Pretty Poison

Forty - Three

◈ Luca ◈

I watch as she turns back once more, her sparkling cobalt blue irises glinting under the faint garage light, and without a second more, she's gone.

I turned my back to that door, my anger I tried so hard to push away returning, hitting me like a rogue wave. My heart pulsates with fury in place of blood, my adrenaline at an all time high.

My jaw clenches, on and off, each time harder. My teeth chatter, clashing and grinding against each other like the men and women is this god awful mansion. I stride towards the door to the inside, pushing it open with a force I never knew I had. Instantly, I hear a yelp as the door slams into someone on the other side, but I don't care, I don't turn to apologize, instead I continue on.

"Watch what you're doin' man!" A male shouts from behind me, but I only flip them off and disappear into the crowd.

The house reeks of alcohol and sweaty bodies, and it only fuels my anger even more. My eyes scour the people around me, watching them with dilated eyes as they dance, scream, and yell. The noise is incessantly growing louder, and my blood continues to boil. My skin feels hot, my rage overflowing.

I push through the drunken bodies, their faces twisted into appalled demeanors until they realize it's me, then they immediately change and back away. I turn into the large living room, subwoofers causing the paintings on the wall to tremble violently. As soon as I take another step, cheers and chants inundate the room, wine glasses and beer bottles trusted up in the air.

They all crowd around a single source, their bloodshot red eyes all focused on one thing...Vincenzo. I scoff and thrust my way though, people stumbling to the side in protest.

At that moment, I stop in place, staring down at Enzo, whose head is under a girl's dress, his hands on her thighs as she leans back on the elegant chair, gripping the handles for dear life.

The chanting only grew louder, I had enough.

"Vincenzo!" I shout, grabbing hold of his arm and ripping him up unforgivingly.

He's drunk, maybe even high, his eyes red as he lifts up a hand to wipe at this grinning mouth.

"Ah! Luca! So nice of you to finally come home!" He shouts over the music, the spectators shouting as the last word leaves his reeking mouth.

"What is all this, Enzo?" My tone is abrasive, low, my irritation taking over every piece of me.

"What does it look like to you? Brother? It's a party!" He bellows, his words slurred as he punches the air, his suit jacket tugging at his arm.

"I can see that, you fico," I spit in his face, our heights equal.

"Woah," he chuckles childishly, "Somebody's a little upset," he sounds like a hyena, screaming and laughing as if he had just told the world's funniest joke.

The others join in, laughing along with him and slapping their knees; they're sheep, all of them, all what they know how to do is follow. I glare at them, some of the women eying me up and down with lustful snickers. I feel disgusted under their gazes, and at that I involuntarily grab hold of Enzo by the back of the neck, pushing through the crowd to the outside.

As soon as we step outside I let go of him and throw him forward. He stumbles to the ground, rolling once on the perfectly trimmed grass.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" He shouts at me, struggling to get to his feet.