“Philipp… please… wake up.”Amelia.
But I am awake, aren’t I? Why does she sound so scared, so desperate?
It’s so damn cold. Why is it so cold?
Again, I try to take a breath, but I can’t. Damn it. Why can’t I?
“Phil… shit… you’re scaring me. Please stay with me. Hold on, the paramedics are on their way.” Amelia again, and she’s crying.
But I’m right here with her. I have no intention of leaving her. I’m just a little tired, and my stomach hurts a bit.
But I’ll be fine, little one.
The dull throbbing in my head and legs fades. It’s getting colder. Again, images of a wet road and me losing control of the car flash through my mind.
Shit, my head is so clouded by the fog that I don’t know how to make sense of it all.
Amelia’s voice sounds truly tortured now, full of sorrow, and I need to tell her that I’m here. That I just need to rest a little.
With great effort, I force my eyes open, but it feels wrong because I still can’t see anything.
Thump… thump… thump thump.
My heart has taken on a strange rhythm, and the cold gives way to a weightless.
“I love you… can you hear me? Hold on. Please…”
I love you too, little one. But I’m so tired, so very tired. I just want to sleep for a bit. I’ll feel better afterward, I promise. Don’t be mad.
The lights flash colorful beams through the hall, the beat thunders and reverberates, and everyone around me is lost in the electrifying atmosphere. But I see right through them. They don’t interest me. I couldn’t care less. Even the fact that Sarah is sitting on my lap, rubbing herself against me seductively, doesn’t faze me.
Philipp is dead. My big brother is gone.
Since my mother delivered the news, I’ve been perpetually drunk. I barely managed to get through his funeral yesterday, only to completely spiral afterward.
He’s dead.
He’s dead.
Just the thought makes my stomach churn, and my chest tightens so much that I have trouble breathing. The pain seeps through my veins like molten lava, burning away all other feelings completely. My hand clenches into a fist as Sarah leans in close and gently bites my ear.
“Honey, come on. Let go,” she coaxes with a velvety voice, and my gaze slips to her dark eyes as she leans back slightly to look at me with desire and invitation. Before she can react, I’ve grabbed her hair and clenched my fist around it, pulling gently. Sarah’s eyes widen as she understands the threat. But it seems Madam wants to test me today.
Is she trying to mess with me? Does she have a death wish? I’d be happy to fulfill it if she keeps this up.
“You have two seconds to get your pathetic ass off me, or I’ll help you out. My brother is dead. He was buried yesterday. Do I look like I want to fuck you RIGHT NOW? As if I would forget everything and have fun right NOW? You’re not THAT good.”
My voice is low and threatening, my eyes bore into hers. Sarah knows that she’s walking on thin ice. Still, she has the audacity to pout. Reluctantly, she takes my advice and gets off my lap, flopping down next to me on the couch.
“You’re such an asshole, Nic. Of course, I know you won’t forget. I just wanted to help,” she sulks, crossing her arms, but I simply ignore her.Help, huh?!
She’s after my new title and the one that comes after it. Nothing more, nothing less. She knows it, and I know it.
I continue staring into space as I down whiskey, neat. My gaze briefly drifts to the other side of the small lounge area, where Damien, my best friend, is sitting—or rather lying—on the white leather couch, raising his glass to me. His eyes are glassy, and he’s not really present anymore; he’s completely hammered.
My stomach churns again as I think about yesterday. When my mom collapsed, and that gray mouse caught her, trembling and completely shattered. Not me. No. Amelia the Great supported her.
Damien has been with me ever since I received the news about the accident. When the call came two weeks ago, his face turned ashen, and he had to sit down, only to storm out of thehouse moments later like a berserker. In the end, I found him here, but that’s no big surprise.
