Deethewriter Presents: My New Story - The Pranksters

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The Pranksters are a group of people named The Devil's Home. It is inspired by Boys Over Flowers and The Heirs.

 Adam Steele's Point of View

Pounding  music  from the club filled the space, and I could feel the deep bass beat through my entire body. I never understood the desire to play music at volumes that made one's heart throb, but it was a good distraction from  my own thoughts.

The bar was filled with clapping and cheering as I took another shot of tequila.

I was so screwed. My head was aching, my mouth was dry, and I smelt of alcohol. One thought floated inside my head. It was official, I screwed up.

My dad's lecture replayed itself in my mind. I knew he wanted a better kid, someone who got good grades and didn't flirt with a  different girl every second. He wanted someone who he will be proud of, a smile would automatically form onto his face whenever he'd talk about his son. Unfortunately, he had me and gets angry whenever someone mentions 'Adam Steele'.

"Baby? Are you okay?" The girl's voice who I could not remember broke me out of my thoughts. I simply shook my head and smiled at her as she continued kissing my jaw.

"Just thinking about how hot you are." I lied, the girl smirked as she continued her journey, probably thinking of how hot I am, and how lucky she is to be with someone this hot.

I know I'm hot, and I'm definitely not going to hide under my bed and wonder about the girls' opinion of me. 

Girls love hot boys. Girls love rich boys. Girls love The Devil's Home. Girls love The Pranksters. Girls love someone with a mysterious personality, someone who they would want  to figure out like a riddle or even a puzzle. And that person is definitely me.

I was complicated to some people in a mixed up way. I had everything yet I felt like I had nothing.  I sometimes felt distant from my pranksters' squad, when we're not busy pranking people or kissing around, we drink our sorrows away with shots of vodka. They knew every single thing about me, except for my dad's hatred to me  and our continuous fights.

The girl continued kissing me as she tried to unzip my pants. I'm honestly not in the mood, I just need to get my mind off things.

Shaking my head, I tried to get off the bed, "I'm honestly not in the mood. I thought it was just making out."

The redhead pouted.  "We can continue making out," she commented, licking her lips seductively. 

"I lost my appetite."

"You can prank me all you want, you know." she added, a small smirk forming onto her lips. "You're rich, hot, and extremely mysterious. And I'm definitely your type. "

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

"I like your body, you're so fit." The blonde smirked as she rubbed her hands onto my biceps. I honestly don't know what the hell is she doing, but right know I don't care.

"I like my body too."

When she realised she wasn't going anywhere with the small flirting, she left as a sigh of relief escaped from my mouth.

Oh shit.

"Wait," I called out, but it was too far to hear.

A groan escaped, I had to use plan b.

"Hello smokin' chicken," I cringed at my failed attempt in flirting at my drunken state.

"Hey?" The blonde responded, almost breathless. Breathless? Oh right, she's never seen me before.

"Roses are red, violets are blue, your ass is on fire, can you drive me home?"

The blonde just squeezed my cheeks as she giggled, "I definitely will."

As I arrived home, the blonde's dreamy stares were still wild and very cringy. I couldn't help but imagine my mates' reaction on what I was about to say next.

"Sidenote: My mum told me not to talk to strangers, but I broke the rule just for you. Plus I have chicken pox on my legs. They're very ugly, it's such a turn off, trust me. My mum is an English teacher, she'd put me in the naughty corner and so will Santa. Is that what you want? "

The blonde seemed to believe the chicken pox part and stared at me in horror.

I added, "Oh, how bad of me. Do you want to come in?"

The dreamy stare was now replaced with a scary one. Yuck. I'm cringing so bad, I need a cringe doctor.

"WHERE IN HELL WERE YOU?" was the first thing I was welcomed to.

"I don't believe hell has many directions, but whatever makes you sleep at night. In fact, I need to sleep."

"You know it's for you benefit, I'm trying to get you to stop drinking and playing around. You're ruining your future, Adam. What happens when I die? What will happen to you? Did you ever stop and think about this for a second?" Dad's eyes soften a bit when he saw my drunken state, Lalala, I'm not listening, I'm not listening.

"Dad, I get it. I'm so tired of this conversation, we have it almost everyday. Is that a pimple? Dad you have pimple! And so many white hair, wait let me count."  My voice was laced with poorly controlled humour as I tried to examine his new pimple.

Dad was insecure about his hair, he hated the fact that he was growing, and I, of course, used it against him in every single bad way.

"You can sleep now. We'll talk tomorrow."

"Hey, dad."

"Mm?"

"Can I marry grandma? It's only fair since you've married my mum."

Dad only chuckled at my question and told me to go back to sleep. giggled as I kissed his cheek. "You know I love you, don't tell Adam that, he'll kill me. " I said in a low whisper.

He just laughed as he patted my shoulder. "I won't. I love you too. Don't tell Adam that."

Like father like son. Hey wait, don't tell Adam!

***********

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