Lovebird

Chapter 2: Roman King

3:06 A.M.
BOSTON, MA

Draven's pov

I received a text message from Gemma.

''Sorry I won't be able to make it.''

Great.

If I'm not getting laid, then what am I supposed to do at this party?

I can always count on Gemma to either ruin my night or make it the best.

I should have stayed in the library reading.

Parties aren't my thing.

Parties involve caring.

Caring about a random girl's hair appointment just so she'll feel like it's a good idea to go home with you.

Caring about a bunch of drunk frat boys trying to teach you about brotherhood.

Caring about the rotating, sweaty, faded bodies dancing around you.

Or for you.

Parties involve something that I can't physically bring myself to do: care.

''Draven Romano! My man!''

I rolled my eyes.

''I'm not ''your man.''

''Why so grumpy tonight?''
Couldn't get lucky?

''You could say that.''

''That's not the Draven I know.''
I think it has something to do with you being so tense.
Maybe you want a little something to help you relax?
Or, on the contrary, let loose.

I know a thing or two about this guy, or the world in the general.

His name is Mike, he used to be broke, and now he sells drugs.

That's all I need to know about him.

''Not interested.'' I said.
Maybe some of the frat idiots will want your stuff.

''You know, you used to be fun.''
I think that crazy chick you were dating ruined you.

''And I think my fist is going to ruin your face if you don't get out of here right now.''

''Jesus Christ.''

He rolled his eyes again.

''Suit yourself. It's your loss.''

And with that he walked away.

Fucker.

My father once taught me that I was a king, and that the world was my kingdom.

That I could have everything I wanted in the snap of my fingers.

That feeling so much power would be the root of my happiness.

Then how come it feels like having it all, also means feeling like it's never enough?
———————————————————————
I walked into Gemma's house,