1. Charlie

Chapter 1

Charlie

My boyfriend is an ass.

Okay, correction. My ex - boyfriend . As of right now.

“You can’t be seriously breaking up with me, Charlie!” Andy roars, huffing and puffing like an overheating bull.

Which is impossible, considering this lovely part of our globe known as England rarely sees above twenty-three degrees Celsius. Or seventy-three-ish in Fahrenheit. So, technically, he couldn’t be overheating.

“I can and I am,” I correct him, crossing my arms over my chest and angling my body toward the front door of my London apartment. “Get your shit and fuck off.”

Andy gives me the nastiest scowl his handsome face can muster, flailing his bulging arms in exasperation. They are huge just like the rest of his 6’3” frame of pure muscle and strength. “You are out of your mind!”

Am I? Maybe to him. After all, how dare I refuse to hang out with his jock buddies so I can stay home and play video games? The sheer audacity.

“Don’t be a drama queen. Let’s handle this like the adults we are,” I say calmly. Yeah, I’ve had it with him.

He gapes at me, brown eyes livid and fuming. Alarm bells ring that maybe aggravating him wasn’t the smartest idea considering he’s twice my size and weight, but it’s a bit too late to take back what I’ve said. Besides, I don’t feel like looking for a more diplomatic approach to the end of our short-lived relationship.

Andy stalks over to me, banging his fist into the wall to the left. “Ungrateful prick,” he growls in his British accent, baring white teeth at me. Despite living here since an early age, I still don’t sound native. “Whatever. I’ve had it with your stupid nerd shit.” He scoffs, pointedly looking at my desktop setup behind the vintage armchair I got at a sale. “And the sex wasn’t even that great. Should’ve listened to the guys. They warned me not to deal with your type.”

I raise an eyebrow, pursing my lips. “Yeah? And what type am I , asshole?”

He shakes his head and steps back, giving me a dejected once-over. “Loser weirdo who lives in his little imaginary world instead of real life.”

I see red. How dare that idiot speak to me like that? If I wasn’t a twig compared to him, I’d have beaten the shit out of him by now. “Oh yeah? As if you didn’t benefit from the money this loser weirdo makes!”

“Not worth the bitchy attitude you’ve been giving me for the past month. Or the lack of sex.” Grabbing his suitcase from where I’ve diligently packed and prepared it for him by the dining table, he shoves his shoulder into me and storms out. “Don’t come crying to me to take you back. And good luck finding someone who’ll tolerate even half of your shit.”

Asshole. Bastard. Piece of shit. Waste of resources. I can’t believe I thought we could work.

I shouldn’t have ignored the red flags, that’s on me. His dumb chad friends, the constant drinking, the sharp quips about my gaming career, the going out and dragging me around like I’m some trophy boyfriend.

In my defense, in my twenty-two years so far, he was my first boyfriend. I met him at a bar that my friends, Trish and Greg, took me to after the stressful summer play-ins were over, and he was all smiles and flirtatious glances. It was love at first sight for me. My lonely heart wasted no time getting attached. We hooked up the second time we hung out, then began dating. Things were fine at first, but then he started trying to change me. To make me like him and his monkey-brained friends who only know how to drink, fuck and play football at a mediocre level.

I groan, sliding to the floor with my back pressed against the wall. I can’t believe I was such an idiot. I should’ve known it was too good to be true, that someone like him was just using a ‘weirdo’ like me. I’m aware that my interests and hobbies are a little unconventional to some people, but my brother, who’s living abroad, and my two best friends have never held them against me. They’ve always supported me, so am I really at fault for thinking that there is a person out there— my person —who’ll love me for who I am, like Trish and Greg love each other?

What - fucking - ever . My eyes have been opened and I’ll know better next time. Fairytale love and princes on white horses just don’t exist in the real world.

I huff air out of my nose, pull out my phone and glare at the door Andy didn’t even bother to close.

“Fuck you, asshat. I hope your dick falls off.”

I tap on my device’s screen to order a pizza. Since Andy won’t be around forcing me to eat his ‘healthy’ smoothies, I might as well start enjoying food again, right?

There’s nothing wrong with a healthy diet—I do like my veggies and I’ve never been obsessed with fast food—but the copious amounts of protein powder, pre-workout crap and fat-rich stuff that he consumes to upkeep his massive body can hardly be called that. Not to mention the energy drinks he’s forced to chug down every other day because he stays out partying all night and has to go to practice or lectures.

But really, part of me is grateful. I let myself believe in happily-ever-afters and I got burned for it. As much as it hurts now and makes me want to blow my savings on hiring someone to beat the shit of that sexy jock, I’m glad it happened sooner rather than later.

Lesson learned—no matter how hot or nice or perfect the next guy might seem, I won’t mistake his fleeting interest for love.

That rose-tinted fantasy I’ve been dreaming of just doesn’t exist.