𝐌𝐢 𝐃𝐢𝐨𝐬𝐚

𝟎𝟏

"Fuck, Malik," I groan into my hands, my black hair tickling my fingers. "Get the fuck out of this slump," I continue talking to myself. It doesn't help as I still feel as shitty as yesterday and the day before, and the day previous too. I could take my gun and shoot myself.

Talon, my bastard best friend, walks into my office with a donut in hand and a stack of cash. He does this every Friday. Invites me out, meets some woman, and leaves me to fuck her in his small ass car. It's the same for me majority of the time, except the women bore me back to a soft and my car isn't small.

"You already know what I'm going to say," Talon sits in the seat in front of me, his long legs resting on my desk. 

I lift my head from my hands before leaning back in my chair- my white dress shirt tightening as I cross my arms. The sleeves are pulled up to my elbows, showing my tatted arm sleeve on my right arm. The left one is almost bare, itching for me to put a needle and ink on its surface.

"Tattoos, clubs, and sex," I answer, my tone dry. Only two of the three are enjoyable to me.

"Tattoos, clubs, and good sex," Talon says, trying to emphasize my words.

He knows that my female companions aren't doing it for me anymore. We've been to numerous clubs, but it always ends the same. With my dick soft, and the woman embarrassed. He started to think I was gay until I knocked him with a bat for even thinking that idea. I didn't hit him because he thought I was gay, I hit him because he said I'd be the one taking it up the rear.

"Right," I crack my knuckles and neck to release the stress and pressure I felt on my body. Working the job we do almost day and night is fucking tiresome. Maybe a woman companion won't be so bad tonight. I smirk a little and stand up, Talon following my actions. "We're not getting in that tiny ass box."

"It's my baby, not a box!" Talon defends, ready to argue with me about his precious car.

"Yeah, okay" I walk pass him while ignoring his mumbles of protest.

We take the elevator in the now empty building, listening to the terrible music until we reach the bottom floor. Talon goes into a room before returning with a set of keys. It goes to one of my Rolls Royce. He picks it every time, you'd think he's trying to drop hints that he wants it.

"Are we skipping the tattoos? The club I have in mind is the livest around this hour," he breathes down my neck about this during the walk to my car. It would've been easy to just deck him and drag his unconscious body back to the building, but he'd give me shit for that once he woke up.

"Talon, shut the fuck up. Your voice gives me migraines."

He took that as a 'yes we'll skip the tattoos if you close your fucking mouth' which is exactly what I meant.

"You think you'll get laid?"

I knew he wouldn't stay quiet for long.

"I don't know," I sigh. "I'm stressed the fuck out, so maybe some sexual release will do something for me this time round."