I never want to be put in that spot again. Stuffed in a little black box and lid nailled shut. Not being able to breath, beads of sweat waterfalling off my forehead. Scar and Sloane never knew, very little people did, not even mum and dad. My "holiday" in Canada was very much made up. I stared at my hands, shuddering as I remembered to cool touch of the silver band.
They all see me as cool and confident. Playful, alluring, seductive. But it's all an act. A bandage on the deep explict carve caused by the knife of 'love'. If there's is such thing. I refuse to be a trophy for display, i refused to be used and owned like a horse.
I really hope Scar isn't in love. I don't know how i can save her if she is. I've already lost half of Sloane, and no matter how much she tries to convince me and ignoring the smiling interested look, I don't believe Hayden is any different to Drew.