Emily.  Black, grey and white are the themed colors throughout his house. I've always known he liked the colour black. It's dark and mysterious. I like it. I remember him saying.  I enter his kitchen and fall in love with how amazing it looks. Who knew the young Blackwell knew his color schemes and designs so well. You knew. A reminds me and that voice isn't lying. Of course I knew.  Asher has alot of talents but his main focus has always been to sing. He loved him but he was never allowed to persue it because of the Blackwell heir.  Their business folk, men and women, not musicians who take drugs and party their life's away. They have a reputation to uphold. Ashers father told him that after he had beated him and broke his instruments.  I remember aiding Asher on days and nights when his father got mad at him especially when he would sing. &

Emily. It's been two hours since I've been back at the Kingsley mansion, playing games and goofing off with my little guy when a distraught looking Alex rushed into the room, mumbling and grunting under his breath about Jasmine which is what brings me to my current situation. “Jasmine?” I call while my knuckles bang against the wooden door, waiting for her to answer or at least open the damn thing. “Are you alright in there?” I ask. As expected I don't get a reply back. “Alright. I'm coming inside now, okay?” I say, pushing open the door. And the sight I'm met with only hurts my heart more. I hate to see my strong, sassy bestfriend looking so. . . down and out of it with tears running down her face while she whimpers, her fingers clutched around something. “Jasmine. . . are you okay?” I walk towards the unmade bed.