The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

I throw up in the bushes to the side of the garden, holding my head as I sway around, shoes in hand and bag dangling down at ankle level. I feel like hell, tired and recounting- how many drinks I had and again gawp in disbelief that I can feel this way on a minimal amount. It hasn’t been that long since I stopped being a seasoned drinker, so there is no way my tolerance has waned this badly. I only drunk three, maybe four glasses at most, yet I am in the state of having had ten or more. Everything is spinning weirdly, and it doesn’t feel like normal drunk at all. Normal drunk doesn’t give me this dry throat and painful ache in my stomach that has made me throw up twice.

I stagger up to my front door on unsteady legs; the sound of the departing cab still echoing in the distance and alerting me to the fact it’s early in the morning, around four am. or more. I have no idea what my mom will say. I’m completely disappointed in myself. And to make it worse, being drunk just makes me crave to speak to Arrick again. My heart filling with reasons I should call him and my head finding excuses not to that are pathetic in comparison. This is the last thing I needed to do to myself.

I stumble into the hall when I get the door open, trying so hard to be quiet and catch sight of myself in the hall mirror. My hair is flyaway, dress hanging off one shoulder where that prick Malcolm tore it, and my lipstick smeared where he forced his tongue down my throat when I was semi-conscious on a booth chair. I came to in a quiet corner of the hotel, in semi-dark shadows to find him trying to get my clothes off. I pushed his groping hands and grinding body off in disgust while, the asshole called me a ‘cock tease’.

He actually had the nerve to try and hold me down, try and force his tongue in my mouth while his knees pried my legs apart, and I fought back and caused a hell of a scene.

Camilla just laughed at first, until I made enough noise and chaos to bring the attention of other drunken stragglers, and then she got snippy, dumping me in a taxi and telling me next time to lay off the booze if I couldn’t handle it. She seemed majorly pissed, unconcerned that Malcolm had managed to rip my dress and unhook my bra, and I found that my lace panties were around my upper thighs and halfway off.

I feel dirty and vile, wiping the back of my hand across the smeared mess in a bid to remove it with utter disgust. My head is a riot of drunken emotional anger, hoping to god that creep didn’t violate me in anyway while I was out cold, and wondering again how the hell I got so wasted on such a little amount of booze. Camilla can go fuck herself. So much for taking care of me; she seemed completely sober and sat gyrating on some loser’s lap, watching us the whole time, while getting off with his hand up her fucking skirt.

Climbing the stairs quietly, I sneak into my bedroom; the sudden urge to strip off this restricting dress and scrub myself clean overwhelms me. Tonight, I behaved exactly as I have always done; getting trashed while some sleazy man made moves on me. Only this time Arrick wasn’t at the other end of the phone to be pissed at me or come to take me home with him. Nothing has changed. I’m still an idiot, acting out and bringing heartache to those around me.

as I strip down, wiping the mess of makeup from my face as hot water pours over me, removing the smells and memories of that creep from all over. The smell of his aftershave on me makes me retch and I can’t get his slimy face out of my head. Waking up to that perverted fuck on top of me was like a flashback to hell. The nausea rises and I can’t stop the vomit hitting the floor of my shower cubicle as emotion pushes me to eject what’s

this is the same old Sophie with a new wardrobe and a new hangout, and I’ll be damned if I go down this route again. All tonight has done is made me realize that I don’t want to go back to this, don’t want to be

if he saw me now. I miss him, despite everything, and know how much worse it will be for me if I call him. I just want to hear his voice. Want to feel like he’s still there, that even with shit like tonight he would

time ago and one of the few things I cannot part with, about as close to him as I can get right now. My head is a mess and I’ve only pushed myself back to square one. This is everything I told myself I would change, everything that I have come to despise about myself since being back here. Tomorrow I will start over, get

***

breakfast with a gurgling stomach and pounding head, after forcing myself to get up, despite getting in so late, and I am trying to appear normal for the sake of my parents. My mom eyes me warily, but as yet hasn’t said much as I pick at my granola, trying to keep

look pale and washed out, more than usual.” My father interjects into my thoughts as he regards me over his paper. I keep my eyes on my plate and don’t respond. Knowing I literally have no

is starting the morning, and I literally cannot handle. My body is

His tone notches a few octaves in the anger department, and I sigh. Good timing to be a forceful

I’ll go back to bed.” I sigh, trying to stay passive and not get mad at him. My mom throws

and my mom jump with the sudden bitey tone. He never snaps, like ever, and I instantly bristle defensively with that good old fucking temper of mine. A rage, that he has always let me be, let me behave like a pampered little bitch, and now he has the nerve to try