lights blending into a kaleidoscope of colors. I close my eyes, trying to block it all out. But I can't. I can't escape the betrayal. I can't escape the pain. I reach for the bottle again, the glass heavy in my hand. I take another sip, this time straight from the bottle, feeling the liquor slide down my throat. I welcome the pain. I deserve it. I was too blind to see the signs. Too stupid to realize what was happening right under my nose. For over six damn months. My boiling anger boils over, a white-hot rage. I throw the bottle across the room, the glass shattering into a million pieces. The sound echoes through the suite, a sharp contrast to the silence. I sink back onto the couch, the leather creaking beneath my weight. I'm alone now, surrounded by shards of glass and broken promises. But I don't care. I'm here to drink, to escape, to vent my anger. And no one, not even Cassandra or Ace, can stop me. I'm a volcano about to erupt. My eyes land on one of my guitars, sitting in the corner, a silent witness to my pain. It's a custom Gibson Les Paul, as dark as my mood. I walk over to it furiously, gripping it by the neck, the smooth wood familiar beneath my fingers. My reflection stares back at me from the shiny surface. Dark hair a little too long, a dark beard shadowing my jaw, cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. Dark eyes glower at me. My arms, muscled from years of playing guitar and working out, flex as I lift the instrument. The leather bracelets on my wrists, a constant fixture, stand out against my tattooed arm and highlight my long, strong fingers. The tattoo on my right arm, an intricate design of a phoenix rising from the ashes, seems to mock me. I'm not rising from anything right now. I'm drowning. With a sudden roar, I slam the guitar against the wall. The sound of cracking wood and snapping strings echoes through the room, a symphony of destruction. I watch as pieces of the guitar scatter across the floor, a mirror image of my heart and soul. I turn to the bar, my breath coming in shallow gasps. The glasses are lined in neat rows, their crystal surfaces glinting in the soft light. I pick one up, the delicate stem breaking between my fingers. Another follows, then another, the sound of glass breaking a harsh melody in the silence. My chest heaves, my heart slamming against my ribs. I look around the room at the destruction I've caused. The shattered guitar, the broken glasses, the chaos. It's a reflection of my life, the mess I'm in. And for the first time, I admit it to myself. Cassandra and I haven't exactly been on good terms for a while. She was selfish, difficult, always putting herself first. She was a beast in bed, which probably blinded me. But I was the one making all the sacrifices, the one trying to make things work. The one with the big money, supporting.
rows, their crystal surfaces glinting in the soft light. I pick one up, the delicate stem breaking between my fingers. Another follows, then another, the sound of glass breaking a harsh melody in the silence. My chest heaves, my heart slamming against my ribs.
I look around the room at the destruction I've caused. The shattered guitar, the broken glasses, the chaos. It's a reflection of my life, the mess I'm in. And for the first time, I admit it to myself. Cassandra and I haven't exactly been on good terms for a while. She was selfish, difficult, always putting herself first. She was a beast in bed, which probably blinded me. But I was the one making all the sacrifices, the one trying to make things work. The one with the big money, supporting her every whim. And she had expensive whims. It was a one-way street, and I was the one driving blindly, refusing to see the dead end. I was too busy with the band, with the big success, writing the next hit song, preparing for the next show or appearance, with my endorsements, doing the next interview. Yeah, she was sexy in bed, but when I think about it, we hadn't even been together for a while.
That should have been a fucking clue. How could I be so stupid? But with my good friend and bandmate, Ace? The betrayal is too much. How can I ever play music with him again? Broken Thunder is over, I'm sure of it. How could it not be? And that hurts too. I sink into the couch, the cool leather against my warm skin. I run my hand through my hair, feeling the strands standing on end against my palm. I stare at my reflection in the shattered mirror across the room, at the man I've become. I'm a rock star, a heartthrob, the one women swoon over. But now, I'm just Jared, the man who was betrayed, the man in pain, the man who was too blind to see the truth. And as I sit here, surrounded by the wreckage of my life, I can't help but wonder. How did I get here? How did I let this happen? What the fuck am I going to do? But the answers won't come, lost in the haze of alcohol and anger. So I do the only thing I can. I reach for another bottle, ready to drown my sorrows even more, ready to escape. Because right now, drinking is the only thing I can do. Lying in a tangled heap on the couch, the detritus of my destructive binge scattered around me, the distant echo of Simon's proposal whispers in my mind.
A luxurious suite at the Sapphire Club, offered with no strings attached or expectations, just a haven to hide, to heal, to regain my balance. He was one of my band's sponsors when we first started, and he's been repaid a thousand times over. The Sapphire Club is a symbol of secrecy in a world that thrives on scandal and rumor. A sanctuary where the elite and the famous retreat to escape, to forget, to indulge their desires. Now it's become my shelter, my fortress against the storm, both current and the one that's sure to come. With a groan, I rise from the couch, my body heavy with fatigue and drunkenness. I stagger toward the bedroom, the soft carpet a soothing balm beneath my feet. The massive king-size bed beckons me, offering a promise of solace and escape. I kick off my black boots and rip off my black clothes, leaving them strewn across the floor. I collapse onto the bed, the cool silk sheets a stark contrast to my feverish skin. I close my eyes, the room spinning around me in a dizzying dance. I'm drunker than I've been in a long time, but it's a welcome relief. The numbness, the fog, everything is preferable to the fury. I admit I'm fucking hurt. My best friend's betrayal cuts as deep as Cassandra's. We built the band together, we've known each other forever. And here I am, in this suite, miles away from Los Angeles, from the tour, from the chaos that my existence has become. I'm here, and I plan to stay, for as long as it takes to pull myself together. As I succumb to sleep, the alcohol dragging me down, I make a vow to myself. I will stay here, and hide in the shadows of the Sapphire Club for as long as it takes. Eventually I will recover, eventually I will rediscover myself, though that seems so far away right now.
I will rise from the ashes, like the phoenix etched into my arm. I will be Jared the rock star once more, I hope so. But for now, I'm just a broken man, struggling to survive the hurricane. And this suite, this club, this sanctuary, is my life raft. I will cling to it, for as long as it takes. Chapter Two The Nevada sun presses down on the windows of the limo as we pull up to the Sapphire Club, the exclusive gentlemen's club and casino. The desert heat is a stark contrast to the cool, open skies of Wyoming, where I grew up, and even different from the feel of Los Angeles, where I now live. I can feel the vibrant pulse of Las Vegas, a city that never sleeps. A city that promises everything and keeps its secrets hidden just beneath the neon glow. My heart races with a mix of nervousness and excitement. This is it. My big break, an opportunity to prepare and learn for a role in my first film! I'm ready to dive into it all, something that could change my career forever. The limo driver opens the door for me, and as I step onto the hot asphalt, I see the famous Sapphire Club looming before me like a silent titan. The building's exterior is understated, a facade that whispers of confidentiality and wealth. I glance at the steady stream of tourists beyond the club's perimeter on Las Vegas Boulevard, each clamoring for a taste of Sin City's infamous indulgences, all oblivious to the oasis of exclusivity that hums behind Sapphire's walls. I smooth down the clinging dress and head for the entrance. My hand hesitates on the cool metal of the doorknob-a brief moment when doubt and fear threaten to take over. But no, I push them away. This city wasn't built on hesitation, and neither was Hollywood. And really, neither am I.
Deep down, I'm brave. Squaring my shoulders, I step through the door and into another world. The transition is instantaneous. The air changes from the dry desert heat to a temperate coolness, carrying the subtlest hint of jasmine. The lobby is an expanse of marble, with impossibly large abstract paintings, a few exquisite sculptures of nude men and women, and a modern chandelier above it all. It screams wealth and exclusivity. What lies beyond this lobby beckons me. A hostess with a knowing smile and eyes that have seen it all guides me toward the club's main dining room. "Mr. Sinclair is expecting you, Miss Alexander. Welcome to Las Vegas and the Sapphire Club," she says in a British accent. "We will bring your luggage," she says, snapping her fingers at a bellhop. "They will be delivered to your room.
Please follow me." Through arched doors, the hostess leads the way into the Sapphire Club's main space. What unfolds is a tableau of refined beauty. Low lighting casts a soft amber hue over Chesterfield sofas that recall an era of unbridled glamour. The patrons-men of wealth and power, their conversations just a
Chapter 1 I'm a rock star
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Chapter 2 I'll become
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Chapter 3 I know what they are
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Chapter 4 response is a laugh
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Chapter 5 it's almost protective
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Chapter 6 necessity
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Chapter 7 natural sway
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Chapter 8 looking sexy
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Chapter 9 my skin
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Chapter 10 I take another
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Chapter 11 privacy
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Chapter 12 I'm here every night
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Chapter 13 I don't know
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Chapter 14 my secret
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Chapter 15 relationship
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Chapter 16 closer to me
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Chapter 17 I dial her number
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Chapter 18 Are you okay
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Chapter 19 with emotion
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Chapter 20 the emotions she's
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Chapter 21 my way to his suite
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Chapter 22 Best Director
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Chapter 23 new music
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Chapter 24 I was curious
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Chapter 25 anticipation
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Chapter 26 enigma
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Chapter 27 my studies
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Chapter 28 softly for you
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Chapter 29 silent dialogue
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Chapter 30 I could imagine
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Chapter 31 Why not
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Chapter 32 I'm sorry
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Chapter 33 wanting
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Chapter 34 the same time
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Chapter 35 My relationship
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Chapter 36 Money
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Chapter 37 Buthonestly
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Chapter 38 Shut up
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Chapter 39 Welcome back
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Chapter 40 the same way
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