First Lasts

Enraged. That’s what I was.
No Livid. That’s it, I look down at the newspaper sprawled on the floor in the front of my door, and I punch the door. Of course, just my luck, I get caught on camera with the bitch that fucked me over. Thank you god, aren't you just perfect. I bang the door as I enter my apartment. Locking the door immediately, I wasn't going to dare let that asshole of a fiancée back into this house. Fuck I hate my life; I take off my heels jumping on the coach too exhausted to even move. I am done. I close my eyes, and the color of blackness eludes me.

“Wake up” someone whispers roughly, I rub my eyes, and there only inches away stairs back deep brown ones and I know I’m dreaming. “Wake up” another shake.Wait...What?
“Daylen..?”
“Yes sweetheart, wake up” I look at his frantic face. Then I’m fully awake.
“HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET IN HERE?”
He hushes me frantically. I look to the windows and I see figures standing outside. Then my gaze turns cold and back to him.
“What the hell is going on?” I ask more calmly.
“We need to get out of here” I’m confused.
“Reporters” I about punch him. He knew I wanted nothing to do with him, and yet he stood there in MY HOUSE! Telling me we needed to leave!
“Then get the fuck out” I point to the front door.
“That’s social suicide and you know It.” he mutters. Then I rethink how it would look if the running candidate for mayor walked out of my apartment this early in the morning. “I hate you” I tell him. He turns and smiles. “Thank you doll, from you that’s practically love.”
“Don’t call me that!” I spit back, he looks at the side window. “Let’s go” He says, making an escape. I merely take my time going to my room, picking out clothes putting on makeup and then grabbing my bag. “You really…” he stops before he says anything else.
“Where are we going?” I ask as I go through the window and at the back of the apartment. “Just follow me alright.” and he’s back to the Daylen I know. Cruel.

His car was parked away behind a bush, only the red tint peeking out. He ran for it taking shelter in it and we drove off, going through twists and turns in the back roads till we came to his house. Just our luck though, it was stocked with even more reporters and news casts. I stoop low, sighing. He makes a left and we come to the back of his house near a shelf, where it’s completely empty. I look at him in disarray; there is no way we are making it in his house without getting spotted. He unlocks the door getting out. “Daylen?” he holds up to fingers shushing me, then he waves for me to follow him, I find myself at the back of his house next to a huge window, he pushes on it and it opens, he goes through quietly and unseen, I follow. I find myself looking at the very definition of hell and beauty. It’s a mess, his office, papers and colors and pencils, canvases are everywhere, he merely shuts the window and tiptoes over all the things. The room is stunning, elegant, but messy as fuck.
“You can talk now, the house is completely sound proof.” he says, slipping out of his shoes and hoodie. “Why the hell am I here? What do you want?” I fold my arms. He smiles, a dimple popping from his right cheek. “I have a proposal.” He says leaning on his black wood desk. I stare up at the arched ceiling that held a chandelier. Then back at him. “I’m not interested.” I say rather harshly.
“I don’t particularly care if you are or not.” He shoots back. I merely wait for him to continue. “I’m in the running to become mayor, as you well know, and with that even senator. Every vote counts and by what you saw in the papers and this morning you bump my chances of becoming Mayor quite a bit.” he says in a matter-of-factly way.
“And?” I say.
“I’ll get to the point, I need you” he says bluntly. I stare a little shocked, then it dawns on me that this was all for the media. “I hate your guts” I say loud and straightforward. He chuckles and the sound shouts down my spine like little butterflies. “Yes love, I’m aware”. He steps close to me.
“I’ll make a deal with you, you act as my perfect little glass angel, and I’ll make you rich. As you see I can afford anything you desire.” He whispers in my ear, which makes my heart sky rocket. I push him back. “Fuck you!” I say to him turning and going to the window. He stops me twirling me around. “You have no idea how much I want to.” he says, the deep edge in his eyes a little frightening. I try to break loose but he doesn't let go. “Say yes doll”, he echoes.
“Fine” I finally broke under his grip.
His smile returns, this time with the second dimple piercing its way on his cheek. “Good” he says.
“Let’s have coffee” he says letting go. I compose myself as he heads to the kitchen; I stay in his office, looking through his things. Something catches my eye, an old picture of rotting back flowers, next to it a poem.

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end?
Each changing place with that, which goes before,
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown’d,
Crooked eclipses ’gainst his glory fight,
And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth
And delves the parallels in beauty’s brow,
Feeds on the rarities of nature’s truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow:
And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand,
Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.

“Death” rolls off my lips. A cup lands near my left on a table.
“Death is our destroyer” a voice says behind me. I turn to find Daylen looking down.
“That’s a little morbid” I mutter, he laughs.
“It reminds me that we all must die, to live every moment to the fullest but not too exotically.” A glint in his eyes tells me that he’s telling the truth and that this single poem means a lot to him.
“Shakespeare fan, I take it?” His eyes brighten.
“Yes, very much so”
I look to the clock, as it reads 4 o’clock; I had been there with him for about 5 hours, watching TV on a coach. The marathon on of Catfish was on, so we watched in silence. It was a beautiful home, messy as fuck though. I got up no longer able to take the mess, I cleaned up his dining first, removing all the papers and organizing them, then sweeping he sat, working and watching.
“I can get used to this” he says in the other room.
“To what?”
“You”
“Me what”
“You know the whole barefoot and naked in the kitchen thing” he echoes. I chuckle knowing that was something he would say. My phone goes off, and I find myself getting yelled at by Gillian”
“Where the hell are you” she exclaims. I hear Daylen laugh, and apparently she does to.
“Oh my god, don't tell me your with the god himself” she yells, and Daylen chuckles, his ego probably skyrocketing. I roll my eyes.
“There are so many newspaper bitches here, I can't get in the front door.” she says as screams come from her end of the phone. “Oh shit, hey I’ll call you later, love you be safe, no unprotected sex kid, bye” she hangs up without me getting a single word in. I sigh finishing the cleaning and sitting down.
“What are we gonna do” I ask. He looks up and smiles.
He gets up not answering and walks to the front door I follow , he turns and with force he grabs my shirt and pulls it down, then grading me he opens the door, and flashes burst through in tremendous color, I’m horrified, it looks like we just got done having sex. Shouts and voices burst asking questions all at once.
“Are you two dating?”
“What are you guys?”
“Do you love her?”
“What do you plan to do…” they come at once, I merely hold tight to Daylen as my knees give away. He holds me smiling.

“Please, one at a time”