//Blaine//
"Listen, man, I'm not saying you should go out there and fall in love, you've tried that once and look how that turned out -- no, all I'm saying is there are girls out there tonight, gorgeous girls, who would give you the night of your life and instead you're spending your time sitting in a bleak basement with a bottle of wine and thoughts of some woman who never even knew the real you."
Don E. Is stood in front of my desk, waving a cloth in one hand and a glass dripping with suds in the other. I'm sure he has more important things to do than lecture me on my failing love life. I've never even seen him with a girl, or a guy, why is it him giving me this talk?
He's right though, as much as I hate to admit it, Don E has a point. I can't stay sat in my office all night every night. Though for once in my life I can honestly say the thought of laying some random woman I find drunk in a club doesn't sound appealing to me at all. I don't want to think like this but, Peyton changed me -- for the worse; it seems now I'm always caught up on feelings, emotion, love. Caught up on things that I would mock others for caring about. Women were like a game to me before Peyton. I'd see a woman at a bar and try to guess how long it would take before she was passed out in my hotel suite for the night. Her clothes scattered along the floor somewhere near the door. I'd set some impressive records as well, always trying to find the women who would be the most challenging, if they were human it was a bonus -- A night of passion and a morning of full pockets after I fill her in on my brain business. One thing hasn't changed I guess, money is my muse.
The challenge doesn't interest me anymore though. It's not hard to charm a drunk and dazed woman into bed, but finding that someone? Now that's the real challenge. However, I'm pretty sure I've already found her and even more sure I've ruined all chances of that happening, so now I'm left to drown in my own self-pity -- and wine.
"Blaine? Are you even listening to me man? Look," He pauses, I feel uncomfortable, being judged by him, I feel as though he's looking down on me. He doesn't get to look down on me, I'm in charge here.
"I'm trying here, I really am, I hate seeing you this down. Go get some action tonight, or at least make an effort to speak to someone? God, sleep with Candy again if you have to, just get out of this ditch you've found yourself in. I can only deal with so much of this shit Blaine. It isn't you." And with that he stormed out, rubbing the glass in his hands dry considerably more roughly than necessary, his wrist must be getting tired, he's going to turn the glass to sand at this rate.
Is me not sleeping with women really that much of a problem to him, I mean Why does it really matter? Am I at the point where I'd take life advice from Don E?
Dear God, save me -- or at least get me a drink.
A/n
I know I know, I hate these too so I'll keep it short. (Just like this chapter, oops, I promise they get longer)
I just wanted to thank you for giving my book a chance and to remind you that feedback always helps!
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𝑉𝐼𝐵𝑅𝛢𝑁𝑇 - B.D.
Fanfiction"He's the kind of man who would go out of his way to chase whatever he wants until he gets it, yet he never finds himself having to run far. I'd give anything to make him chase me." TW//mentions of drinking, kidnapping, murder [DISCONTINUED UNTIL F...
