I was a fraud. The realization hit me as I talked on the phone with my mother.
"You're just so responsible, honey," she chirped, her voice thick with pride. "Your father and I were just saying how lucky we are. A good student, a good boyfriend… a perfect son." The words felt like a cage closing in. I had to be perfect, even when every fiber of my being was unraveling.
"Your father said he ran into David's head of security, that man named Dmitri," she continued, her voice dropping conspiratorially. "He says David is having an event for his company next week. You should ask Maya about it. It would be a great networking opportunity for you. You'd make a wonderful impression on him, and we both know how much a connection like that could mean for your future. A partnership with someone like the Petrovs would be wonderful."
"Mom, I don't think I can just—"
"Nonsense, Leo. You're our son. You're a natural at this. You just need to show a little initiative. Your father and I are so proud of you for having your head on straight, not like those other kids who don't know what they want. You have a clear path ahead of you."
I mumbled a few more platitudes and ended the call, the receiver feeling heavy in my hand. Her words felt like a physical weight on my chest, a reminder of the life I was expected to live. I was suffocating. One minute I was a good son, a respectable boyfriend, and the next, I was a predator, spending every free moment on my phone.
The screen of my laptop was glowing with a news article about David Petrov's latest real estate deal, a hundred-story skyscraper with a glass-and-steel facade. My cursor hovered over the accompanying photo: David in a crisp suit, a confident smirk on his lips. I traced the line of his jaw with my finger, a shameful, pathetic gesture.
My best friend, Chloe, walked in without knocking, her bag dropping with a thud on my bed. "Hey, nerd," she said, her voice a splash of reality in my obsessive haze. "Still studying for that econ exam? You've been holed up in here for days."
I snapped the laptop shut, the sudden silence of the room punctuated by the frantic beat of my heart. "Just… reviewing a case study," I lied, my voice a little too quick, a little too strained.
Chloe's perceptive eyes narrowed. She didn't buy it for a second. She sank into my desk chair, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. "A case study you have to hide from me? Come on, Leo. You've been acting weird lately. Distant. Like you're a spy on a secret mission."
"I told you, I'm just stressed about finals," I said, forcing a casual shrug. "You know how it is."
"No, I don't," she countered, her tone soft but firm. "You live for this stuff. I'm the one who needs to be glued to my desk, not you. I've heard you cancel on Maya twice in a row, and she's been calling me, too. She says you've been avoiding her. You're still going over there tonight, right?"
A fresh wave of guilt washed over me. Maya. Sweet, trusting Maya. The girl who loved me, who thought I was her perfect prince. The thought of her, so pure and innocent, made my obsession with her father feel even more sordid.
"Yeah, I know. I'll be there," I said, the lie feeling heavy on my tongue. "Just trying to get ahead so I can be present with her, you know?"
As if on cue, my phone chimed with a notification. My heart leaped, a foolish, desperate hope flaring. It was an article from a business magazine: "Petrov Empire and Johnson Corp. Merger to Be Finalized." The accompanying photo was a candid shot of David and his best friend, Ivan, laughing as they toasted with glasses of whiskey.
Ivan, the trusted confidant . I stared at the photo, a sick pang of jealousy twisting in my gut. I wanted to be Ivan, to know the man behind the facade. I wanted to be in his world, not just a ghost looking in.
Later that day, at Maya's cozy apartment, I felt like an intruder. Her room was a shrine to our relationship. Photos of us, smiling at the beach, wrapped in blankets on a snowy day, laughing at a concert, were plastered on her bulletin board, a testament to a life I was slowly destroying. We ordered pizza, we talked about our classes, and we watched a movie. But all the while, my mind was a million miles away, with David, in his penthouse apartment, in his office, in his car. I wondered what he was doing, who he was with, what he was thinking.
"You're a million miles away, Leo," Maya murmured, her hand stroking my cheek. "What's on your mind? You've barely said a word."
"Just… the future," I lied. "Our future."
Her face lit up. "Tell me about it. I love when you talk about our future."
The words felt like a knife twisting in my stomach. I gave her a few vague details, a couple of sentences about a job and a house, just enough to make her smile. The ease with which the lie left my mouth was terrifying.
"I love you so much, Leo," she said, her voice soft and full of genuine affection. "It hurts me whenever I'm far from you." She looked into my eyes, and I saw a deep well of love and trust that I was actively poisoning. The truth felt like a physical weight, but I forced a smile and leaned in to kiss her.
We lay in bed, the sheets tangled around our legs, and Maya reached for me. Her touch was soft and gentle, and I responded, my body moving on autopilot. But as I kissed her, I saw David's face behind my eyelids. His dark, fathomless eyes, his confident smile. I tried to push the image away, but it was useless. It was a poison that had seeped into my veins, and I couldn't get it out.
As our bodies connected, a familiar, hollow feeling settled in my gut. I moved, but there was no real passion, no spark. My mind was on another man. The thought of him, his power, his reclusive nature, and his lonely eyes, fueled me in a way Maya never could. My body, which had been passive and almost cold, suddenly came to life, not for the girl in my arms but for the man in my head.
Maya reached for my jeans, undressing me and pulling out my already hard cock. She smiled at me, a soft, loving smile that probably made her think she was the reason I was so hard.
She took me whole into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing as she moved at a fast, hard, sloppy pace. I tangled my hands through her hair, but my mind's eye was seeing him, seeing him on his knees, taking me in his mouth, his lips coated in saliva and my precum.
I could feel myself getting closer, my groans becoming faster and more urgent. A jolt, a current of pure electricity, shot through me as I pictured David's face. My heart pounded, my hips surged, and I was filled with a primal, animalistic hunger that was both exhilarating and horrifying. It was a climax built entirely on the ghostly image of a man who didn't even know I existed.
I knew I was doomed. I was a puppet, and David was the puppeteer, pulling my strings from a distance without even knowing it. This wasn't love. It wasn't even lust. It was a sickness, a poison that was seeping into every part of my life, every thought, every waking moment. And I was falling deeper and deeper into his webs.