$THE BIPOLAR BEAST$

CHAPTER 29* EVERY COLD NIGHT HAS A RADIANT SIDE TO IT

STEVEN'S POV
I was in an absolute denial about not digging enough information & getting to the bottom of it. Thinking about the past and betrayals always pricked my soft spots enough to remorse and bury my face in palms. Every single step towards tiana's assassinators felt like walking on a hot-coals aisle. There was no dead-end nor any path to pave. Their were no other goals to execute except for seeking tiana jovial in heaven. Only Tiana could fill in my empty-worthless heart. Her glistening face would always flash in front of me whenever I felt like getting her justice had to be my top-tier priority.

But here I was crying my heart out and losing tracks of hopes as every second, every minute, every hour & every day of my life passed like it never ever intended to wait for me. Or should I put it this way, leaving me alone in this ruthless-heedless world to make me comprehend hell on earth without even having an encounter with grim reaper. Men should stay strong, men shouldn't cry for petty things, men are obliged to have an alpha personality & much more extinct stuff like that is similar to you expecting toxic people to spread good-words about you. It's invalid. It won't work out because they are bound to be broken. To hell with the patriarchy!

How would strangers know what it is exactly to lose your other precious part of soul until it strikes the same boomerang at them. Especially when it comes to toxic family. If only I had an appreciable family, life would have been a rose without it's wicked thorns But at the moment all I have with me are vicious thorns without the rose petals which somehow manages to prick me every time I try to transform it into a plum-glossy bouquet.

There is absolutely no more time to explore. I must get in depth of this whole-spooky cryptic all by myself. I must embark on this journey all alone. Only then will I sustain to end this beat-around-the-bush game.

ERICA'S POV
What kind of a maniac boss is he? I hastened just because of his wow-so-commanding-vibes and i was all here outside the sweet-suite embellished with a pile of intrusive thoughts, growling stomach, a pinch of good hair day and to give it an aesthetic, smoking hot & sizzling look, a substantial wave of self-realization hit me hard in my face. How can someone with a collective-personalities ever be on time when their own bipolar sides must be battling out there with each other trying to figure out the less-bitchy personality among them. 

The boredom was just beginning to get the best of me until Mr bitchy sauntered outside the suite with his cold-new-dawn-personality. Which personality of his did he wear today?
Mr uncanny's face was masked with no emotions so it was very likely of him to lash out on me and then make a fuss about it. His ignorance towards me was just like me being his fan and waiting for his autograph in his delusional-dream-world. If I were ever him, I would have kept my personality in my goddam pockets and would have only shown it to those who deserved it.

"What? Want to eat me up or something?"  He sternly quizzed. His eyes were rapted on his blazer as he was grooming it until his eyes met mine. His tone was just as nasty as him. His arched eyebrows were very much in the mood to crash my remaining empathy for him.  I very much anticipated that this look of his were giving off as if we exchanged our genders where he was a reserved-vintage-coochie & I was a cocky-satire-dude. Even if i were a guy i wouldn't hit on him. Let alone be eye-fucking him.

"No, I don't prefer bitter food. But we can always make an exception you know."  with all speed i  briefed a smile flexing my cheekbones while peeking at him, at the same time getting the terrible honour to taste a bit of glossy-lip-tint as i bit them and oh my holy heavens, the gloss was spicy as hell. What exactly were the sellers were marketing? Or was it a spicy punishment for all those who didn't worship a beauty's lips? To speak the truth this wasn't a bad idea at all. Then took my sweet time to take in a good look at my velvet knee high pencil boots which Noah-the- delusional-heartthrob gifted me on my twenty-first birthday if that oh-so-special-birthday reminds me well enough. What a freaking birthday-blast-bumper it was. The credits definitely is titled to Noah.