Breaking the Fantasy (Polyfidelity)

Chapter 1 - The Empty Oscars

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    I'm polite and appreciative when my driver for the night drops me off at my home in Calabasas. Walking up the fee steps, I proceed to unlock the front door. Struggling to control my anger long enough to disable the alarm system and just as I had feared, my little sister runs in from the living room screaming.

    "Saville! Oh my god! Savvy!!" Sabrina screeches, using my real name and nickname. Obviously having seen the award show, she's bubbling with excitement before she registers the look on my face and drops her mood instantly.

    "Where is he?" I ask, seething the words from out behind my teeth. Knowing the asshole is home, seeing his obnoxious car parked in the driveway and the lights on in my bedroom, the question unfairly falls on Sabrina. Re-thinking my question, I change it while trying to stay calm long enough to be nice to my sister. It isn't her fault after all...

    "Which one is here?" I pose the new question in a calmer voice as I try and suppress my rage.

    "I think... the surfer." Sabrina responds in a unique tone. If it came from anyone else, I wouldn't understand it. This has been going on so long, now when she has to answer these questions her tone is a special one of reservation, sadness, and anger.
    Blinking back at her, I inhale and exhale a few times before bounding up the long staircase. Sabrina's voice calling out for me is a faint whisper as I storm my way to the second floor.
    Walking down the long beige, tastefully decorated hallway, I reach for one of the double doors in front of me and slam it open. Just as I had expected, my husband is mid-fuck with some blonde surfer twink in our bed. Though this bed and this whole room hasn't really hasn't been ours in almost a year.
After all the bodies that have traipsed through here, I would rather burn it than sleep in it.
    The petite, blonde bobble-headed boy at least treats me with respect and rightful shame, by shrieking and pushing my rutting husband off him. Launching himself off my bed, he desperately searches through the room with his eyes, looking for his discarded clothes.
    My husband, Gillian, on the other hand simply and very lazily turns over onto his back and gives me a bored look that begs me to yell. Throwing the stupid, naked, gold Oscar award onto the ground in the corner, I proceed to scoop a stray shirt and pair of pants off the ground.
Looking at the young, barely-legal naked boy, I politely and slowly hand him his clothes. In the few seconds that our eyes connect with each other, I feel strangely sorry for this boy. Because he is so young, because my idiot husband toyed with him and his emotions... Mostly because I see myself shining back at me like a liquid mirror.
Turning away from that quickly, I hear the boy's feet quickly but quietly leave the bedroom before I begin to scream at my husband.

    "It baffles me Gil, truly baffles me that you can run a successful Fashion brand. The same one I bankrolled and stuck my neck out for, yet, you can't seem to make it to one event." The words flow from my mouth. The same words I have used in the past, the same fight even, only the circumstances change. this time, this time was different though.

    "It's not like I actually expect you to care or give a shit about anything that concerns me, I only ask that you SHOW UP! It was the fucking Oscars Gillian!! I was not only photographed without you, but I had to get up on that stage and accept my award while everyone knows and whispers about how I'm sitting completely alone."

    I pace the room as I expel every over-boiling emotion out of my body. Gillian doesn't care, and at this part in our relationship, like I said, I don't expect it. His dull, bored stare hits me in the chest, in the heart as he replies.

    "Saville, I'm sorry."

    "96." The number escaped under my breath as I start to undress, defeated and exhausted from everything.

    "What?" Gillian asks, mostly just for to make himself feel better and not ever really out of concern, care or worry.

    "This is the 96th time we have had this fight." The way my words come out sounds like the life and air was suck out of me.
At 23 years old, I shouldn't have this much regret in me while supposedly living a 'dream life'.
    One thing I'm completely certain of is that I am in desperate need of a change. My next film, a remake of "Breakfast at Tiffany's" is starting production in a week in Manhattan. Thankfully it will be a 2 month production, which means a 2 month escape from this prison of a life I'm living.
    Then again...
    What can really happen in 8 weeks?

Hey HoneyBunnies, whether your coming from my "Love Through..." Series, or not, I'm happy to start this book off with a cliffhanger. Hopefully you guys fall in love with these flawed but beautiful characters that have really taken a life of their own.

Don't worry, the "Love Through..." Series isn't over yet, I just simply needed to get this story out now. It's been burning in my head for weeks and I honestly needed a break from my Series for a little brainstorm and refresher.

I'm so happy and ready to introduce you guys to Saville, Elliot and Alex... I truly believe you'll love them as much as I do.

Always remember to comment and vote on all the chapters you like, it doesn't even have to be mine, but please do it for anyone's writing that you truly like reading... It helps us and inspires us with confidence and motivation to keep expressing ourselves.

Love ya HoneyBunnies 😘😘