We return to the city early since I didn't apply for a leave from work that Monday. He sends me straight to the office and for the first time in two months, I don't dread going to work for not having anything to do. Because that means I have plenty of time to think about it.
Evie applied for a leave today so I really am on my own. I spent my lunch time at the nearby park, just watching people while having my sandwich.
When I see young, good looking couple walk by, I itch to say yes. Yes to being with him. Yes to have someone who'd love me and want to be with me other than because of a contract. Yes to having a boyfriend.
But when I go back to the office and sit in a meeting with an iron lady, I'm all about chasing the bright future, climbing the career ladder without any hassle or obstacles namely a boyfriend or a p
"Spitters are quitters." As if we're not making a scene already at the park, I laugh even louder hearing Evie's bold statement. I've stopped eating my sandwich, afraid if I'm gonna choke on it while listening to her. "I've never slept with anyone else so I don't exactly know if they taste the same but I'm really good at taking it." I wipe my tears seeing how proud she is, raising her half eaten burger to the air as if it's a trophy, "Every drop, Elle. Every. Single. Drop." And just like that I laugh hysterically as she grins, then takes a bite of her burger. "So you guys have been screwing since three months ago?" She asks casually when I've calmed myself, now resuming to eat my sandwich. I hum as I munch, "Mhmm." "Is it like going back and forth or you're staying with him?" She looks at me and before I managed to react she continues, "Which by the way, I know a certain Maybach sends and picks you up from work every day." I gasp, "How do you know?" "People have eyes, Elle. Esp
Have you ever wished something to go wrong so you won't have to do whatever you need to do, something you don't want to do? Like I wish there's some mix up with the contract that instead of 12 weeks, it says 21 weeks. Or the dates, instead of '17th of July to 17th of October, with the possibility of extension to 17th of January', the words between 'October' to '17th of' miraculously disappear leaving me no option but to stay until January. Or I haven't been so diligent with my pills that I missed one or two, miraculously planting a seed in me so I have to extend my existence in his life, until the end of it. Gosh there're so many things going through my mind of how much I want things to fuck up just so I can go back to him, because I really, really miss him. From having him with me every single day to a total disappearance like this, everything seems so wrong, so out of place. Worst of all, every single thing I do or see reminds me of him.
I'm exactly the girl your mother warned about.You know, the bad-influence friend who whores around instead of spending her time at the library, studying like a boring nerd.Well yeah, she's right. I am a bad influence, because I influence my friends with my luxury lifestyle. I unconsciously bait them with these high end materials I bought with the money I get from sleeping with older men, that after some time they're lured into being a baby, like me.My best friend Cleo joined Cupcake after being friends with me for two years. Unlike Kimmie, she came from a middle class family so I kinda understood how tempted she'd be seeing me in designer clo
Why, of all places, does he have to be here? At my home, my safe place? Three hours ago after we were done with dinner, Cleo already had Mr Montgomery's car waiting for her, while Kimmie hopped in an Uber to go to a bar meeting her date, so I went home for an early night. Just like any other night, when I'm not fucking anyone, I'd fuck myself by scrolling through the pictures and videos of us in my phone. As usual, once I'm all messed up by how much I miss us, remembering how fun we used to be, how amazing we were together at any time or place, with the spirit of totally convinced that I want him back in my life, I went to his social media to stalk on him, to feed my curiosity if he already has a new girl -or guy- so I can draft my next plan in case he's still available. Perhaps there's a chance for us,
I'm a realist but Owen has brought out the dreamer in me. Every time I end a contract I'd follow my very own guideline of How To Cope A Heartbreak in Less Than A Week. Because believe it or not, after spending 12 weeks with every one of them, doesn't matter if they aren't that appealing be it looks or attitude, I'm human. I released those oxytocin hormone, the love hormone everybody talks about, I got those when we had sex or did little things that in a way or another, I somehow fell for them. The guideline is so perfect that I would always able to function like a normal Estelle Evans again in less than a week. That's why I don't get it. I don't understand why I'm still hung up over that particular gay man. Why, after following the check list, through and through, I still can't get over him. I even did the unexpected thing; ran after him in the middle of the night. Exclusive Estelle must have mocked me from a distance right at that moment.
It's been four hours since I signed the contract; I don't know why the hell did I do it when we can just skip it and arrange this by ourselves. The legal fee, the membership fee, whatever fee there is, instead of throwing money like that Owen could've just given me those. Seriously, even the sugar babies need to pay the hefty fee, I wonder how much the daddies spend for their membership. "Owen will be here shortly," the hostess says once we reach a door, "You can wait for him inside." "Inside?" I thought she's leading me to a private table or something, not a hallway with a few doors on each side. "Yeah, this is his office." Oh? I've always thought he'd only be in the kitchen considering he's a chef but to read the sign on the door, wow. Do chefs really have their own office? Or it's just Owen being petty because he owns this place? [O. HarrisExecutive Chef] "He's in the kitchen so he'll be with you shortly. As he told me j
It's the middle of the week, and I'm so tired of the long-hour lab after multiple classes in the morning. It's almost ten when I reach home, my heart wants to unwind with a glass of wine and junk food but my brain is telling me to stay sane. I have to key in the data from my findings at the lab today so no alcohol, the last thing I want is to present an incorrect data population that can lead to a false result, getting me a bad grade for my final year project. Being in final semester is hard. Doing this Final Year Project is hardddd. But graduating with a first class degree would be so worth it. Getting a good job will be easy breezy later on. So yeah, I'll just need to buckle up for this crazy ride. Just a few more months till I graduate. 'Elle Elle Elle Elle Elle Elle' Kimmie and Cleo have been calling my name from the group chat since hours ago, but I decided to ignore them since I'm occupied with my
He leaves to clean the spill after a brief kiss on my forehead, as I stand here dumbfounded by this response.I thought we're gonna have some kind of angry sex -I love that shit but the only memory I have is the one in New York, when I discovered for the first time ever he's hard without having me making any effort- and there he is, taking his own sweet time wiping the liquid mess with a small kitchen cloth with no hint of angry sex.Or any sex in that matter.I march to the bedroom as I curse him for being so calm about it, for obeying what I wanted without a fight. Can't he say something like I will not apologise for what I did because I want to show you to the world. I want to show the world my world.Me, I'm supposed to