Three sexy doctors. One stripper. All living together in one penthouse.
Nicolette lives in the greatest city in the world, New York. But, she doesn't just live there... she sleeps outside on the benches or under the bridges. Nicolette needs a place...
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Lucas
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I fucked up...
I know what I did was wrong, but I wasn't expecting her to not forgive me.
Fuck, who am I kidding?
Of course, she won't forgive me.
Sam is in the room with her, hopefully feeding her. But he hasn't left and now I'm pacing. I shouldn't be pacing... I should march in there and demand her to stay!
What the fuck!
I ran into the gym and punched the punching bag as hard as I could. Then I do it repeatedly, punching harder until I hit it so hard I can't breathe or feel anything.
Turning on the radio, blaring it until I can't hear anything but the music itself. Seb soundproofed the room, because of my "outbursts" and I'm actually grateful he did...
I continue punching. Over and over until I sink to my knees holding my hand up to the swinging punching bag so it doesn't hit me in the face. When it stops swinging, I double over and put my hand on my chest. Struggling to take in a deep breath...
But I shake it off, suck up the pain from my chest and stand up.
I look down at my hands, seeing them shaking and covered in blood.
"Fuck" I breathe, but quickly realize that I don't give a fuck...
I need to keep punching, to let this anger out on an inanimate object. Not a person...
"Fuck!" I yelled, punching the bag, but I hit it so hard that it falls out of the ceiling. Clunking when it hits the ground. I kick it, causing myself to hiss. That hurt...
Fuck!
"Fuck!" I yell again, "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I continue kicking it until I physically can't do it anymore. I fall back down to my knees, doubling over the bag, wincing at my hands and now my foot...
I lean backwards, landing on my ass and glance down at my foot.
"Shit." I breathe, seeing how red the skin is and now it's turning black and blue.
Struggling to stand up, I limp over to the table where all of our drinks are sitting and grab my water. I chug it down, taking deep breaths. Trying to relax my body as much as I could.
I broke something... I think, not able to put pressure on my foot-
The surgeon in me is telling me to get off the foot. Do the RICE method and calm down.
But I don't.
I look over at Seb's expensive whiskey and hesitate...
I haven't drunk liquor since I was 18.
Looking away from the liquor, I shake my head, thinking about my mom. She would be so disappointed in me if I drank again-
It took me years to sober up and stop wasting my mother's money away on liquor.
