The Liberated

He was absolutely gorgeous.
But in no way was it love at first sight, because behind him trailed the scent of arrogance and a rep sheet a mile long.
He was the epitome of bad boy – promiscuous, smoking and a party boy. He always made his presence know when entering a room, commonly by shouting or otherwise making ruckus. He was overly confidant, rude, and treated girls as though they were simply disposable waste.
Though I’d never met him personally, I knew all about his many – and slightly disgraceful – conquests. People made no effort to hide the fact that they were talking about him, weather he’s near or not. He wasn’t one of the people you gossiped about in hushed tones to only your closest confidents. He would proudly share his own weekend occurrences, weather they showed him in a good light or bad. And nobody questioned him, or laughed at him, because he was simply too confident for that.
Mostly, people adored him. And why not? He has stories to tell, girls following him left, right and center, and always knows the best parties. It’s basically animal instinct, to want to follow the person that carries themselves with the most self-assurance.

But, off to the corner, away from where he holds court every day, there is a group of people, brought together by him. Angry ex-girlfriends, who expected more that a one night stand, boys who’s secrets were foolishly confided in him and revealed to the world, and of course myself. I’ve never spoken to him, and I’ve never harbored love for him and I’ve most definitely never confided secrets to him. I’ve just never fallen under his spell, for no apparent reason.
We are the Liberated, meaning we are not under his curse, and we are here to take revenge.