THIS MEANS WAR
At the Night of Kingsleys' Homecoming Bash...
Brad stood rigidly infront of the tainted floor-to-ceiling windows of his apartment flat at The Prime Empire Hotel, holding a crystal glass, half-full with brown metallic bourbon, a hard expression marked on his strong handsome face. He looked down at the starry skittering lights and glowing buildings of Prime East at the top floor view from his condo. Brad closes his eyes. It was t*****e. He can't even barely appreciate its beauty now, not like he ever did before, when a golden angelic beauty, with soft curves and addictive giggles, Chanel no. 5 scent lingering around him, wearing nothing but a blue-buttoned down Polo shirt he owned and had kept just for her, stood there, enveloped tightly within his arms, her hair soft agains
