Chapter One: A Perfect Life Built on Noise
The sound of glass shattering echoed through the mansion.
Adrian didn’t flinch.
He stood at the top of the grand staircase, one hand resting lazily on the cold marble rail, his expression blank—almost bored. Below him, his parents were exactly where they always seemed to be these days: locked in another argument that felt less like a disagreement and more like a routine.
“You think throwing money at everything fixes it?” his mother snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut through steel.
“And you think complaining changes anything?” his father shot back, equally cold.
Adrian exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his neatly styled hair. Same lines. Same tone. Different day.
“I’m tired of this, Richard!” his mother yelled, her heels clicking aggressively against the polished floor. “This marriage is a joke.”
“A joke you were happy to be part of when it benefited you,” his father replied without missing a beat.
Another crash. This time, a glass vase.
Adrian’s jaw tightened slightly, but his face remained unreadable. It wasn’t shock. It wasn’t pain.
It was irritation.
That’s all it ever was.
He had heard it so many times that the words barely registered anymore. Love, marriage, loyalty—they were just words people used when it was convenient. His parents were proof of that.
They didn’t love each other.
Maybe they never did.
And yet, they stayed. For status. For image. For the illusion.
Adrian let out a quiet scoff under his breath.
Pathetic.
Without another glance, he turned away from the scene, his footsteps silent as he walked down the long hallway toward his room. The noise followed him—muffled shouting, the tension thick enough to choke on—but he ignored it.
He always did.
Reaching his door, he pushed it open and stepped inside, shutting the chaos out with a soft click.
Silence.
Real silence.
His room was exactly how he liked it—clean, expensive, untouched. Everything in its place. Everything controlled.
Unlike downstairs.
Adrian walked over to his bed and sat down, leaning forward slightly as he rested his elbows on his knees. For a moment, he just stared at the floor, his thoughts finally catching up to him.
What was the point of all of it?
The wealth. The image. The expectations.
His life was perfect—at least, that’s what everyone thought. Top grades, respected name, everything handed to him without struggle.
And yet…
It all felt empty.
His lips pressed into a thin line.
Love was the biggest lie of all.
He had seen what it did—how it turned into resentment, arguments, and cold silence. How people pretended, stayed, endured… all for appearances.
No.
He wasn’t going to end up like them.
He leaned back against the bed, staring up at the ceiling, his eyes dull with thought.
Maybe that’s why relationships never meant anything to him. Why every girl that smiled at him, every confession, every “I like you”… felt the same.
Nothing.
No spark. No pull. No feeling.
Just expectation.
He let out a quiet breath, running a hand over his face.
“Yeah…” he muttered to himself, voice low and almost detached. “Love’s not real.”
The words felt solid. Certain.
Like a conclusion he had already accepted.
Outside his room, the argument had faded into distant noise, but Adrian didn’t care anymore. He shifted slightly, pulling himself further onto the bed, one arm resting over his eyes.
His mind slowly began to quiet.
The thoughts, the irritation, the lingering frustration—they all started to blur together.
For once, he didn’t want to think.
Didn’t want to hear.
Didn’t want to feel anything at all.
And as sleep slowly pulled him under, Adrian held onto the one thing he
was sure of—
Love wasn’t real.
Not for him.
Not ever.
