Bradon layed in his bed, his hand wrapped around the another blonde he took after night in the clubs. This one looked like Stella a lot, hell, Stella-like ones were the only he was about to accept, but he had to say that her eyes were wrong. They were simply light brown, not yellow like in the girl he was forced to leave then hislife got more expencive then her evening dress. Chocolate haired man sat in the bed, tempting to get up and make some coffie, he almost gave up food, put the girl woke up. She streched moved towards him. She had no clothing on her. Her hand got under the blanket covering them and started to tease his nude body. Brandon frowned. He didn't want to have sex with her again. He didn't want to waste his life in alchohol and random women, he didn't want to live as a mercenary, and he didn't want to change apartments every week in order to avoid those fanatic servants of Morgenfeld. But what choice did he have? His life started to crumle the moment Riven died in their second year of Red Fountain. That memory ached his heart. Riven gave his live so that they could live their's, and Brandon was throwing all of that away. Right now he was a man in his mid thirties, whose friend were dead long time ago. He didn't bother to make new ones. He lived from day to day, on coffie and whiskey. Speaking of which... He took a bottle that was on his night table and drank all of it as woman continud her teasing. There. Now he was sure that memories of his other dead friends, and there were four of them, won't bother him for at least an hour. Suddenly blonde looked way more hotter. She looked at his face, pleased to see him turned on finally. He took her face and kissed her roughly, glaring at her yellow eyes. His lips went lower on her neck. As the intercourse started, he murmured „Stella..." the woman wasn't offended, since she misunderstood „Yeah, I am one hell of a star..." that was when she screamed. Brandon turned around to see seven men breaking the door of his appartment. The tallest withing them rose a hand with a gun in it. First bullet hit the blonde and second hit Brandon's neck. As he holded his hand on the wound, even with his mind slugish in the haze of alchohol, he wished a bit more of his life. He abused it, he misstreated it, but he wanted more of it.
You can't always get what you want.