You stop in the middle of your bedroom and take a deep breath. You couldn't believe you were doing this. But you were tired of his ways. He was never home. Your boyfriend was the famous Logan Henderson. Sweet and sexy pop-star. You both lived together in a home near Los Angeles. He bought the house for both of you to live in. You were a rising star in Hollywood, ready to take on the world in acting. But your messy schedules didn't cooperate.
He got home late from the studio, and you had to wake up early to go to the set and film your TV show. That was before they cancelled it. You weren't so bummed out about it since you realized you could spend more time with your boyfriend. But nothing changed.
He still had to go to the studio, since the release date was close, he had to spend hours there. Not just that. Hours ago you were sitting down on the living room couch watching the news. Your mouth dropped open as soon as you heard the words "Logan Henderson was just spotted in a Los Angeles restaurant with Australian Victoria Secret supermodel Rachelle Rogers. Sources say it was really romantic and the couple shared a kiss or two. Thing is, this isn't the first time they've gone out to dinner. Is he over with (Y/N)?"
You continue on to pack your things in your suitcase, you were just finishing up when you hear his motorcycle go in the driveway, stop, and the front door of the house open.
"(Y/N), i'm home." He called out. You don't reply. He instantly gets worried, you always answered with In the kitchen, Logie! or Up here babe!. He knew you were home. He saw your car. "Angel?" He called out, his nickname to you. You got it because he said the first time he saw you, you were an angel fallen from heaven. You bit your lip and tried not to cry as you heard him walk up the stairs and see his horrified face as he sees the luggage.
"Logan. I'm leaving." You mumble.
"No, No. No!" He quickly gets angry, and from your experience. Never get Logan angry. He goes insane. He slams the door shut to your bedroom and he locks it. He takes two long steps towards you, you take the advantage and grab your stuff as you bolt through the door. Unlocking it with ease. Running outside you throw it in your car, Logan storms out and grabs your wrist. "Let's talk about this!" You pull your hand back and glare at him.
"Talk about what?! How you cheated on me with that Australian model?" You grit through your teeth.
"I've told you, there is nothing going on!"
"Bullshit!" You scream. He roughly places his hands on either side of your waist and pulls you in for a rough kiss. You try and shove him away, the palms of your hands pressing against his chest. But that only made him want you more. He grew breathless trying to force a response out of you. He pressed your body against his as he backed you up on the car.
Of course you still loved him, but you were tired of just being there. Alone. Without him. Just as you're thinking you smell perfume. Her perfume. It brought you back to your senses just as he finally parts his lips away from yours. You finally get out of his grasp.
"Fuck you, Logan!" You get in the car and lock the door. He quickly runs back inside.
C'mon C'mon. Start car. Start! You think. As the engine runs. As soon as it did.
You start to speed down the street. You start to think of friend's houses who will probably let you stay over, or how many cash you have in the bank to get a hotel room. Something tells you to check in the rear-view mirror, and you see Logan following you with his motorcycle.
"Shit." You curse out loud.
You come onto a dead end. You quickly turn left onto the next street. You know you have to lose him. He shows up in the mirror again. Your heart races. You feel him gain up on you. Then you turn right. Then left again. Its a 4-way. You stop, just then another car stops, and it's your turn to go. Logan is still following. You press your foot on the accelerator a little more. Just then. You hear a crash, and your foot slams on the breaks.
Your breathing accelerates, your blood sinks down to your feet. Your heart pounds against your chest as you take a look in the mirror.... there you see it. Logan's motorcycle lost it's shape. Now it's just scrap metal. Just a few feet away, there it is.