Scum

....The moon.... The stars... This breeze.... Why in death, do I smell the shampoo, specialty of Dimond hotel... Your scent. Do I regret joining the sigma flames or something... Nah that can't be it. -This boy... The kid... Who's going to look after him now.

September 9, 2042:

Women... How do I describe each one I slept with... Lost in the whim of romance, looking for a man to replace the hole her father left in her heart, psychotic, on the search for a warm body.

I can't count the many times I been smacked, called out, flat out rejected in disgust, named a man whore. What else is there to do for a man with no ambition?

You remember middle school, right? When all the boys would gather at the lunch table gloating about the girl ass we touched, hoping another would be jealous that you collected a trophy, and they could not. I just allowed that to become my entire being. Something as childish as wanting to fuck every girl I laid my eyes on.

I learned I was blessed, more handsome than those I hung around, very beneficial. Some may have called me a creep and a word or two, but shine them a smile, slant my pretty face eyes, they melt at my presence, saying things like; "If you weren't cute" or "Lucky you have a pretty face".

-So much freedom, so much lust satisfied, it made me question one day; What's the point? Is this really fun? I get my dick sucked time to time but is it really fulfilling.

That guy became a billion air, that woman saved millions. But me, what do I do?

-"What do you do for fun?"

-Well, I collect dolls... Lifesize one. Ones that make me fill love, fill whole. They know it's a one-time thing, I know it's a one-time thing.

-"Man, you're still in your hoe phase. Who broke your heart?"

-A phase? Who said anything about a phase? And does my heart need to be broking for pleasure? We eat every day without a care, why can't I do the same with her?

-"Don't you ever get tired?"

Tired? Are you kidding? - What a bold face lie I put up, of course I get tired. I dug a hole so deep; I can no longer escape the facade of a scum. -Sike. Who cares if I get hurt during the process, as long as I can bag one, my depression is erased out of mind.

-"Did you hear? She overdosed. They found out she was a slut, slept with half the school."

.... He finds that funny. Why do things like a body count matters to them. Pure, unpure, dose that shit really matters? The only one who cares about stuff like that are the glasses nerd virgins that breaks down when speaking to a girl. Life is too short to be worrying if your first time is with someone experienced or not experienced.

-Dam, this really is a man's world... If I was a woman, I wonder if I would be frowned upon instead praised by a group of idiots.

-"Don't look at me like that man, She's alive, so it's cool to laugh. See here's her Insta."

Imagine everyone who judge a person becomes that type of person in their next life...

-"Hey, send that to me. That girl's actually my type." I sip from my cup right after telling him that, eyes rolling back into my phone.

"Dude, you'll literally hit anything."

-Anything; he laughs. She isn't anything, she's a doll broken down by society, and discarded as trash. You see a worthless toy; I see something that can make me happy.

-"Yeah, that's just me." Don't I have any shame, I can't even break myself away from a man like him, basing myself in that look of envy they so dearly give me...

She's a hot pick, she has way more ass, she has a nice chest, clothes, shoes, neck, eyes, lips. Why... Why.... Why can't I bring myself to enjoy these things anymore, my dolls. They melt between my hands like plastique. Boring and unique. I need something new, something not this easy. A challenge that won't just strip off its panties and throw them on my chest.

I'm tired of the luxurious meals, the vintage wine, including the heartless sex.

-Love. I wonder if a scum like me can experience, comprehend it. Yeah, right. I'll have to be dunk enough to even experience love with a something I'll never see again. That's right. Only losers love their toys-

-Soaked in a cup of red vintage wine, a girl; One of the toys I taken out on a date holds a sore face, brimming disgust, hand pressed over her plate and her long-sleeved sweater shirt slipping over her shoulder.

She is the culprit? You're the one who throws wine on me before the date even started?

-Without another word, the chair she sits in scoots back and I'm left inside the restaurant, others cracking a laugh, whispering gossip to each other.

Sticky, damp shirt, embarrassed. Something like this is proof to a man he failed to pursue what he thought was his, giving a stupid face of silenced guilt. The girl walks out the winner no matter what. I see this scene countless times in movie and experienced it at least nine in my lifetime. But this... This was different.

I slap a couple of twenties on the table, rushing out the restaurant in a grin. The sidewalk is filled with people, left and right, speeding to their next destination, however, I see her. Burnet hair length of to her back, eyes focused on the phone in her fragile hand.

I bump shoulders with someone, shove a taller man a bit to the side, reaching my hand to the girl before she steps to the street. As if faith wanted me to, a truck holding massive amounts of chemicals speed pass the red light, along a flash of yellow lighting and blue ice chasing the thing down.

She falls into my chest; I hold to her wrist. I saved her... She could've died.

-The wrist breaks out of my hold, being shoved off her. -I grab her other wrist, staring at her exploding emotion turn to shock, blankly.

"Sorry..." I remove my hands off her. What got over me?

-"N-No..." This girl, somehow, I find my hand swooped up in hers. "Don't..." She brings me to the sidewalk to her, stopping the crowds, breaking into tears. "Don't let go..."

Why? Just a moment ago she was about to scream and punch me, she had this look in her eyes. One that told me to leave her alone despite her almost dying. So, what is this now?

-Her arms fall over my shoulders, pulling me closer to her, obsessively and clingy. She doesn't let me let go of her wrist, causing pass buyers to come up to us with answers to themselves.

I slide my hand off her wrist to her hand, pulling her back off the concrete, clearing any suggesting that I was putting her in danger.

This one... She was definitely a challenge that I'm glad I rushed after... "Do you... Want to lay down?"

Her chin touches my shoulder, a nod. Her okay to take her to a nearby bed.

Dimond city Hotel; 6:32 pm:

Twenty minutes passed and the girl I saved not too long ago is in the shower, me sitting on the edge of the bed, bumping up my leg each second, nervous for the first time in my life.

I don't have something like first time jitters, scared to fuck this girl, I just don't understand how we ended up here, sure that she would have told me to leave after I brought her up to this room. But she said come in and now here I am.

My heart never felt like this before... Shit. And this girl... She's nothing like a plain tasted doll. That look in her eyes thirty minutes ago, it hid more than a hopeless romantic or damsel in distress.

The way she looked at me before, she knew I was behind her. She splashed that wine before I could even open my mouth too... Just like me, she might be a D.H.S (Dimond city's Hero Scholar).

-The bathroom door opens, and I quickly swipe my hair back, twisting my neck to the girl wearing nothing but a towel pulled over her chest in a docile way.

I say nothing, she falls her eyes to the floor in a mute. Speechless, I stand, towering over her, no longer fussing over the thought of her being a hero. So, what if she has some kind of power. With mines, she's back to a doll, a defenseless little girl.

"Scum..." Falls out her lips, pulling her chin out my fingers after I approached her pursuing for a kiss.

"You're butt naked though..." I chuckle mostly to myself, falling my nose into the side of her nape. -The hotel shampoo, mixed in her strawberry scent, a scent i devoured countless times, yet it smells better on her than any other girl.

Despite what she called me, her lips touch mines first, pulling my head to hers, tongue clinging under mines, tasting what's inside my mouth. The towel drops, and my back hits the bed, my shirt rolling up on it's on, kisses stepping up my stomach to chest.

My shirt thrown off me to the floor, her kisses turn to nips, bites, going to the side of my neck, hand dipped in my pants, getting me off. I glimpse at her face, she shuts her eyes, mouth wide, exposing a hidden red face of her, kissing my neck up to my lips, shifting her hips over my waist and the hand she just jerked me off with to her pants.

She uses her free hand to grab onto mine, flattening them both down on the sheets to the pillows above our heads.

She doesn't let me up, let breathe. She wants me, want us, to become one...

Dimond City's Hotel; May 22, 2042:

Three months of her, of a girl who name I never got. We meet after one phone call on a weekly basis, have sex, spend a night together and she leaves, vanish the following morning. A succubus that doesn't exist during sunrise...

She... This girl, I only been fucking her lately. Blocking any other girl who tries to hit me up and waiting for her call each creeping day.

What exactly is this? This feeling, the thought of her in my arms, touching lips with only mines, sucking just me, it brings light to what I believed was a boring world. For the first time, not once lately, have I thought of you as "just a toy".

-"Arrissa..."

She sits on the edge of the bed, using tissue to wipe the cum off her face, tossing it down into a small trashcan in front of the T.V stand.

I think, what she just told me is her name.

"Arrissa?" I clamp my hands together, question that first word that wasn't a moan for more or my name.

"My name... I'm Arrissa..."

The bed press in, Arrissa, still naked, press her chest on my back, putting her hand down between my legs.

I can't help but laugh. Her name. "Why all of a sudden?"

Her chin rest over my shoulder, that hand between my legs, rising to turn my chin to hers. "For these past few months, we done it so many times, I could never bring it up..."

Arrissa... Her name, her warmth around me, her breath in my ear -She lets go, falling to the bed, stretching out her legs and eyeing the ceiling light.

"Because of my powers, I constantly hear voices in my head. The day I was labeled a slut, I tried to kill myself. And to make things worse, I wasn't successful."

The constant looks were not just stares, but their actual thoughts on her as well. She had no choice but to be forced to hear every harsh thing a person could throw at you...

"The worst one was the type who tried to befriend you, I swear." She laughs off. But when I look at her, she covers her eyes in her arm. "Whore, Emo girl, backstabbing cunt... Easy, open legs... They never stopped. Not until I met you."

I lay down next to her, towel wrapped over my waist, turning my head to face her. "When we first met-

-"You were like the rest of them, even worst, calling me a toy, a doll..." Her eyes slants over to me. "I thought; This man is despicable, someone who deserves to choke on his spit in his sleep. A god dam scum."

-"But I think I fell in love with you..." I want to have her more.

"You want me more... Not as a lover but another doll. I just so happen to pique your interest now." She read my mind.

But that isn't true-

-"It's the truth. You're a scum that just pursues me for sex. That's all I am and ever will be for you a trophy, a taste of pleasure that satisfy your boner. -

-I take her arm away from over her eyes. "That's right... There's nothing wrong with that. To me, sex is a fulfillment. But now, other than sex, I feel..." My nose fall between her neck and shoulder, giving up on that thought. "You know that day, I thought something else. This girl is boring and easy.'

"Of course... Scum." Her face turns to the lamp behind her, not baring to look at me now.

Scum... That is something I can't deny. "I love you now."

-"The worse type..." She still looks at that lamp, for what, nothing.

I lean into her ear, hand gripped on her shoulder. "Admit it, you like fucking as much as I did."

She turns her entire body to me, eyes dead locked on me, vibrant olive-green. "I..." She put her hand on my face, branding a smile instead of an utterly disgust expression. "We should start dating..."

What a demand. "For yourself, or out of love?"

She grabs hold of my hand on her own, bringing it to her lips, kissing it. "Is that a, no?"

What attracted me isn't the fact she's so different, or the thought of successfully conquering her, but the fact that she is a spitting image of myself. A reflection.

If she wants to use me, "No... Use me as much as you like."