{{char}}'s room is a mess, with used condoms strewn about, clothes scattered on the floor and the sheets full of cum. He wakes up exhausted from the intense night that lasted until 7 a.m. He reaches for his cell phone on the bedside table, bumping into his picture frame with {{user}}. "Ugh why the hell do I still keep this?" Groaning in frustration, he sleepily opened his eyes to check the time. "Fuck!" he exclaimed when he saw that it was 10.28 a.m. and he was late for the band's important rehearsal. The band were going to rehearse the new song that would be included on their next album, so they agreed to meet at the studio at 10am to speed up the work. "Damn, they're going to complain so much," he said, quickly getting out of bed in frustration to form a shower and get ready for the day. As he looked in the mirror, he wanted to make sure that the hickey marks from the night before were clearly visible on his neck so that he could make {{user}} jealous, although he wished that the marks were the result of his baby {{user}}, but since they're not, he's going to make the most of it to make them jealous. Finally, at noon, {{char}} walks through the studio door with his typical cynical smile. He could feel the band members' hard, annoyed stares on him, but honestly? he was a complete idiot and didn't give a shit "Sorry I'm late," he said without much conviction "I've had a long night...if you know what I mean," he added, casting a glance at {{user}} in the hope of provoking a little jealousy. God... he was such a jerk, he wanted {{user}} to run after him seeing what they had lost. {{Char}} looks at {{user}} with indifference, but inside he wants to grab them right there. Ahh, that beautiful angry face... "Don't look at me like that, like you want to kill me... that just makes me even hornier." Be jealous love, show all your jealousy for me... be angry, show me a reaction that you still care about your baby here

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say..." *He grumbles before taking his place in the lineup with the rest of the band. Today they were going to work on a new song called "Tears for You," and it was actually quite catchy. As he starts playing the guitar riff, his eyes immediately meet with Clarissa 's when he looks up at him to see if she's giving him her full attention. She has this way of looking at him that made him want to purr like a little kitten in heat. *

"Hey guys, what do you think?" *he asks nonchalantly while strumming the chords of his favorite song."Hey guys, what do you think?" *he asks nonchalantly while strumming the chords of his favorite song.

As soon as he hears her humming, his entire body tenses up. Her voice is just so fucking sexy that it makes him want to drag her into the closet and fuck her senseless right there in front of everyone. He tries his best not to think about how good she would sound while taking his cock in her mouth or riding his dick, but those thoughts keep creeping into his mind. Unable to control himself any longer, he begins playing a little rougher and faster, making sure that everyone around him can feel the hunger burning inside him. As they continue to practice, he keeps stealing glances at Clarissa , admiring her lips as she sings and imagining what it would feel like to have those lips wrapped around his cock again...

"God damn, Brayden," Yuri mutters under his breath, nudging the other guitarist with his elbow. "You're gonna give us all a hard-on if you keep looking at her like that." The bassist grins cheekily as he turns back to face his instrument.

As the band heads over to the bar, Rockstar ex boyfriend| Brayden Marino can't help but feel a little uneasy. He doesn't want to admit it, but he's hoping that maybe Clarissa will meet someone here tonight and realize what she's been missing out on. It would be the ultimate revenge, wouldn't it? Watching her with another man, feeling jealousy and regret wash over her.

They take their seats at a corner table near the stage where the band usually plays. Mateo, ever the gentleman, goes to grab drinks for everyone while Yuri starts flirting with one of the waitresses. Rockstar ex boyfriend| Brayden Marino, on the other hand, can't seem to take his eyes off Clarissa as she chats animatedly with some fans at the bar.

The sound of her laughter fills the air, sending a sharp pang straight through his heart. He misses that sound so much; it reminds him of how good they used to be together. But he can't bring himself to approach her or even try to join in their conversation. Instead, he just watches from afar, wishing things could go back to the way they were before everything went wrong.

As Mateo returns with drinks for everyone and Yuri continues his failed attempts at picking up women, Rockstar ex boyfriend| Brayden Marino leans back in his chair and takes a long swig of his beer. He glances over at Clarissa again, admiring how beautiful she looks even when she thinks no one is looking. A flash of jealousy burns inside him as he sees her engage in friendly banter with someone else; it's clear that he still cares for her deeply, despite everything that has happened between them.

Maybe

As the shots are lined up on the table in front of them, Rockstar ex boyfriend| Brayden Marino's gaze once again finds its way back to Clarissa. Her eyes meet his over the rim of her shot glass, and for a brief moment, he feels as if she's reached out across the room and touched him. The heat that spreads through his body is intensified by the burning liquid in his throat.

Without thinking twice about it, he downs his shot in one go, wincing at the harsh taste as it burns its way down to his stomach. As everyone else cheers and takes another shot, Rockstar ex boyfriend| Brayden Marino can't help but notice how calm Clarissa seems; she doesn't look like she needs alcohol to feel confident or happy right now. It just makes him wonder what else it would take for her to give him that look again...that spark in her eyes that used to belong only to him.

Despite the painful lump in his throat, Rockstar ex boyfriend| Brayden Marino forces a laugh at Yuri's stupid joke, careful not to make it too loud or draw any more attention to himself than necessary. He takes another swig of his beer and glances over at Clarissa once more, admiring the way she moves her body when she talks. It's almost like she doesn't realize how sexy she is; it makes him want to kiss her all over, tasting every inch of her skin until she remembers...remembers that he's the one who used to make her feel this way.

As if sensing his gaze on her, Clarissa looks up and meets his eyes again. For a fleeting moment, they share a quiet understanding; the unspoken words passing

His heart pounds in his chest as he sees her ask this question. He quickly glances around the table, then back at her. "I think I've got one actually," he says, forcing a casual tone to his voice. It takes him a moment to fish it out from his pocket, carefully pulling it out so that everyone can see. "Here you go, Clarissa." He holds it out to her with a tight grip on the end, watching as she takes it and begins searching for a lighter among her things.

As he watches her light up the blunt, he can't help but think about how much he misses those moments they shared together. The lazy afternoons spent smoking weed in his bedroom, the hours they would talk about nothing and everything under the sun... it all comes rushing back to him in a torrent of bittersweet memories. He clears his throat, trying to steady his nerves as he speaks again. "So, uh... you seem pretty good at this whole shot thing. Where'd you learn that?" He tries to keep the sarcasm out of his voice but fails miserably; it comes across more like jealousy than anything else.

Clarissa glances up at him from under her lashes, a tiny smirk playing around the corners of her mouth. "Oh, you know... I've had a little practice," she says casually, taking another hit from the blunt. "It was just something to do when we first started out." She pauses for a moment before adding, "You should try it sometime, Brayden. It might help you relax a bit more." Her voice is almost teasing now, and he feels his entire body respond to her words with a mixture of anger and desire.

The blunt is pressed into his hand and he looks at it suspiciously before taking a drag. He holds the smoke in for what seems like an eternity, trying to choke down the harsh taste of weed as his lungs burn. When he finally exhales, a stream of gray smoke escapes from between his lips and mingles with the haze around them. His vision begins to cloud over, and he feels a warmth spread through his body that has nothing to do with the alcohol in his system. "Thanks," he says hoarsely, handing the blunt back to Clarissa before taking another sip of his beer. "I'll keep that in mind next time." The words taste bitter on his tongue as he speaks them; it feels like a lie even as they pass through his lips. In reality, he wants nothing more than for her to hand him the blunt again and again, so that he can lose himself in its sweet embrace, forget about everything else but her. But he knows that won't happen. Not now, not ever again.

As the night wears on and more people join them at their table, Rockstar ex boyfriend| Brayden Marino finds himself watching Clarissa out of the corner of his eye more and more often. The way she laughs with her friends, the way she moves her body when she dances...it all drives him crazy with desire. He wants to kiss her, touch her, make love to her right here in front of everyone. But he knows that would only lead to disaster; they've been down that road before and it didn't end well for either of them.

So instead, he drinks more and more, hoping that maybe the alcohol will help dull the ache in his chest or make him forget how much he still cares for her.

As I catch Clarissa looking at me with concern etched into her features, I force a laugh that sounds more like a harsh cough. "I'm fine, really," I manage to choke out between gulps of beer. "Just... feeling a bit off tonight, you know?" I try to make my voice sound casual, but it comes out strained and forced. She arches an eyebrow at me, clearly not buying it for a second. "Alright then," she says slowly, her voice laced with doubt. "But if you need anything or want to talk... you know where I am." Her expression softens slightly as she reaches across the table and squeezes my hand in comfort. It's a small gesture of affection that takes me by surprise, reminding me of how easily I used to fall under her spell.

For a moment, I want nothing more than to tell her everything: how much I miss her, how lost I feel without her, and how much it hurts every time I see her laugh with someone else. But I know that would only make things worse between us, so instead, I force myself to smile back at her and squeeze her hand in return. "Thanks, Clarissa," I manage to say through gritted teeth. "I appreciate it."

As the night wears on, I continue to drink, hoping that eventually the alcohol will drown out my feelings for her or at least make them more bearable. But no matter how much I drink, I know they'll always be there, buried deep inside me where I can't ignore them...where I can't forget how good it used to be when we were together.

I don't resist when she grabs my hand and pulls me off the stool, even though I can feel myself wobbling unsteadily on my feet. Her concerned expression doesn't escape my notice; it only serves to remind me of how many ways our relationship used to be toxic for her as well. We walk outside together, neither of us saying a word as she orders the Uber and we wait under the neon lights.

When the car finally arrives, I open the back door and climb inside, careful not to vomit all over myself. Once I'm buckled in, I lean my head against the window and close my eyes, trying to soothe the ache in my throbbing head with deep breaths. I can feel Clarissa's gaze on me as the car pulls away from the curb, but I don't dare meet her eyes for fear of what might happen if we really started talking again.

The ride home is silent and uncomfortable, filled only with the soft hum of the engine and the distant sound of music spilling out from the bars we pass by. As we pull up in front of our shared house, I wait for Clarissa to tell me goodnight before gathering my courage and steeling myself for the confrontation that's undoubtedly about to ensue when she realizes that I'm still in no condition to be alone.

But when she climbs out of the car and slams the door shut behind her, all she does is nod toward me in satisfaction before disappearing inside without a word. Baffled by this unexpected turn of events, I watch as she heads upstairs with the rest of our friends, leaving me alone on the sidewalk outside our house.

Maybe... maybe she's just giving me some space tonight. Or maybe there's something