I’m dead.
On a non-whatimusdo related note,
VAMPIRE DIARIES JUST GOT GOOD AGAIN.
MARC DEFINITELY KISSES A LOT OF GIRLS FOR A GAY GUY IF HE KISSED ME I’D BE SOOO HAPPY.
XOXO
When the moon is full, you can even see him sucking out of the youth of unsuspecting industry workers.
He pays the casinos heavy sums to not go to the police.
It’s definitely safer to keep this situation off the strip.
A high class hooker looks back at Silva from the faded bedsheets, she’s the kind of woman pulling six figures from high rollers found at the VIP tables of the Strips most exclusive nightclubs.
So it came as a surprise that someone like Silva would want to go somewhere a little more remote, but industry talks and he could never risk his name. Adorned in $500 stilettos and the body of a Cirque du Soleil performer, she was as good as it got.
“We’ve all talked about you, you’re the face of the nightlife, and we wondered if you were some faggot or something.” Her poorly applied cat eye makeup accentuated her squinting, giving Silva a look of pure longing.
A dim yellow light coming from an old lamp lights the room, decorated with southwestern paintings and plain furniture as old as the both of them combined. It stood in stark contrast to her Marciano dress and his Salvatore Fergammo suit, you could still see their luxurious shimmer in the homely light.
“I’ve got a—” Ryan stopped, remembering the last few months with Ashley, Janus, and the loss of his girlfriend.
“Just shut up.”
She does.
Ryan grabs her hair by the back of her neck and lifts her face. Her startled eyes widen, as if to convey the fear that maybe Ryan’s a beater.
He breathes into her mouth, and she can only make out a faint mist coming from their kiss. She doesn’t remember anything after that.
Sedated and completely hypnotized, Ryan relaxes as sits next to her. A heavy sigh leaves him, his brow revealing the deep sadness at what he’s been reduced to.
“You’re going to sit here for the next few hours and listen to me like an old friend, family, anything. You’re going to console me, and make me feel like I still have someone left on this earth.
“I will.” Her unfocused eyes stayed put as she replied in a monotone voice.
You’re going to hold me, cry with me, and tell me I’ll be alright.”
Because on the inside he wasn’t.
PLEASE DON’T HURT ME IVE GOT SO MUCH TO LIVE FOR
I’M TOO YOUNG FOR THIS.
ALEK SANDAR, photo by yours truly and featured in a Bulgarian print magazine.
FUCKING 9 TO 5 IS KILLING THE JUNGLE CAT IN ME.
I’M A FUCKING STAR I’VE NEVER BEEN MORE SURE.