PROLOGUE: ONE NIGHT OF PAIN AND PLEASURE

-Lexelle-

The blaring music from every corner of the club is not enough to deafen me and make me forget the painful words Chad spat at me just a moment ago. It's like a broken record that keeps playing his blame game in my mind, reminding me why he managed to deceive me and disregard our years-long beautiful relationship.

Psh! Beautiful relationship? Perhaps it's just my delusion!

I gulped down my drink and gestured to the bartender, who was busy with another customer.

"One more, please!" I shouted so the bartender could hear me.

"Are you okay, Miss?" the bartender asked me.

"Give one more round and mind your own business," I hissed at the bartender.

"Whoa! Okay, I got you," the bartender replied and quickly got my drink.

"Make it double!" I added. He looked at me but didn't say anything and just complied with my request.

I requested a double whiskey, hoping its bitterness would beat my bitterness. How could they deceive me like this? Did I do something wrong to deserve this? F*ck them! They'd been messing with me for a long time, but because Chad's apparent love and care blinded me, I didn't notice it.

I truly believed we were happy.

I truly believed we loved each other, and take note! Take fcking note, we dreamed of having a fcking married family! What did he mean by those promises? That they were all just sketches and scripted? That he was using me for practice for his life with my snake of a friend?

Can I wish for this night only? May lightning strike them while they're having sex! So their bodies and souls get burned. They're both immoral and disgusting!

Absentmindedly, I looked around, deep in thought. Of all the people here enjoying themselves, how many drinks because they were deceived and toyed with?

Are there others who were betrayed and backstabbed by their best friend?

Are there others who fell in love with a jerk of a man?

Anyone? Can you raise your drinks and toast with me? Shout with me?

'Damn, this is how it feels to be bitter,' I bitterly told myself.

I took a deep breath and looked at the bartender approaching with my order.

"Broke-hearted?" he asked with a grin as he set down my drink.

'And what if I am?' I thought. "Thank you," I said and quickly turned away. I faced the dancers on the dance floor again.

Since Chad became my boyfriend, I have never gone to places like these again. I thought it would look bad for someone like me, who had a boyfriend, to hang out at nightclubs and party like there's no tomorrow. I wanted to be the perfect woman in his eyes, someone he could be proud of to all his acquaintances – and that did happen. Whenever we were out with his family and friends, he would always brag about my achievements and how I take care of him. It felt heartwarming, especially coming from the man you love the most.

But it was all a ruse, wasn't it? All his compliments, our shared dreams, were nothing but a façade to hide his illicit affair.

I grew resentful toward Chad and my so-called friend with every sip of my whiskey. They took advantage of my trust and love and left me with a broken heart and an empty glass.

"No, thank you," I told the bartender as he approached me with another glass. I didn't need another drink. I needed closure, a way to move on from the pain slowly eating me from the inside.

I got up from my seat and glanced at the dance floor one last time. All these people, lost in their world, had no idea of the pain of betrayal. They didn't understand the agony of being cheated on by the one you loved the most.

I abruptly stopped as I approached the exit when I heard a woman near me shout.

"F*ck those arseholes! I can live without them!" yelled a woman to her friends.

"Just drink that!" her friend said, laughing, handing her a bottle of alcohol. The woman accepted it and took a big gulp.

A strange sense of calmness washed over me. Maybe it was the alcohol, or perhaps the woman was right. I can live without any man, or maybe it was accepting my painful reality. I don't know. But one thing was clear: I wouldn't let this betrayal define me. I wouldn't let Chad's betrayal affect me.

I don't want to leave

I don't want to hide

Starting to cry but then remember I . . .

The crowd all began to sing along to the song. Some even changed the lyrics to curse those who had hurt them. It's true what they say that alcohol is better company when you're heartbroken. It lets you release all the resentment you've held back during the times you endured and played the fool.

They were right. I can live without a man in my life. Why should I waste my tears on a worthless guy like my ex-boyfriend? Fck him! So to all those who are heartbroken and shattered like me? Cheers to a fcking new beginning!

After a while, I joined in singing along with the song. It seemed like the DJ's repetitive song alleviated my heartache. It was as if every song lyric was slowly covering the gaping wound left by my deceitful boyfriend.

Due to my drunkenness and excessive movement, I felt a bit dizzy. Perhaps it was the effects of all the alcohol I had been drinking. In a swift turn, I lost my balance. I thought I would fall, but two strong arms gripped my waist.

"Careful, woman, you'll fall if you move like that," said a baritone voice to me. I felt even more intoxicated when I smelled the stranger - a mix of alcohol and expensive cologne.

I smiled and tried to get a good look at the man, but I couldn't see him clearly due to the shifting disco lights. But with his masculine arms and baritone voice, I knew he was handsome and well-built.

"I'm used to getting hurt," I said, not bothering to pull away from the guy. There was a flashing warning in my brain, but perhaps due to the spirits of alcohol, I could no longer control my body well. I felt like my body wanted to be near him.

"Sound's bitter. By any chance, are you—"

"Brokenhearted?" I interjected.

He laughed softly, revealing the deep dimples on both cheeks. "Damn, he looks so hot," I said softly.

"Who?" the man asked.

"What?" he questioned. I realized I must have said that a little too loud. I was supposed to say it in my head. "Oh no, here it goes," I thought.

"Do I look hot to you?" he asked with a smile.

I nodded. He didn't know me, and I didn't know him either. There was no harm in doing this, right? First, I'm single and can do what I want with him! "Hell, yeah!" I answered, causing him to laugh again.

Every laugh of his was music to my ears, and before I knew it, I was thoroughly enjoying dancing with him in the middle of the dance floor. The night wore on, and perhaps it was the alcohol that persuaded me to go along with the man.

I didn't even bother to ask his name. As for me, he just referred to me as "Woman" - a somewhat endearing pet name in our fleeting, alcohol-soaked moment. We danced and laughed, swaying to the music while everything else around us faded into obscurity. It felt like it was just me and him in our little world.

As the night wore on, the alcohol seemed to take complete control, blurring my judgment and sending waves of reckless courage coursing through me. In my drunken haze, I found myself being led by him away from the pulsating dance floor.

"Where are we going?" I asked, my words slightly slurred.

"Somewhere quieter," he answered with a mischievous glint in his eyes. His voice was as intoxicating as the liquor running through my veins, making me feel giddy.

I probably should have protested or at least questioned his intentions more. But the part of me that cared about such things was drowned in alcohol. So, I let him lead me through the crowd, into a dimly lit hallway, and into an elevator that took us to one of the higher floors of the building.

He turned to look at me as the elevator doors closed behind us. His eyes were intense, looking at me like he was trying to figure out a complex puzzle. Then he reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. His touch sent shivers down my spine, a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

"Are you sure about this, woman?" he asked, his voice profound and severe. His eyes were concerned, a stark contrast to his earlier playful demeanor.

I looked at him, taking a moment to sober up slightly. I knew what he was asking. Was I ready for what might happen next? Was I using this to escape the pain of my heartbreak?

Maybe I was. But at that moment, it didn't matter. I was hurt, angry, and wanted to forget. And this stranger, this handsome man with the baritone voice, was offering me a distraction, an escape from the pain.

With a determined nod, I answered him. "Yes, I'm sure."

He said nothing after that, pulling me close as the elevator continued its ascent. I had no idea what the rest of the night would bring, but I didn't care then. I chose what I wanted for once, not worrying about others' thoughts. I was taking control, and it felt liberating.

And so, that night, I let myself get lost in the moment's pleasure, forgetting the pain of my heartbreak, if only for a while.