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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Mystery · #1595344
This is the first chapter of something I have been working on.
Chapter One

Dec Mitchell increased his speed to a light stroll as he made his way down the street.  His grey silk Donna Karan suit flowing smoothly over the contours of his body.  He was six foot two inches with jet black hair, bright green eyes and a toned rather than muscular body.  Model agents had scouted him several times over the years, but all that flouncing about had never been for him.  With his full head of hair cropped for a minimum of effort and a maximum of trend and style he saw himself as a poster boy for today’s metrosexual man.

Walking down Neal Street he flicked his left wrist to reveal his Raymond Weil watch.  He was already running thirty minutes late.  In hindsight he had made the wrong decision getting off the tube at Leicester Square, Covent Garden would’ve been a much better choice.  The pavements outside the pubs were filled with city boys with dolly birds hanging off their arms.  He was getting frustrated, having to make his way through all these insignificant people.  They were nothing to him and the hold up they were causing; only served to get him increasingly vexed.

He reached the pub and entered through its double doors as Chloe was finishing her glass of Rioja.  By the empty glass still on her table this was her second.  He saw her straight away; her auburn hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, the remnants of the day’s make-up beginning to slide down her pale face.  She sat slouched in the wooden dining table chair and he realised this wasn’t going to be as easy as he had originally planned.  But deep down he had already known that, hence his decision to meet in this pub on a busy Friday evening after work.  If only she had taken his not-so-subtle hints it would have been much easier for the both of them.  Heading straight to the bar he ordered a large wine for her, a pint of Lager and a Whiskey chaser for himself.  Paying the bartender with a crisp £10 note and telling him to ‘keep the change’; he downed his Whiskey in one.  Taking his beer in one hand and her wine in the other he turned towards her, and walked towards table where she sat.  All the while wondering how much time he had before the shit hit the fan.

To Dec, Chloe Smitchen looked as if she were in a daydream, far away with the fairies.  As she approached she looked at him so adoringly he felt as if he were the best Christmas present ever.  He knew she hadn’t yet realised he was in fact a lump of coal.

He noticed the two blondes on the table behind her eyeing him up.  One had the urchin look that a lot of girls favoured these days.  Her friend was obviously taking her style from every footballers WAG that made the cover of Heat magazine. They were both pretty but still a little too young for him. 

“Thanks.”  Chloe said as Dec placed the wine in front of her.  He took the seat at the opposite side of the table to her, deliberately keeping his distance.  He saw her smile as she realised he had bought her favourite wine.  She had no idea Dec had just told the bartender to ‘pour her the same as before’.  The bartender was clearly an observant boy as he had got the right one.  They drank in silence for what felt longer than a few minutes.  If honest he was glad of the peace and quiet.

“Chloe, babe.  Look I’m…” he tried to start when she interrupted him.

“It’s alright hun.  I know what the tubes are like at this time of the day.  Anyway, I was a little late myself.”

Dec knew she was lying but allowed her to prattle on, knowing deep down he just hadn’t been bothered to leave the office on time.  When the nasality of her voice became too much he figured now was as good as any to say his piece.

“Look Chloe,’ he took a sip of his lager hoping to get some saliva back into his increasingly dry mouth.  ‘Well, I’ve been thinking and I… I don’t want you to move in with me.”  He gulped down his lager as he let his words hit home.

“But why?” she wailed. 

“I’m just not ready for that kind of commitment; I did tell you that at the start.  And well, it has only been four months.  Basically it’s all feeling a little fast.  I’m sorry but that’s how it is.  I’m sorry.  It’s over.”

Her shoulders shook and he anticipated what was coming next.  He was far too bored and busy for the water works.

“But Declan I love you and I… I thought you loved me?”

“Did I ever tell you I loved you?  Well did I?” he left the question hanging in the air above the mahogany table.

“Well no. But I… but I thought you did”

“Well I didn’t.  And I don’t.”

The tears had begun to flow and he yawned theatrically.  He realised it was nearly 8 and he had an important phone call to make at quarter past.  It was nearly time for Dec to leave the building.

“Declan, please don’t do this.  We can make it work.  I can take things slower.  I don’t have to move in straight away, we can, we can wait a bit.  Hun, I’ll do whatever it takes.”  Chloe pleaded.

Looking at the girl sat opposite from him he felt his face redden on her behalf.  She had such a lack of dignity and so little self respect.

I’ll do whatever it takes 

His memory evaded him now as to why he had started to date her in the first place. 

Oh, yeah.  She had a mouth like a hooker. 

Dec had always been a sucker for a good blow job.  And a great pair of tits.  But unfortunately for Chloe those factors didn’t make up for the continual whining and the desperate odour of please marry me that exuded from her every pore.  Noticing the time again he drained what remained of his pint, expertly without spilling a drop.

“I’m sorry Chloe, but that’s all there is to it.  It’s over.  Just deal with it.”

As he stood up to leave her hand grabbed his.  Looking down on her, he knew she could see the disgust in his eyes.

“But Declan. Please.”

He shrugged his wrist free.  Before completely turning his back on her he turned and said ‘Oh and Chloe.  The name is Dec.’

Walking through the double doors into the fresh air he could feel the whole pubs eyes on his back.  He knew they could all see that he couldn’t care less.  They probably enjoyed his public show of rejection.  Other people’s pain was a sick pleasure instilled within human nature.  He took out his mobile and inhaled deeply, trying to rid the smell of pity from his nose.  He dialled a number permanently imbedded in his brain, feeling reassured as his call was answered.

“K, its Dec.  We on? Tomorrow then, usual time, usual place. See ya then”

Dec walked back the way he had come, this time with a bright smile on his face.



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