I am done.
What is even the point of maintaining etiquette or human decency?
I've been-
Kidnapped.
Cut open.
Isolated.
Left to starve.
Punched.
Thrown into a prison.
I have my best friend from there almost die in my arms.
Injected with pheromones and God knows what.
I've been buried under corpses that were dripping in blood and maggots.
And I watched the man I almost liked kill my best friend to "save me"-
No.
To sell me out to his aunt.
And scr*w me- quite literally I might add.
Did he intend to?
Does it even matter?
No.
I have enough affection to warn him to stay near the window, because I am going for a pheromone shower.
And it's not gonna end pretty for anyone.
Not for me. Not for the bulky monkeys Lucrezia put to surveillance us. Not for Killian.
Simply put: they will die from my scent and I will be on the edge of dying as well.
Pheromone shock.
I already feel my stomach ripping apart. My flower withered away.
It's brutal. Like a glove full of needles and blades twisting and turning in your gut.
It hurts almost as much as a straight man's flu.
Not funny?
Well, let's see you be a comedian in my shoes. And I am not talking about my Prada.
Killian looks at me — heartbroken, betrayed. He doesn't get to feel that.
He should have just let me with Emiliano.
If he would-
Lior would be alive.
He and I wouldn't have blood on our hands.
And I wouldn't be hunted down by hyenas in haute couture like his aunt.
I point to the window. For a moment.
That is all he gets- a moment.
Then I unleashed my scent. Fully. Completely. Raw.
I've never done that before.
The ecstasy of the act made my head spin and my vision blurry. My fingertips started going numb.
And the stomach pain stopped.
I've never felt so free, so happy.
I can see Killian choking so I exit the room as fast as I can. Another small gift in exchange for what we once had.
What we could have been.
The men standing by the door didn't have the time to even point their guns towards me.
They were breaking their own noses with punches. Ripping out their tongues. Scratching their throats so violently that the inside of it was starting to show through the ripped skin.
Yet I did not feel remorse.
I need to survive. I want to survive.
Even after I lost my father.
Even after I've gone through all that.
All I can think about is mundane life- Starbucks coffee, a Michelin dinner at a nice restaurant and my boring job in Parliament.
Is that so much of an entitled kid to ask?
All this power I've never used. That I kept in me all these years is finally unleashed.
The problem is -I can't stop.
I'm getting closer to the hallway. The entrance where normal, innocent people are. And I can't control myself.
Oh, God, I'll kill everybody.
But I can't just stop. Sit here.
The scent will spread in the air, corrupting it, still killing the blameless.
Is this a sign?
That I'll never be truly free?
That I am nothing but a danger to those around me?
Is this why my father chose to trade me? To dispose of me?
Should I just jump out the window?
We are on the third floor. It should be enough to end it all.
I can feel my legs leading the way towards the opening before I even get to think it through.
I didn't even realize when I started balancing myself on the window frame.
The view down is gnarly. All concrete. Not bushes or trash to soften the fall.
My death would solve a lot.
Everything really.
My father will use it in his presidential campaign for pity votes.
Emiliano will get over his apocalyptic plan and go back to just being a genius piece of trash.
Killian will get back to being Lucrezia's obedient pet.
And I will finally find peace.
I am barely holding on to my balance.
Everything is blurry. My ears are ringing. I can feel myself trembling violently.
I don't know if it's from the fear or from pain that came back to my stomach.
One step.
That's all it takes.
A minute of suffering as my body hits the alleyway and then it will all stop.
The guilt.
The deception.
The pain and suffering.
So why?
Why am I hesitating?
I hear a woman screaming from the ground floor as she saw me.
A crowd is assembling. I think someone is calling the police. Another one took the stairs to grab me.
No.
Don't come closer.
If you get on this floor, my pheromones will kill you.
I need to jump.
I need to jump now.
One step.
I inhale a deep breath and move my right leg forward.
I feel my balance vanishing.
It's happening.
Tonight I'll become a dead man.
Mourned by no one. Loved by no one.
An insignificant existence being eliminated.
I feel my eyes filling with tears.
The only person crying at my death is me.
I let go of my grip and let myself fall.
This is it.
Or not?
A hand grabs me by my throat.
I feel myself falling back on a warm body.
Would I be too much of a pervert if I kissed this person?
Why am I even so happy to be alive?
I was so eager to die just a moment ago.
The pheromones.
He'll die if he stays here.
I tried to face him, but he held me tight. Not letting me go. Trapping me into his arms.
"The pheromones", I mumble.
My voice is hoarse. Ripped apart. The pain is unbearable- my stomach flower, the guilt, the relief I don't deserve.
"That's ok. I got you."
His pheromones.
I never thought I would miss them so much.
Comforting.
Home.
The echo of his words ricocheted against the hallway's walls the moment I was slipping into unconsciousness.
"Let's go home, my dear wife."