Chapter 1

BLAKE

I am a catalyst. I get into situations to either speed things up or slow them down, personally, I prefer the speedy approach. I do not like living like ordinary people, rather I enjoy being a part of the many lives people create for themselves. I am a blender, blending into people's lives so much so that they assume my presence, and ignore my influence in their lives. Doesn't that sound exciting??

Only to me??

Ooh well!

I was a catalyst when I decided to hang out with Vinny and Eve. We have been friends for ages, by ages I mean two years.

The thing about being a catalyst is that you never stay in one place for long. First, because you get bored easily since people are like toys, you are giddy getting to play with them when they are new, but you get bored. You then go in search of another new toy for fun times.

That's my harsh reality.

The second reason I am ever on the move is to avoid ever being made. It would suck if anyone caught up with what I was up to. I doubt it's fun trying to explain why you are toying with people's emotions. Not out of my own experience, but people hate that!

Thirdly, I am at my best when I am lonely, the new girl, the odd one out or something in those lines. I have never fitted in anywhere and it's better to move on than to either force things or to stick out like a sore thumb. That's right, when I look in the mirror, I am reminded of a sore thumb. I wonder where I got that from! Trauma alert!

Anyway, in my two years with the new group of friends, I had noticed some anomalies. Just as cliché as the American films… I was the fifth member of five; there was Neema, the mother-hen, pretty and poised. Then there was her boyfriend, Vinny, an average cute, high-achiever with repressed desires. They were a fitting couple, comfortable and moral. They wanted to wait till marriage to have sex, and they were 23 years old. Good luck to them in this world!

You see how cynical I can be…

It's not a good color on a girl, or anyone really, so I've been told!

Eve, an impulsive party girl, dependent on Neema to take care of her. Eve is mad talented in making food. The first time I tasted her vegetable rice, I almost shit myself but instead I had a tiny nerve-shattering orgasm.

I hear there is a name for having a food orgasm, but then there is a name for everything these days. What do you call a guy with a broken car on the side of the road with pink heels and a nine-inch nose?? I have no idea but I bet there is a name for it.

My point is, Eve can cook.

Lastly, there is Marcus, the ultimate twenty-first-century player. He is hot and every girl wants to sleep with him so he does them a favor and smashes their brains out. The girls then think they can keep such a love machine to themselves but without brains, no way you manipulate a man into staying. So Marcus has a long endless string of bitter, heartbroken, revenge-plotting or woke women. However, he has low self-esteem that he hides in in-jokes and that snake between his legs. He claims he is so huge that he has to adjust himself every second to get comfortable. Typical male dominance trait.

I hate to admit that even though I am not impressed, I am curious to find out how big the dick is. I hate being curious because I always find things out.

I have no idea how they became friends. Still, they are good friends who took me in as the exotic stranger. A girl who looks like danger but smells like daisies, everyone likes such contradictions.

My outward appearance does not fit my personality. I tailored it to draw people to me, a mystery, a puzzle to solve in a safe environment. I needed to fit in but not be a part of the circle of life… “Fitting in” made me less of a sore thumb.

The exciting thing about the group of friends that had no busy being friends, was the mismatched coupling that was going on. I noticed Vinny had a crush on Eve but couldn't do anything because of his celibate relationship with Neema. Marcus was in love with Neema but knew himself as scum and not good enough for her, so he stayed away but close. Neema was miserable in a way that I hadn't figured out yet. While Eve did not realize her potential… She was capable of so much, but she dumbed herself down to meaningless sex with a fuckboy I found disgusting, he was good-looking, and all but his aura was murky, he disgusted me. Eve also avoided taking on responsibilities in the fear that she was not good enough. That's why she hangs around Neema to be in the presence of a strong independent woman, something she clearly was but too chicken to own up to. I still hadn't unearthed what happened in her life to shape her in this sad way. I did love her wild nature, she would drink, smoke, and party with me, something I needed but I would die before admitting it. She was a wild card who I could hide behind… I liked her the best out of the Freudian-wet-dream of their friendship.

That brings us back to what I was doing with Eve and Vinny in her apartment, chilling.

Or what do we call friends just seated, talking about nothing important and feeling included and heard? I don't know,,, but I wanted to push them together, let them know that they were meant to be together. I knew the only way to do that is to introduce sex into the mix. Boys imprint on the girls they really love when sex is involved. They feel something foreign and magical inside them when they bed the girl of their dreams..not many men experience this and the ones that do either screw things up by running away or being jerks. A small percentage realize what they got and hold on tight. Of course, this is just my theory since there are so many ignored variables but that's not interesting.

I wanted to help Vinny make his move since I knew how miserable he was with Neema even though he really did love her. On the other hand, I wanted Eve to get laid well and proper just on the principle I really liked her… Not sexually, though.

I watched them talk and laugh and occasionally flirt. I often blended into the background, but since Eve is such a nice person, she would pull me back into their conversation, something Vincent didn't care for. He likes me enough but I was cock blocking him big time with my presence. He was a little grateful, though because he knew if he did anything with Eve, it would ruin things for him and his girlfriend and ruin Eve's friendship with Neema. He didn't want to hurt her or complicate things for her. He is a good guy after all.

On my end, I was getting bored of their dance so I brought out the catalyst. I introduced the topic of sin, SEX. And without knowing, I set the ball rolling for the first day of the rest of my life. I feel I need to explain myself before I ruin this relationship between you and me.

I am sure I am coming off as a bad person, someone ugly and someone you would love to hate. I know there is a small percentage in you that is jealous of me, you want my life or at least to be my friend but I could care less about you because anything I say or do will impress you. So I explain myself to those who would love to hate me. I am cynical and unreligious and a sexual deviant as you are soon about to find out. I seem to manipulate people and prey on their emotions.

Here I am contemplating helping a boy in a committed relationship to cheat on his faithful girlfriend with the girlfriend's best friend. I am about to start a storm if I succeed. It's important to note that people never do things they don't want to do. We are stubborn like that, so if by any chance I succeed in bringing in the storm, I was just but a catalyst, whatever happens, needed, or wanted to happen only that no one knew how to make it happen. I know some may refer to me as a psychopath due to my lean display of emotions or empathy but I am the most empathic person I know. I feel more than anyone else. I notice people in pain or in great triumph easier than I notice a change in the weather. I feel other people's pain and emotions and it consumes me, displacing my own proper emotions, throwing me into a whirlwind of turmoil and disaster in my own mind. I suffer a misery that can't be shared or solved. My whole being is a shield from myself. I need to survive so I build this alter ego around myself to help me get on with life without feeling the crushing weight of everyone's feelings. It's not a superpower. It's a curse, and it's nothing supernatural either.

It just is.

Don't feel sorry for me or call me a bluff, I don't care what you think of me anyway. It doesn't help I had a terrible childhood full of secrets and lies. My stepfather raped me for four years, sodomized me to be exact. My mother knew about it but since she was so in love with the monster, she kept her motherly instincts in the cabinet together with all the fine China we never really used. I should feel angry at her for failing to protect me but I merely feel sorry for her. The step-siblings treated me like Cinderella with no prince at all, and my golden slipper was immeasurable pain each night or day from the evil stepfather. I never got my godmother to dress me up pretty, but I did survive when I went to boarding school at 16. Any school is a horrible place for many but to me, it was my escape. I hated the classes and teachers but no one was doing unspeakable things to me nor was anybody failing to protect me when I needed them the most. I survived school drama and went ahead to be a young adult who drifts intending to never go back home.

So why I am cynical about love or anything good is the fact that I know how ugly love can be, I am aware of how lonely being surrounded by family can be and how confusing it is never knowing your father. I am not looking for sympathy, we all have a story to tell, everyone is messed up by one thing or the other. Some are sick of being wealthy, some need just a little money to feed themselves; others have loving parents who smother them as others wish they had someone to hug them even for a second. Some are so pretty that they have the privilege of trying to look ugly, while the ugly ones have no hope but to try and get money to remain relevant. The pretty ones go broke and suddenly no one cares and the average-looking ones get money and everyone wants to be their friend. The world is unfair but not rigged. The world is the world, it does what it well damn pleases, and it's not concerned about your tiny weeny feelings about it being fair or not… All you have to do is live it the best way you can and try and not be suckered or cheated out of the good things. Do not get so caught up in what others are doing or why they are doing whatever they are doing; you will only get turned around and spun too often to not feel dizzy. People are refreshingly different but so damning that it's not worth your time trying to figure anyone out. Just worry about yourself, your time, your worth, your truth; leave the rest to the therapists and social media.

Once again, I am cynical, I am not preaching the gospel here but I bet you are getting impatient waiting for my story to begin… You have to excuse me, I don't get to let out my thoughts and feelings often, like a broken dam, I am flooding your space with myself,,,, it's kind of fun. Still, I will get to the story of how my life got turned upside down by something I started.

Where are my manners?

My name is Blake Taylor, but don't let the name fool you; I am nothing as sophisticated as that name. My mother just happened to love such names. My small step-sister's name is Mya Ella, psssstt!!!