"𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞."
In which a declining Hollywood Star performs his vendetta to make Hollywood bleed.
This book is rated mature due to the triggering...
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LUCA JACKSON WAS going insane.
He'd been on house arrest since the fall of his European tour. He hadn't, and still wasn't, allowed to leave the mansion. His downfall was something no one saw coming-no one except Luca.
He didn't expect to be forced to go on a world tour after finding out what he had. He wasn't mentally stable to go and act happy when he felt anything but that. His management didn't care about anything but the money he was putting in their pockets. That was their downfall from the start-that was Hollywood's biggest flaw; no one cared about anyone; they only cared about who was making them money.
When Luca had a breakdown on stage telling his thousands of fans to go fuck themselves and that they all should live their pathetic lives somewhere else, he wasn't aiming it at them. His anger was towards his manager, Brandy Manning, and all the fucked up events and circumstances that shaped Luca to be the way he was currently. All the anger and trauma he endured over the years came out that day. Everything he forced himself to push down and forget blew up on the only people who truly were there for him.
The liquor couldn't contain him anymore. He's relied on alcohol too much growing up that now it barely got him drunk. Sure, it helped him not feel, but it never made him forget. Nothing could ever make him forget what he went through so young. Drinking was his way of fake control and not feeling anything, but it never helped him out in the long run in Hollywood.
Hollywood to people was the beautiful place that made dreams come true. It was the destination all people with big ambitions came to when they knew their dreams were going to become a reality. If only everyone knew how dark and twisted Hollywood truly was.
Luca stood up from the couch, the pretzel and potato chip crumbs fell to the dirty floor in the process. His legs shook beneath him, his bare feet walking beside the dozens of glass shards from the night before. Beer cans and different empty liquor bottles settled all around him, but mainly in his living room and kitchen since he never made it further than the first step to get to the second floor.
Walking to the counter, Luca stumbled over the chair as he tried to regain his breath.
It was bitterly quiet throughout the house.
He couldn't put music on anything, Brandy took his phone and anything technology related beside his television away after the tour. All he'd left him with was his piano and notebook as a way of release and entertainment.
He needed therapy-he needed something to help him. Brandy thought if he gave Luca all the liquor he could think of, he could repress the memories that haunted Luca every day, but it did anything but that. Drinking didn't help his anger and resentment for himself and everyone around him. Even though Brandy was a well known and respected manager and producer amongst Hollywood, no one knew who he truly was behind curtains-no one besides his money-making artists and other dirty producers. If the artists wanted to keep their stardom and didn't want to live a life of hell, they had to do everything, and anything, Brandy told them to.
