It all started on a Friday Night. 13 suspects, 1 dead body and a lot of blood.
Two complete strangers meet up to solve the mysterious shocking murder of their common friend and well-known footballer Colber Foster.
Meet Evren Maddox - the ravishing...
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NUMBER ONE CHANCE
A/N: this one reflects Brendan's feelings and thoughts ❤️ps: unedited (sorry for eventual wordy mistakes)
BRENDAN's POV
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"HE WAS A LIAR all along."
Bump... Bump... The glass of licor on my hand was touching the material of the sink every two seconds, a few drops of the golden liquid managed to escape somehow.
"You know why you don't know about Maddox? Because we swore then we would all close our mouths forever"
I loosened the black tie holding my sweaty neck, needing some air to breath. The space around is me suffocating, even though I am inside my own house.
"Colber never gave us a fucking choice!! You never really knew him at all."
A deep sigh leaves my mouth, though my eyes are practically glued to the movements of my shaking hand, which is causing the alcohol to balance from side to side.
All about the Lies. How can someone lie that much? How can one achieve such wicked never ending illusion?
I can sense the smell of the wet grass coming from my dirty black clothes and the feeling of the cold solitude reaping through my bones. I think I might need a shower...
"Guess what? She was his fucking girlfriend!!"
I do not move myself though, I think my head has taken fully control over my numb body. It keeps reminding me of his words, over and over again and I can't take it. The affect they have on me... it's- it's like venom entering my blood system, like I ran out of oxygen and my lungs are dying or some preconceived disease that keeps consuming my vital organs.
