A HEART REVEALED

Alex's pov I sat on the floor of my room, my back pressed against the bed frame. Thoughts churned like a storm. The sadness weighed heavily on me as memories flooded my mind. Even after five years, that painful day felt as fresh and vivid as ever. Sleep eluded me. My dreams turned into haunting reminders of that day, my nightmares echoing the horror I couldn’t escape. Frustration bubbled within me. I hated this house. Every corner echoed that dreadful moment. I ran my fingers through my hair, gasping for air. I needed an escape. I felt trapped, desperate for release. Then, a thought sparked. I stood up, searching the shelves. I was looking for the sharp objects I had used before. Self-harm had become my twisted way of coping, my misguided way of coping, my only solace, my way of finding sanity in this chaotic world. Just as I clasped one in my hand, a knock at the door startled me. I shook it off, ignoring the persistent knocking, but the knocking grew more insistent. Finally, irritated , I stomped to the door, opening the door slightly, revealing a maid. Her eyes widened in fear, visibly shaken. "Good morning, Mr. Alex," she stuttered. I snapped, "I don't have all day." Her stutter returned. "I'm sorry, sir." Your father, Mr. Thompson said, "You should join them for breakfast." I hissed and slammed the door shut. She probably meant my mother, not my father. My father and I had a strained relationship. We were worlds apart. I'm the son he regretted ever having. A tarnishing shadow on his reputation, and hard-earned name. Why couldn't anyone understand? This was my only way of coping and staying sane. Dad, Mr. Thompson, a billionaire, is respected in New York City. People praise him for being a good and worthy man. While, I was labeled the rebellious son, the arrogant, proud bastard son. I didn't hate my father , but i certainly didn't like him either. Frustrated, I turned back to the shelves, ready to continue. Just then, my phone buzzed, breaking my focus. What the actual f**k? I thought, irritated. I angrily marched over to the phone, glancing at the caller ID. It was Xavier. I answered, "Yo, where you at? "Get your ass over here and let's hang out!" His American accent cut through my thoughts. I shot back, "See you soon, fool." I said and ended the call. Time to freshen up. I stepped into the bathroom, ready to wash away the mess I'd become and prepare for the night ahead, pushing aside the darker thoughts I'd been wrestling with. Thoughts of clubbing, partying, drinking, and flirting raced through my mind. Each was a way to escape the mess, the turmoil I felt inside me, just as much as I derived pleasure from my harmful habits of inflicting pain on myself . It was easier for me to lose myself in chaos than face my pain and struggles directly. After an hour of getting ready, I was finally dressed to go. I glanced at the time , my dad would've left for work by now. Good. Cause I didn't want his angry face ruining the vibe. Tonight was about letting loose and shaking off the weight of my worries. I stepped out of my room, into the garage. I grabbed my latest car and sped off to Xavier's place. When I arrived, I found our friends Isaac, Elijah, and Jordan were there already, each with a girl on their lap. I greeted them with our usual bro-style banter. One of the girls stood up and approached me, swaying her hips. "Hey, handsome. How you doing?" She said, playfully touching my arm . I couldn't resist; I gave her a playful s***k. She laughed, clearly enjoying it. As I settled onto the couch, she slid onto my lap, and we began kissing passionately for a few hours, and we were lost in our world. Things were heating up until something smacked my head, snapping me back to reality. I looked up to see Xavier with a smug grin. "What the actual f**k, man?" I shot back, annoyed . He just chuckled, "Have you seen the latest update?" "Do I look like I give a f**k about that ?" I was eager to get back to our moment. When Xavier said, "Alex, you're trending. You'd fit right into a p**n show." That caught my attention. I pulled out my phone, went online, and saw a video of myself and a girl caught in a steamy moment. My heart raced as I shoved the girl off my lap, not even caring if I startled her. "Dude, you'd really fit in a p**n movie," Xavier said, laughing. I shot him a glare. "Your dad's gonna screw you alive if he sees this," he added. "Do I look like I care? I didn't upload the video," I snapped back, the room going silent as I pondered who could have posted it. After some tense moments, Xavier broke the silence. "Guys, why are we sitting here sulking? Let's hit Le Clair de Lune and party like there's no tomorrow! Forget all this crap." Everyone agreed, excitement sparking in the air. We piled into our cars, the girls joining us. The music blasted as we sped down the road. At that moment, everything else faded. I felt invincible, leaving all my worries behind. **************** We pulled up and jumped out of our cars. The sign reading "Le Clair de Lune" in bold letters glowed brightly. Xavier, brimming with excitement, shouted, "What are we waiting for? "Let's paint the town red!" Our cheers filled the air as we charged inside. The club was alive. People swayed to the music, laughter echoed, and we made our way to the VVIP section where most ladies were waiting. A lady settled on my lap, and we got lost in our moment. Just then, I spotted this stunning waitress heading our way. She wasn't just any waitress. She had a rounded face and lips that looked perfect for kissing. Her curves could distract any man. Instantly, I imagined her in my bed, lost in pleasure. Her voice snapped me back. "May I take your orders?" she asked, her tone flat , barely hiding her disinterest. Our eyes met, but hers held a challenge. I felt anger bubbling inside me. No one looked at me like that. Xavier jumped in, ordering steak and the priciest booze. The girls squealed with joy. As the waitress walked away, my friends gawked at her. The girl in my lap noticed my distraction and kissed me, pulling my focus back to her. We resumed our making out, both enjoying the heat of the moment. Moments later, the waitress returned with our drinks. She shot me another defiant glance , still filled with that same spark . The evening pulsed with energy. Music thumped like a heartbeat , drinks were flowing , and laughter filled the air. Some guys were lost in the rhythm, girls were giggling as they perched on their laps, while I was deep in a moment with my own date. Jordan was in his element, shouting, "This is amazing! Bring on the booze!" Moments later, the same waitress approached our table, her flat tone cutting through the excitement. Jordan, ever the charmer, shot back, "Yes, beautiful, we need more drinks." She didn't seem impressed and walked away. Minutes later, she returned with the drinks. Hours passed, filled with energy and laughter. Then, she returned and delivered the news: her shift was done, and we needed to settle the bill. My friends cheered for me, pride swelling in their voices. I pulled out my black card, ready to show off. But when she ran it through the machine, an error popped up. Frustrated, I snapped, "Try it again! How can it be an error? "Do you even know who I am?" I watched her try again, but the machine rejected it once more. Suddenly, she accused me of using a fake card, raising her voice and drawing attention to our table. I was furious. I grabbed my drink and splashed it on her. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to?" I yelled. "I'm the popular Mr. "Thompson's only son!" My friends tried to calm me down, pulling me away as Xavier stepped up to pay the bill. Once outside, I whipped out my phone, ready to call my dad. I knew he was behind all this. Without waiting for my friends, I jumped into my car and sped home, anger boiling inside me.