Anger. Guilt. Vengeance.
Those are the only emotions I have felt all these years.
Everyday is a battle to keep myself from losing a piece of me...what's left of me, anyway.
One moment, eleven years ago, is all it took.
They should have killed me w...
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Being Zen Antonov is easy.
All I have to do is plaster a smile on my face and that's it. People are in my corner before they even realise it themselves. I'm good at that. Deceiving, I mean. I've been doing it ever since I discerned life's easier that way. It's all about setting the story straight and then following it to the T, making sure people believe it, too.
And for my story, there are only two things that I need.
A practised smile and nonchalance.
See? So easy. And what does it give me? Less people on my case, no one suspects me and I can continue being who I want under that facade. People don't bother looking past it. Not that they'd be able to even if they tried. I suppose that's a perk of being surrounded by shallow cunts like that.
The real issue comes in when Zen starts to make an appearance. It's bothersome, trying to reel him in, repressing him, while making sure others don't see right through me.
It's been happening a lot lately.
As much as I want to believe I'm slipping up, I'm not. I don't slip up. The only one to blame here is a certain brunette who's been living in my head rent free. It's a surprising thing in itself.
Things don't capture my attention very often. If they do, it's fleeting. Gone as soon as it comes.
I've had zero luck so far in figuring her out. Needless to say, I've been more frustrated than ever. Again, that's a problem because Zen Antonov is the epitome of cool temperament–or is supposed to be.
Actually, I did find something. We're more similar than I would've imagined. How I feel around her is...liberating, in many ways. It calls out to the real Zen hidden underneath the mask and that's becoming a problem.
She's starting to see right through me. It probably won't take her long before she unveils the monster behind the mask. I can't let her see him. It's too soon–too soon to lose her to something like this.
But there's something missing, a link. There must be a reason why it's like this with her. I've had years of practice to perfect this facade and it took her all but a week to find the first piece to start the puzzle my mind is. There's one thing for sure though. Like me, she's hiding beneath a mask.
But unlike her, I can't seem to figure her out. Sometimes it's so easy to get a read on her as if I've known her my whole life. Other times I can't even recognise her. It's maddening. She's maddening.
Oh, the things I want to do to her for all the times she's shut me out. I have a feeling she feels the same about me. Now that she's not very good at hiding. It's endearing, the effect I have on her no matter how much she fights it.
