32. Chapter Thirty-Two
Every Sunday night, Nate and Theo throw a party, just like they’ve been doing since the day we met them.
Although I wouldn’t necessarily call it a full-blown party. It’s mostly just the two of them, Ace, me, and a few adventurous girls who are up for anything.
I’m currently lounging on the couch, taking sips from a bottle of Jack and indulging in a joint while Ace happily entertains himself with two girls on the nearby couch.
Nate and Theo are huddled together in a dimly lit corner of the room, with a girl squeezed between them. They always prefer to share a girl rather than going solo, and it’s surprising to see how much the girls seem to enjoy it based on the noises they make.
There’s a blonde next to me on the couch, rubbing my cock through my jeans, trying to get me aroused, but it’s not working. Once again, my cock is a no-show for the party.
Taking a sip of whisky and inhaling from my joint, I close my eyes and focus on her touch as she strokes my cock. Maybe if I could just fuck someone else, then maybe I could move on from this fucked up mess in my head. Although her touch doesn’t turn me on, the feeling of her hand on my cock is pleasant and soothing. Not at all like Poppy, who was on a whole other level. Just being in her presence got me so damn horny, and when she touched me, I went fucking wild. I feel my dick thicken, coming to life just at the thought of the things we did. Maybe I”ll give this chick beside me a shot. It might help me get back on track and finally move on from Poppy. Leaning my head back against the couch, I surrender to the soothing sensations of her touch.
“You like that,” she whispers, sensing my arousal.
“Shh, don’t speak,” I respond, not wanting her to ruin the moment for my dick down there to realize it’s not who he thinks it is.
“Want me to suck your dick?”
“No,” I firmly tell her. “Now shut the fuck up.”
No chance I can let some girl give me head when I can”t even handle a simple hookup without freaking out. But one day, I”ll be my old self again. I just need a bit of time. But nothing and no one will ever compare to the mind-blowing blowjobs Poppy used to give me. Just thinking about her lips on my cock gets me rock hard. But this girl next to me stroking my cock seems to think it’s because of her. She shifts and I feel her getting closer, her tits touching my arm. I crack one eye open, wondering what the fuck she is doing, only to realize she’s going in for a kiss.
What the fuck does she think she’s playing at? I quickly turn my head to avoid her lips, but they unexpectedly land on the side of my face. Anger overwhelms me, and I forcefully push her away.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I yell, causing her to fall to the floor, landing on her ass.
As I rise from the couch, anger courses through me as I cast my gaze upon her. It’s unbelievable that this girl would even dare to kiss me. I simply have no desire for any more hookups that involve kissing.
On the couch opposite, Ace leans forward, his eyes sweeping the room before coming back to me. The two girls seated on either side of him pause briefly, intrigued by my actions.
Breaking the silence, Ace speaks up. “What’s the problem?”
The girl who had just moments ago been stroking my cock suddenly stands up and glares at me, clearly annoyed.
“Wow, I can’t believe I was going to fuck you, you jerk,” she snaps.
She stomps across the room and sits down next to her friend on the couch beside Ace. Honestly, I couldn’t care less. Let him have her. I’m not bothered. She was never the right fit for me, anyway. Sure, she may have been blonde, but something just didn’t feel right about her. Even my dick could tell, because I had to close my eyes and picture someone else just to get turned on.
”Chill out, man,” Ace says, coming over to me with his boner poking out, and the three girls on the couch all look at me.
“Fuck it, I’m done,” I announce, making a beeline for the exit. I quickly grab my jacket but decide against putting it on, unwilling to let go of the whiskey bottle and the joint. All I crave right now is to escape this place. I thought I was getting better, but that text from Poppy earlier today has sent me spiraling back into despair. All I want tonight is to get high and momentarily escape from the problems of this world.
For weeks now, Ace has been determined to get me laid. He’s introduced me to several chicks, and there have been many opportunities to hook up at the parties organized by Nate and Theo. However, I just haven’t been able to bring myself to take part. Even tonight, when that girl started messing around with my cock, I knew she was a sure thing, but I wasn’t into it. I wish I could go back to the days when I could fuck anyone before Poppy entered my life. I just wanna get laid and be done with it, but it’s proving to be a challenge. Poppy’s presence still lingers in my thoughts. I can recall the feeling of her body under my touch, her unique scent, the sounds she made, and how I couldn’t tear my gaze away from her beautiful face when she came on my cock.
Even the noises coming from the chick Nate and Theo had over in the corner were messing with my head. There”s no way I could hang around and be reminded of what I left behind. It”s just too painful.
Making my way downstairs to the ground floor, I navigate through a crowd of people who are passed out or completely wasted. Since I arrived, I’ve been intentionally ignoring a girl who has been giving me flirty looks, clearly showing her interest in hooking up. She’s a gothic chick, the type of person I usually find intriguing and could have a wild time with. However, even that no longer holds any appeal for me.
Tonight, as a gentle coolness fills the air, I pause to slip on my jacket. I flip up the collar, determined to shield myself from the cold. With a purposeful stride, I make my way toward my secluded sanctuary - the refuge I seek when I need to be alone with my thoughts.
I settle on the hill, ready to immerse myself in the soothing embrace of alcohol, hoping it will ease the weight of my sorrow.
Each time I come to this place, I am drawn to the breathtaking city down below. The shimmering lights gracefully dance upon the water’s surface, creating a captivating reflection.
Even in the late hour and darkness, the streets are alive with the bustling presence of people, jogging, and walking their dogs. I can”t help but stare at the electrifying flashes of lightning in the distance, telling me a storm is coming. The air carries a faint scent of rain, heightening the anticipation of the impending downpour.
As I retrieve my phone from my pocket, my attention is captivated by the image of Poppy that I had been admiring earlier. It’s the snapshot taken when I brought her home, a memory that was once cherished and proudly displayed as my screensaver, now absent due to our separation. My gaze wanders over the contours of her face, appreciating the gentle slope of her chin, the elegant prominence of her cheekbones. Her hair playfully covering her eyes while she”s asleep.
It’s almost cruel how my mind continuously tortures me, reminding me of every contour of her body and every tiny flaw she despised, which I thought was nothing less than perfection. In an attempt to find solace, I switch over to the text message she sent me earlier today.
Princess: Xander, ring me or answer your phone, please. We need to talk ASAP. It can”t wait.
I unscrew the lid and take another guzzle, the warm, brown liquid soothes my throat, fulfilling the craving I’ve had since I walked away from her. Each gulp slowly eases the pain. While enjoying the effects of another hit from my joint, I casually scroll through the many text messages she’s sent me over the weeks, messages that I’ve neglected to respond to. Guilt seeps in like a relentless poison, intertwining its presence within the very essence of my being. She”s the first girl who”s made me feel something, but I just tossed her aside like she was meaningless. Perhaps she hates me now. Maybe these last few weeks have shown her how worthless I really am.
With another sip of whisky, I summon the courage to dial her number.
It rings twice before she picks up.
“Oh my God, Xander,” her voice resonates, causing a rush of memories to swirl in my mind like a hurricane. The way she effortlessly pronounces my name with those lips sends a chilling sensation down my spine. Her voice serves as a constant reminder of the pain in my chest, the agonizing guilt that courses through my body for abandoning her.
Then I can’t help but recall the hurtful words uttered by her mother, words that have haunted me ever since. They serve as a constant reminder that I am not good enough for Poppy. I fear that one day she will realize what everyone else sees - that I am a worthless, insignificant person in this world. It’s as if I will never measure up to the person I should be for her. Swallowing becomes a struggle as a lump forms in my throat, hindering my ability to speak. I no longer feel like a man, but rather a feeble, voiceless coward who is unable to stand up for himself. It seems that I am incapable of providing anything for her, not even my own voice.
“Xander, are you still there?” she asks, her voice trembling with an unmistakable sense of desperation.
I cut off the call, but the echo of her melodic voice lingers in my mind like a haunting symphony. I let out a deep sigh and cover my face with my hands, feeling the weight of regret seeping through my fingertips.
The piercing sound of my phone ringing, loud and distinct, cuts through the peaceful silence. I let it ring, while my eyes stay on her photo displayed on the screen. I hesitate to answer, because what could I possibly say to her? How can I find the right words to explain my reasons for walking away? Perhaps one day, my newfound fame will validate me, proving that I am now deserving of her. Maybe, just maybe, she will find it in her heart to forgive me for all the terrible things I have done to her.
Instead of answering, I let the call go to voicemail. But, to my surprise, the phone won”t quit ringing. In frustration, I press the reject button. The ringing persists, now reaching its fourth cycle, pushing me to my breaking point. I suddenly rise, leaving my bottle of Jack on the hill, and hastily head towards the water. I can’t take this torment anymore. There is only one way to bring an end to it all.
“Please Princess, don’t hate me for what I’ve done,” I murmur, my voice tinged with sorrow, tears pooling in my eyes. With a heavy heart, I fling my phone towards the murky depths of the water, its screen flickering to life once again with yet another incoming call. A distant splash reverberates through the air, intensifying the pain in my chest.
I dream of being by her side someday, and I”m getting more desperate with each passing second. Yet, I am afraid of her witnessing the version her mother predicted she would eventually encounter. I never want to see that look on her face when she realizes everyone is correct. Especially since she”s always seen me in a different light, appreciating my individuality and assuring me I”m truly something special.
“I’m so sorry, Princess. I need to put myself first so we can have a future. Then I”ll be good enough for you.”
As the gentle drizzle lightly kisses the earth, I redirect my focus back towards the hill, ready to sit in the rain and relish every drop of whisky left in my bottle.