BEING EDITED
~†~
Local neighborhood orphan, Brooklyn Persson, has only ever wanted one thing:
Freedom.
Not family, not food, just pure unrestricted independence -although she can't deny that money would be a nice addition too.
However, just three m...
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SIMON
I stared at the letter on my bed. For a piece of paper, it sure carried a lot of weight.
"Can't believe you're gonna be away from us, bro," Ayub, my long time best friend, said, casually handing me things to pack in my suitcase from time to time. "It's not gonna be the same without you."
I rolled my eyes. "You'll still get to see me during weekends."
"With Prince Charming over there?" Rosh scoffed, earning a nod from Ayub. "Doubt it. You two would barely be able to take your hands off each other, trust me." She stood up to dramatize in a high pitched that so did not sound like me. "'Oh Crown Prince, how I have missed you so.'"
Amused, I threw a shirt at her. She ducked instantly, letting it drop to the floor. "That's not what I sound like. And who the fuck talks like that?"
"Actually you do," Ayub seconded easily. With a deadpan expression, I picked up another shirt and threw it at him, smack right in the face.
"Shut up, you two! You're interrupting!" she cleared her throat, "Then he's all like 'Yes, Simon, as have I. I love you so' then there'll be some intense rated R stuff going on–"
"You should become a pornstar, bro," Ayub contributed, "I hear they're rich. And with the Crown Prince, you'd be even richer."
"Nah, he doesn't have the guts for it. They'd probably reject him."
"Simon or the prince?"
"What the fuck?" Although amused, I was beyond appalled, staring and wondering just where and how the fuck I'd found these two idiots. I really mustn't have been thinking clearly the day I'd met them.
I shook my head at them and carried on with my packing. Their bickering didn't stop, shifting from pornstars to actual celebrities and 'clout chasers'. Even though I'd still get to see them from time to time and we'd still have our regular video chats, I'd miss this constancy —them.
The room suddenly went quiet, a thickening tension in the air. Curious, I looked up to see why and when I did, I wished I hadn't. As hurt as I was, if the ache in my chest was any indication, my anger —far far greater — rose just seeing her, just thinking about that day on the shooting range.
In as much as I wanted so badly to understand her, to relate with her feelings, I just couldn't get over the glaring fact that she'd chosen that jerk, August, over me. That she tried to protect him. That she fucking betrayed me. Me. Her familia.
It was as bright and glaring as a neon sign with no fucking off switch.
"Uh, what's going on here?" she asked, looking around confused. Her gaze settled on my suitcase, eyes widening on realization. "You're...you're leaving? Where are you going to? Where will you stay? Where..."
