"Either you become a cheater and fuck me, or you break up with her and still fuck me. I'll win either way."
. .
"I usually get everything I want. But it wasn't the same case with him. I could show off my sweet smile and flutter my lashes, but that...
"I can't write one song that's not about you, can't drink without thinking about you. Is it too late to tell you that everything means nothing if I can't have you."
. . .
There's a popular misconception about the word jealousy. Jealousy should be used when someone wants something that isn't theirs.
But then you have the word territorial, which means that you're protective of that what's yours. People don't see it, but there is a difference.
I never understood jealousy.
Maybe it is because I'm beautiful myself, and because I'm satisfied with the way I look. I never complained about my appearance and I praised others for theirs.
I had everything I wanted. I have a loving family, never lacked any sort of love or attention. I'm the perfect student and I could get a lot of things if I just fluttered my lashes.
And if the few boys I briefly dated talked to a girl, I didn't mind nor did I look into it. I just trusted them.
But now, as I'm looking at an interview Carla had on a talk show, all I'm filled with is envy.
Envy because she gets to call Riccardo hers, she gets to wake up next to him and she gets him to fuck her.
I'm envious because of how charming she is, because of how she has them all wrapped around her thin fingers. A smile stretches across those red-coated lips and her shoulders shake as she laughs at something the host says.
Jealousy stirs in my insides because I can't have what she has.
I don't crave her fame. I never did crave recognition. But what I do crave is her ability to make Riccardo fall in love with her.
I continue to scroll through the articles written about her. I click on some interviews and watch her interact with others. Her raven hair compliments her fair and ashen skin.
Her gaunt frame is something many girls wish they had.
Yes, she's pretty funny and easy to talk to, but that's it. That's all there needs to be, honestly.
Letting out a sigh, I close my laptop and turn my attention to the garden outside.
I wonder what it was that made Riccardo fall in love with her.
I'd never want to be like her. If Riccardo decides to fuck me, it'll be because I succeeded in getting what I wanted, in my way.
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"Hey, honey! How have you been?" Chris asks with a smile and takes a seat next to me outside. I peer my eyes open and look up at him from where I'm lying at the pool.
"Chris, hey," I smile and get up, hugging him. "I'm good, and you?" I ask and take my seat back.
Chris is dressed in his swim trunks, planning to tan as well. He lies next to me and smiles. "Good, you know. Elena let me in and told me you were outside," he chuckles.
