Better Not Be Love

CHAPTER 1 - PAST

"You are one conceited b*tch, aren't you? I wish you a lonely death."

To that, I raised my champagne flute in a toast. Some males have a natural ability to win a girl's heart. He was nearly racing out of the enormous hall while shouting profanities, and I smirked as I watched him. And to think that he just won the title for the best character award! How would his admirers feel if they saw him behaving like a real chauvinist bastard?

My smirk widened when a wad of twenty-dollar bills came into my peripheral vision. I rested my head on the couch's plush cushion while gripping the paper notes between my thumb and index finger.

"Why place such bets when you know I will win?"

I asked, shaking my head in amusement.

"With his lovely looks and all, I really thought that he would make it," the speaker said.

From the seat behind me, my secretary, Lorraine, whined, and I chuckled sarcastically.

"You know, I don't care about appearances."

I stated the obvious while allowing my gaze to stray across the club. As usual, the afterparty was dull. Just actors and celebs getting wasted and flaunting their achievements. If I hadn't received the writer of the year award, I would have declined the offer, but I couldn't. Awards and recognitions no longer piqued my interest, and I would rather be in my room watching a BL drama than be in the midst of inebriated idiots.

"What matters then? I have seen a wide range of men and women approach you. Smart, attractive, nice, witty, daring—the list goes on and on. Are you, by any chance, a autosexual?"

Lorraine, while being five years younger than me and my assistant, did not act that way. To me, she is more of a friend than a subordinate. And I didn't mind how she behaved as long as she did her job well and respected me in public.

"What matters to me, love, is adrenaline. None of these guys or girls excite me."

Lorraine sat down next to me, her wine glass swaying slightly from the movement. She rolled her eyes at me, as if she were tired of hearing the same thing over and over. Of course, she will be dead tired.

"I truly hope you don't die alone, as he said."

She had a sorrowful smile on her lips, and I could tell she was worried about me. Lorraine has been my assistant for the past two years, the longest anyone has put up with me. She was a die-hard fan of my writings and absolutely worshipped the earth my foot touched. But now she knows who I really am, at least to the extent I have shown her. There are still parts of me she hasn't met, and I would prefer to keep it that way. I despise it when someone comes too close to my conscience. They call me the mysterious writer for a reason.

"Of course not. I have you, my family, and Perry."

I grinned, wanting to avoid this conversation. Lorraine, on the other hand, was not having it. She tsked in irritation.

"I have a boyfriend. You rarely see your family. And Perry is a dog, for Christ's sake, and he is not even staying with you."

I shrugged my shoulders, knowing very well that she was getting drunk and my talking back would only end up in another argument.

"River..."

Lorraine was preparing to deliver another lecture when her phone rang. The song 'Love me like you do' from Fifty Shades Of Grey blared in the background. It was the caller's tone for her boyfriend, and I sighed loudly. That kid rescued my a$$ today.

"Matt is here."

She stated, while sliding the red button, and I encouraged her to leave. Matt was her high school sweetheart, and they have been together for a long time. I am positive they cannot function without one another. Lorraine gathered her belongings and kissed me on the cheek before retiring.

"Don't think we are done talking."

I smiled as I regarded Lorraine's disappearing figure. She drew a lot of attention as she made her way to the exit. She might easily be mistaken for an actress since she had a model-like body and an ethereal face. She wasn't, however, enticed by stardom or the offers that numerous filmmakers made. Maybe for that reason, she appealed to me during the interview. The girl had her eyes focused on me, and she even resembled someone who had seen her God in person. She did everything to get my approval and followed me around like a puppy. She cried when I reprimanded her, and every time I assumed she would leave, the next day she would be there with a smile. Lorraine saw me as her role model, and I saw her as a breath of fresh air among the fame-obsessed loonies.

I kept my gaze fixated on her until she was no longer in view. I am embarrassed for acting like a mother hen right now, but I can't stop myself. These human vultures would have already gotten their hands on her if it hadn't been for my involvement, and I would never allow that to happen. She was too innocent to realize what was going on behind the camera, but I assume she is learning a lot at the moment.

"Congratulations on your award."

I didn't turn around to see who it was. The obnoxious voice was enough to identify him. When his suit sleeve brushed across my hand, my skin crawled. Still, I didn't move as he settled into the seat that Lorraine had previously occupied.

"Thank you, Anthony."

I said, sipping my champagne. His breath reeked of alcohol and cigarettes, making me want to gag.

"Is that it? No hugs for your former teacher?"

I clenched my right hand and breathed hard, trying not to lose my calm.

"How is your forehead, Anthony?"

That seemed to make him a little sober, as I noticed him tense up slightly. Good; he still recalls the pain. I didn't look at him as he muttered 'slut' and walked away.

Anthony was the first director I worked with three years ago, and let's just say things didn't end well between us. I was a young author who unexpectedly climbed to prominence, and I was called by a production company asking if I wanted to convert my work into a movie. They wanted me to write the screenplay so that the emotions would be accurately depicted. I accepted the offer with little consideration, my exhilaration propelling me forward. It wasn't easy, but I eventually got the hang of it. Anthony was my mentor, and I liked him at first. He was older than my father and a well-known filmmaker. I had so much respect for him until he revealed his real colors.

Anthony contacted me one night to discuss a scenario, and I walked in with little thought. He was on the subject for the first half hour, then his tone began to shift. I felt like he was touching me too much, and an alarm went off within my brain. I excused myself, but he wasn't having it. After about five minutes, he was strangling me on the couch while attempting to remove my clothes.

I had always been temperamental and easily irritated. It constantly caused me problems, but it was also a blessing at times. Instead of being afraid, I grabbed the nearest thing, which happened to be a massive ashtray, and slammed it into his forehead with all my might. A scream broke out, and thick, crimson liquid began to stream down to my face. It made me sick at first, but I was too angry to give it much attention.

Anthony was going to call the cops when I snatched the phone from him and pinned him to the couch. I had a black belt in karate, which I never revealed to anyone.

"Utter my name, and I will charge you with rape. Be a nice lad and say you slipped. Or I will make sure you don't have that dangling object between your legs."

I made my point by pressing my knee on his holy part, and he cried out in agony while feverishly shaking his head and cupping the lengthy gash with one hand.

Since that time, he has avoided me like the plague. Not only him, but the majority of them. I exited his room that day with blood on my clothing, and the servant who assisted him with it watched me leave. Even though neither Anthony nor I said anything, the rumors spread like wildfire. And everyone could see Anthony starting to distance himself from me and the terror in his eyes whenever I approached him. After that, I turned into a b*tch and, much to my delight, was ignored by everyone.

The movie was a box office hit, and I received many awards. Ever since then, my life has changed drastically. And here I am, sipping on expensive champagne, wondering when this shitty party will be over.

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