Post by diandre on May 27, 2012 6:46:30 GMT -5
[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding:0; margin: 0; background-image:url(http://i1029.photobucket.com/albums/y353/shockwavesyndrome/thisiswar.png);background-repeat:repeat-y;width: 450px;height:600px;] He was driving in his lambo with the tinted windows down and French music blasting through the speakers. It was a spurn of the moment thing when the celebrity decided to get the hell out of the air conditioned car, walk around the boardwalk aimlessly, and try to piece together the previous night. He had seen his ex-fiancée in one of the multiple clubs that lit up the Miami skyline. Just seeing her had brought back feelings that he would have much rather left behind. His stomach churned and his thoughts drifted toward his children. Of all people, he was a father. How in the hell had that happened? He wasn't one to believe in omens but perhaps, it simply meant that he had to slow down his wild ways and settle the fuck down. Who better to settle down with than his baby mama? About the only time they had ever disagreed that he could recall was when he had walked out on her at the alter. Well, technically there was two times. He had selfishly forgotten that he even had kids. It wasn't even that, really. It was simply that he had taken his own wants and needs over theirs. Had she really thought that he didn't want them? Did he seem that shallow to everybody? He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, adjusting his sunglasses so that they covered his eyes. Leaning over the seat, he snatched his baseball cap and set it atop his head, hoping that it would conceal his face from the vigil eyes of the photographers. When he felt somewhat safe, he rolled up the windows of his lambo and yanked his keys from the ignition, jamming them within the depths of his coat pocket. This would be...fun. He checked for his wallet and grunted, opening the door as he got slowly out of the car, dusting off his worn jeans. He didn't have a clue in the world how he had kept his sanity over the years. Right, booze and lots of it. He had almost forgotten about booze's amazing ability to numb even him. No matter how carefree and lazy he seemed, he was always bombarded with guilt and equally troubling thoughts, but he refused to unload on other people, not even his best friend. He had made the mistake of allowing his twin to see part of that in a chat room, along with his baby mama, and some other chick. Nice fucking going, Diandre, real nice. He moseyed along, trying to blend in with the crowd, occasionally bumping shoulders and giving the occasional apology. 000 | anybody | (insert witty comment here!) |