Chapter 22 | | Rather a Hooker Than a Cooker...

I resided in the same room like last time. Sun rays were shining through the window, lightening up the room and also my mood. Sitting on my huge queen sized bed, I read a gossip magazine, totally amused about people's ridiculous problems.

I don't know why but gossiping is really one of my bad traits, not about everyone, just about the people I don't like and those who gossip about others as well. Concerning yourself with other people's problems and flaws is quite satisfying because then you don't have to deal with your own problems.

I know, not the best way to go for but as I said: I'm human, not a saint. Also, if you share your personal life with everyone, don't be surprised if someone starts to spread rumours about you.

Most of the girls in my school brag very loudly about all the guys they have slept with, so that everyone will hear it. It is kind of sad because that behaviour mostly results of not getting having self-confidence, usually caused by not getting enough attention from their parents.

It is terrifying what girls a willing to do nowadays just to compensate their insecurities. From inventing rumours about themselves and others to sleeping with tons of guys.

Celebrities are just the worst. In the magazine I'm reading right now are several interviews with celebrities and what they say is just beyond impossible. For example:

"Smoking kills. If you're killed, you've lost a very important part of your life."

I mean, technically she is not incorrect but that sentence does make hardly any sense. Do people say that just for the media or are they serious ?

"Whenever I watch TV and see those poor starving kids all over the world, I can't help but cry. I mean I'd love to be skinny like that but not with all those flies and death and stuff."

This is officially the worst and dumbest thing I have ever read. Do you ever think before you say something ? Is this some high celebrity irony, I don't get or what ?

All I wanted was to have fun and laughing about people's preposterous problems, like crying because you have lost your earrings in the ocean or complaining about having to drive the Mercedes instead of the Ferrari, but this just makes me sad. I closed the magazine and was about to put it on the shelf as the door slung open.

"Dinner is ready!", Noah yelled into my room, causing me to jump with fright.

"You scared the shit out of me, Evans. Could you at least knock or is this too complicated for your little pea-sized brain.", I huffed and tried to close the door but he held it open.

"Why would I ? This is my house, Princess. I can do whatever I want.", he said as he came closer to me.

"What if I had been naked ?", I looked at him questioning, narrowing my eyes.

"I don't see the problem.", he shrugged and I hit his arm.

"You are such a jerk. Can't you just be normal for one second. Your bad boy behaviour honestly becomes very lousy and unoriginal."

Only a few inches were separating us from each other. We were exactly in the same position like last time where we had almost kissed. His cologne had completely addles my mind, making me unable to act in any kind of way. As he noticed my utter bewilderment, he smirked slightly, put his hands around my waist and pulled me closer, causing our bodies to touch.

"Don't try to fool me, Princess. I know you like it when I act like that. Just like every girl, you fall for bad boys.", he whispered seductively.

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