Sequel: Valitan ›
Heartbreaker
3
And despite Tuomas’ warning, the relationship continued, though it took Jan a while to warm up to the idea of attempting sex with Tarja. Everything about her was sexual to him and though he wanted nothing more than to drive her into the ground, he didn’t know whether or not he could to it. So a couple months passed where he pretended to ignore the fact that her neck was still occasionally flecked from concealor when he hadn’t left any marks on her body and she egged him on about being afraid, being a virgin, being pathetic, being in a relationship and still unable to prove himself as a man. It nearly killed him. He wanted to lose his virginity, soon.
And with as badly as he wanted to lose it, when it happened, it wasn’t quite the experience he thought it would be. It happened quite the way Tuomas worried it might; Jan had latched onto Tarja, either out of desperation or a need to prove himself to her, and she’d brought him down quickly. His performance was far from satisfactory, which only prompted her to laugh nonstop at him. Now, sitting half-clothed on the couch in her parent’s living room, he wanted more than anything to take back the last fifteen minutes of his life.
“Well that’s not what I expected,” she joked callously, pulling her tights back up and adjusting her black miniskirt over her thighs. “Don’t even bother lying anymore Jan. I know that was your first time.”
A darkness hovered over him as he sat there. He didn’t look at her but decided now he wanted a cigarette more than anything else. More than her presence here, more than the simple knowledge that he’d joined the masses of people everywhere in that awkward hurdle into adulthood.
Because it had been horrible. He was horrible. And she wouldn’t let him forget that.
“Maybe you should get some more practice.”
“Shut the fuck up Tarja.”
A laugh enveloped her and she shifted on the couch so she was leaning on his shoulders but he pushed her away roughly. The laugh faded and instead she got annoyed. “What’s your fucking problem?! You should be thanking me, you shit.”
“Thank you, you stupid bitch,” he replied darkly, finally forcing himself to his feet and pulling his pants up that were still pooled around his ankles. “There? You happy?!”
“How happy can I be?!” she snapped back with just as much venom in her tone. “You didn’t even get me off! That was pathetic.”
“Shut the fuck up!”
“With as much porn as you watch, you’d think you’d be able to please a woman!”
“Shut UP!”
“Well at least I don’t have to worry about my parent’s catching us. That was over before I got here.”
“SHUT UP!” He was seething and infinitely embarrassed. He could hardly live with himself for having not lived up to her expectations. She was obviously well practiced in the art of fucking and she knew what was good and what wasn’t. But he...had fallen very far from her expectations. And she continued with the torturous mind-fuck. As if he didn’t feel self conscious enough not pleasing her, he had to live with the fact that she would never, ever forget it. She’d probably tell everyone.
God he wished he was dead.
“Do I need to give you a female anatomy lesson, Jan?”
He rounded on her and would have shoved her roughly again but he controlled himself. Instead he just glared, pondering his next choice. He could either try again or kill himself.
The latter was looking much more promising.
“I’m leaving. Fuck you.”
“I wish you would!”
“FINE!” he shouted suddenly, and he gestured roughly to the couch. “Then get on your fucking back, bitch!”
“What, you think you can finish what you didn’t even start?!” She was goading him now, but she didn’t look terribly accommodating in spite of her verbal manipulation. “Why don’t you come back when you know what the hell you’re doing!”
“Fuck this shit.” He didn’t even look at her as he made his way out the door.
Tarja was not going to dictate his fuckability or his skills at pleasing a woman. It wasn’t happening. He wasn’t about to let it happen. So he made his way to his Fisker, parked outside her house on the street and pulled out like a madman. His only desire now was to go downtown and try again. Find someone. Anyone. Someone who would take his money to do it again and again so that he could get it right. He needed to. He needed to show Tarja that he knew what he was doing.
And he did. While she was off getting love bites and covering her neck with concealor, he was in the dregs of the Helsinki nightlife, trying to prove to her, to himself, to someone that he wasn’t as pathetic as he felt. The break was mutual and it lasted a few years before he had the balls enough to go back to her. She asked him if he’d finally figured out what he was doing. He assured her he had. Yet despite the fact that he was able to bring her some kind of release and she fell back into favour with him for a while, she grew bored of him and eventually broke it off again. Now that he wasn’t quite so easy to terrorize or torture she lost interest in him. And with her lost interest went the uncomfortably fragile self-confidence he’d been working towards on her account.
Even then she told him he wasn’t any good, with all the work he’d put into it. Even then, at the very end, despite the fact that he was able to please her, she laughed at him. “For someone as good looking as you are, you’re pretty pathetic.”
So he found himself outside his best friend’s bar that night in September, looking to prove himself to anyone that would have him.
What he found was what was there all along. And what he did was prove himself to the one person who didn’t need him to prove anything to. Unapologetically.
And with as badly as he wanted to lose it, when it happened, it wasn’t quite the experience he thought it would be. It happened quite the way Tuomas worried it might; Jan had latched onto Tarja, either out of desperation or a need to prove himself to her, and she’d brought him down quickly. His performance was far from satisfactory, which only prompted her to laugh nonstop at him. Now, sitting half-clothed on the couch in her parent’s living room, he wanted more than anything to take back the last fifteen minutes of his life.
“Well that’s not what I expected,” she joked callously, pulling her tights back up and adjusting her black miniskirt over her thighs. “Don’t even bother lying anymore Jan. I know that was your first time.”
A darkness hovered over him as he sat there. He didn’t look at her but decided now he wanted a cigarette more than anything else. More than her presence here, more than the simple knowledge that he’d joined the masses of people everywhere in that awkward hurdle into adulthood.
Because it had been horrible. He was horrible. And she wouldn’t let him forget that.
“Maybe you should get some more practice.”
“Shut the fuck up Tarja.”
A laugh enveloped her and she shifted on the couch so she was leaning on his shoulders but he pushed her away roughly. The laugh faded and instead she got annoyed. “What’s your fucking problem?! You should be thanking me, you shit.”
“Thank you, you stupid bitch,” he replied darkly, finally forcing himself to his feet and pulling his pants up that were still pooled around his ankles. “There? You happy?!”
“How happy can I be?!” she snapped back with just as much venom in her tone. “You didn’t even get me off! That was pathetic.”
“Shut the fuck up!”
“With as much porn as you watch, you’d think you’d be able to please a woman!”
“Shut UP!”
“Well at least I don’t have to worry about my parent’s catching us. That was over before I got here.”
“SHUT UP!” He was seething and infinitely embarrassed. He could hardly live with himself for having not lived up to her expectations. She was obviously well practiced in the art of fucking and she knew what was good and what wasn’t. But he...had fallen very far from her expectations. And she continued with the torturous mind-fuck. As if he didn’t feel self conscious enough not pleasing her, he had to live with the fact that she would never, ever forget it. She’d probably tell everyone.
God he wished he was dead.
“Do I need to give you a female anatomy lesson, Jan?”
He rounded on her and would have shoved her roughly again but he controlled himself. Instead he just glared, pondering his next choice. He could either try again or kill himself.
The latter was looking much more promising.
“I’m leaving. Fuck you.”
“I wish you would!”
“FINE!” he shouted suddenly, and he gestured roughly to the couch. “Then get on your fucking back, bitch!”
“What, you think you can finish what you didn’t even start?!” She was goading him now, but she didn’t look terribly accommodating in spite of her verbal manipulation. “Why don’t you come back when you know what the hell you’re doing!”
“Fuck this shit.” He didn’t even look at her as he made his way out the door.
Tarja was not going to dictate his fuckability or his skills at pleasing a woman. It wasn’t happening. He wasn’t about to let it happen. So he made his way to his Fisker, parked outside her house on the street and pulled out like a madman. His only desire now was to go downtown and try again. Find someone. Anyone. Someone who would take his money to do it again and again so that he could get it right. He needed to. He needed to show Tarja that he knew what he was doing.
And he did. While she was off getting love bites and covering her neck with concealor, he was in the dregs of the Helsinki nightlife, trying to prove to her, to himself, to someone that he wasn’t as pathetic as he felt. The break was mutual and it lasted a few years before he had the balls enough to go back to her. She asked him if he’d finally figured out what he was doing. He assured her he had. Yet despite the fact that he was able to bring her some kind of release and she fell back into favour with him for a while, she grew bored of him and eventually broke it off again. Now that he wasn’t quite so easy to terrorize or torture she lost interest in him. And with her lost interest went the uncomfortably fragile self-confidence he’d been working towards on her account.
Even then she told him he wasn’t any good, with all the work he’d put into it. Even then, at the very end, despite the fact that he was able to please her, she laughed at him. “For someone as good looking as you are, you’re pretty pathetic.”
So he found himself outside his best friend’s bar that night in September, looking to prove himself to anyone that would have him.
What he found was what was there all along. And what he did was prove himself to the one person who didn’t need him to prove anything to. Unapologetically.