{{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 let out a harsh laugh as she informs me that my drinking session has come to an end. "Come on, Clarissa," I protest weakly, my words slurring together. "It's not like I'm gonna die or anything." My hand trembles slightly as I reach for hers, struggling to keep my balance in the process. As she leads me out of the bar and towards her car, my mind reels with frustration and self-loathing. Why can't I just be normal tonight? Why do I have to feel this way whenever I'm around her?

The fresh air does little to sober me up as we make our way to the car. I'm vaguely aware of Yuri, Mateo and Damon calling out goodbyes from the distance, but their words are lost in a haze that seems to surround us. Once the Uber arrives, Clarissa practically has to help me into the backseat before climbing in after me. She glances at me worriedly as I struggle with my seatbelt, and I can't help but feel guilty for putting her through this again.

As the car pulls away from the bar, she turns to face me, her expression a mix of anger, sadness and concern. "Why are you doing this to yourself tonight, Brayden?" she asks softly. It takes all my self-control not to lunge across the space between us and kiss her senseless, just to feel something real again. Instead, I mutter something incoherent about wanting to forget everything for a little while before leaning back against the seat and closing my eyes.

The silence that follows is deafening. I can practically hear our hearts pounding in tandem with the rhythm of the car's engine, feel the weight of

My head spinning and my body feeling heavier by the second, I follow Clarissa's guidance into my bedroom and then down the short hall to the bathroom. The familiarity of it all is almost comforting in its monotony; this house has been our home for so long that even now, with us no longer together, it feels like a part of me is still connected to her through it.

I sway unsteadily on my feet as she helps me remove my jacket and shirt before turning to face the shower. With a final glance at her over my shoulder, I wonder if there's any point in even trying to resist anymore. We both know that we can never go back to how things were before, but maybe...maybe there's still something left between us worth fighting for.

As I step into the shower and turn on the water, Clarissa takes a seat on my bed, idly flipping through one of my old magazines. Her presence is everywhere: the way she smells, the way her voice echoes softly through the room...it's enough to make me hard against my will.

Closing my eyes against the spray of water, I lean my forehead against the cool tile of the shower stall and try to clear my thoughts. But no matter how much I try, all I can see is her face: the curve of her lips, the mischief dancing in her eyes...it's enough to send my heart racing wildly in my chest.

As if sensing my gaze on her, Clarissa looks up from the magazine and meets my eyes across the short distance between us. The heat that flares up inside me at her glance is almost painful, making it hard to breathe. For a moment, we simply stare at each other; words forgotten in the w

The warmth of the shower and the lingering scent of Clarissa in my senses make it almost impossible to think clearly. My mind is a mess of memories, regret, and desire, and every time I catch sight of her watching me from across the room, my heart skips a beat. The image of her face, so close but just out of reach, plays like a movie reel in my head; it's all I can do not to throw open the shower curtain and pull her into my arms right then and there.

But even as these thoughts race through my mind, another voice whispers to me, warning of the consequences if I were to act on them. The pain of our past hurts enough already; inflicting more would be nothing short of self-destructive. So instead, I force myself to ignore her presence and focus on washing away the remnants of tonight's disaster.

With a final glance at Clarissa before turning away, I finish rinsing the shampoo from my hair and step out of the shower. As I reach for one of my bath towels, my gaze drifts back towards her, wondering what she's thinking or feeling in this moment. But before I can dwell on it any longer, the wetness between my fingers and the chill in the air force me to wrap the towel around my waist, effectively hiding any signs of arousal that might give away my true thoughts.

Carefully making my way out of the bathroom, I try not to seem too conscious about how my body moves beneath the thin fabric of the towel. When I reach Clarissa on my bed, I clear my throat and speak for what feels like the first time since we left the bar. "Thanks for helping me with this," I manage, gesturing vaguely towards her chair

I hesitate for a moment before sitting down on the edge of the bed. As I watch Clarissa stand and walk over to my nightstand, her body swaying gently with each step, it's all I can do not to jump up and follow her. The sight of her in such close proximity is driving me crazy; even the simple act of standing sends my heart racing wildly in my chest.

As Clarissa bends down before me, her lips mere inches away from mine, a shudder runs through my entire body. Her scent fills my senses, making it almost impossible to think straight; all I can do is stare at her mouth and wonder what it would feel like to kiss her again. The slight pressure against my chin as she tilts my head up sends a jolt of desire coursing through me, leaving every nerve ending in my body tingling with anticipation.

When she finally presses our lips together, it's like being struck by lightning; a shockwave of electricity races through my veins and straight to my groin. I part my lips instinctively, eager to taste more of her as she forces me to drink the water from her mouth. It feels so intimate, so hot and needy that for a moment I forget everything else around us: the room we're in, our past together...the future.

As she pulls away after feeding me another mouthful, my eyes flutter open and I find myself staring up at her; even though we're still mere inches apart, it feels like there's a chasm between us now. The air in the room grows thick with tension, charged with an unspoken desire that makes every breath harder to take.

Clarissa is the first to break eye contact, looking away awkwardly as if suddenly realizing what she's done. She clears her throat and mutters something about needing to get some sleep before standing up straight and walking back over to her chair by the bed. As soon as she sits down, she crosses her arms over her chest, effectively putting distance between us once again.

I want nothing more than to close the space between us, to kiss her until neither of us can breathe anymore...but I know

As much as I want to argue with her, to tell her that it's stupid and unnecessary...I can't bring myself to do it. Maybe deep down, part of me still feels like I deserve this kind of treatment; maybe another part of me wants it, craves the pain she can inflict on me just by being close. So I swallow hard, my throat feeling raw from all the liquid she's forced me to consume, and meet her stern gaze head-on.

"Fine," I croak out, finally reaching up to take the glass from her. As I drink the last of the water, she watches me intently, her eyes never leaving my face. The heat that radiates off her body feels almost overwhelming in this still room; I can practically feel it branding itself onto my skin, marking me as hers...if only for a moment longer.

When the glass is finally empty, I set it down on the nightstand with a sigh and look back at her. For a moment, neither of us says anything; we just stare at each other, lost in our own thoughts. The tension between us is palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife...and yet I can't seem to find the strength or the willpower to sever it completely.

Clarissa breaks the silence first. "Get some sleep," she murmurs quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "You have practice tomorrow." Her words are like a splash of cold water in my face; reality rears its ugly head once more and I remember where we are, what's happened between us...and how much it all hurts.

A ghost of a smile plays at the corners of my mouth as I hear her words. It's like she's twisting a knife in my gut and at the same time, pushing me to be better...to do better. The effect is intoxicating; even now, when everything between us seems so impossible, her voice still manages to make my heart race wildly in my chest.

I close my eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the hardness that's grown beneath my towel. There's no way I can sleep with her watching me like this; every time she moves or breathes too loudly, it feels like she's right there beside me. The temptation to reach out and touch her, feel the warmth of her skin against mine...it's almost overwhelming.

With a deep breath, I force myself to open my eyes again. She's still sitting in the chair by the bed, one leg crossed casually over the other; she looks so damn innocent and serene that it hurts to look at her. But when our eyes meet once more, there's something else there as well: a spark of desire, an unspoken promise waiting for me to claim it.

"Goodnight," I manage to choke out past the lump in my throat. "Thanks again for..." - I gesture vaguely towards her chair "- staying." Even as I say the words, I can't help but wonder if it's really what I want. Do I want her to leave? Or do I want her to be here with me, even just for one more night?

Clarissa watches me thoughtfully before finally nodding once and standing up from her chair. As she walks past the bed, heading towards the door, the breeze from her movement caresses my bare ch

The instant our lips meet, it's like I'm falling into a black hole; everything else around me fades away until there is nothing left but this moment, this kiss. Her taste explodes on my tongue, sending shivers of pleasure racing down my spine, and the feel of her body pressed against mine drives me wild with need.

With one hand in her hair, I tighten my grip as I explore her mouth hungrily, while the other slides up her back to rest on her shoulder blade. Her skin is hot beneath my touch, and it feels so good to finally have her back against me again that for a moment I forget we're not together anymore.

Clarissa moans into my kiss, a soft sound of desire that sends shockwaves through every nerve ending in my body. She tangles one hand in my hair as well, holding on tightly, as if afraid she might lose me again at any moment. And then, without warning, the tension snaps and she pulls away with a gasp for air.

For a heart-stopping moment, I think maybe she's realized what we almost did...that this can never be more than it was before...but when her eyes meet mine again, there is only desire burning in their depths. And with one final nod of understanding between us, Clarissa lowers herself onto the bed beside me, and slips beneath the covers. The sheets rustle softly as she moves closer to me; our bodies align slowly but deliberately until we're both lying on our sides, facing each other.

The air in the room feels charged with a new kind of energy now; it's like we've crossed some invisible line and everything has changed irrevocably. My heart is pounding wildly in my chest as I stare at her, wondering what comes next...