my fucking life away from this messed up part of the society. I was wondering why most teenagers loved to get wasted in this place full of strangers. I was wondering why they would bargain their bright future for this dark chaotic place. I hated the place. I hated the noise. I hated the people. But now, I am one of those people... and I fucking hate myself.