Down Syndrome Playboy Novels & Stories

“This spoiled Playboy again… does he ever get tired?” I shook my head. It couldn't have been another person but the infamous Playboy. Always making the news headlines with his silly scandals. No thanks to his conglomerate family that always found a way to clean up his mess. His family’s public relations sure worked hard enough. It was shameful being an acquaintance to someone like him. I wondered how his friends coped. If he had any at all. I called my friends and they agreed to meet up. They must have been bored to hell as I was.

The dim chandelier above threw shards of amber light across the floor, painting everything with an expensive loneliness. I didn’t move. I didn’t even dare breathe too loudly. My back ached from standing too long, and disappointment crawled up my skin like a rash that refused to fade. I had thought tonight would be different. That maybe, for once, I could win something. I played that game—UNO—a thousand times before. I was good at it, fast and strategic. I’d even beaten him at it when we were younger. So when he suggested it again, I thought I had a chance. Foolish me.