At two in the morning, I climbed through Arthur Sterling's window and pierced his nipple. He looked like he wanted to bite me to death. Later, after high school graduation, I broke my promise to monopolize him for the rest of his life. I went to a university thousands of miles away from him. Seven years later, we met again at a gala. He looked at me with eyes that suggested I was a complete stranger. I thought whatever we had was long over. Until I accidentally tripped into his arms and felt something hard press against me from beneath his shirt. 1 I looked up at him in shock. Arthur was clearly stunned for a moment, too. "You... you still kept it?" Before I even finished my sentence, Arthur gritted his teeth and said: "Don't flatter yourself. It's not the one you put there." Hearing his words, I lowered my eyes and nodded: "Okay. I understand." Makes sense. How could he possibly still have it? Arthur turned and walked away first. I downed the wine in my glass in one gulp. The Arthur Sterling of today was no longer the poor kid from back then. Just by standing there, countless people flocked to him. Case in point: the moment he stepped away, a crowd swarmed him, trying to strike up a conversation. I let out a bitter laugh. Before I could even move, someone linked their arm through mine. "Hey, why did you walk away so suddenly?" I blinked and looked at my date, who was gazing at me affectionately. Look at my memory. I almost forgot I brought a date tonight. Say what you will, but guys are naturally proactive. We barely exchanged two words before he dragged me into a private lounge. I sat on the sofa, not even having the time to raise my hand to stop him. Bang! The lounge door was kicked open. Arthur strode in. He grabbed my date, who was busy unbuttoning my shirt, and threw him to the floor with one swift motion. "All these years later, and you still have zero shame." Arthur glared at me, his eyes bloodshot. I let him bite my lip, running my hand through his hair, thinking: All these years later, and you're still this impulsive. He still completely loses it when someone else touches me. 2 The first time I heard the name Arthur Sterling, I thought: This guy is definitely going to be a CEO someday. Hell, maybe he's rich right now? But I was wrong. The first time I saw Arthur, he was wearing ratty sneakers that were falling apart, carrying a clean but clearly ancient backpack. His face was expressionless, cold as ice. "Arthur Sterling. Eighteen." That was his self-introduction. That's when I remembered. Last night, at my lavish 18th birthday bash, one of my boys mentioned we were getting a new kid in class today. I knew exactly what kind of person I was. And I never hid it. Too many people knew who I was. Too many people wanted to suck up to me. Living by the philosophy of "enjoy life while you can," I generously welcomed them all with open arms. But Arthur was different. He was interesting. He managed to completely ignore me sitting right next to him for two whole weeks. After two weeks, I realized he really had zero interest in me. So, for the first time in my life, I made the first move. "Hey, wanna be friends?" I smiled and held my hand out to Arthur. Growing up, whenever I smiled like that, no one ever refused me. "Sorry. Not interested." That was Arthur's reply. Everyone who knew me knew I was a complete delinquent, a rich punk who did whatever he wanted. But it was my first time actually trying to force someone's hand. After a few failed attempts to chat him up, I had my boys pin Arthur against the wall in the bathroom. In front of everyone, I grabbed him by the neck and kissed him hard. After that, Arthur's peaceful days were over. Forget just our class; wasn't there anyone in the whole school who didn't want to get on my good side? When I had a new flavor of the week by my side, Arthur—the guy I used to bully—became everyone's favorite target. His chair was thrown out the window. His textbooks were shredded. A few times, while walking back to class with my new fling, I saw Arthur with fresh bruises on his face. Of course, I was too busy having fun back then. I had no idea all of this was because of me. I didn't truly get to know Arthur until one specific night. 2 (Part 2) Even though I was a delinquent, I rarely ate street food. Because my mom was always in my ear, nagging about how dirty and unregulated those food trucks were. I actually listened to my mom. But one of my boys was having a birthday, and he said he wanted me to go get street tacos with him. Being the fiercely loyal friend I am, how could I deny his birthday wish? That night, I ordered practically the entire menu from the taco stand for him. The guy bringing our food was Arthur. His face was just as cold while serving food. I guessed people probably gave him a hard time at work, too. If you're poor and act all high and mighty, you're not going to survive out here. But I didn't bully him that night. I had already kissed him to assert my dominance; I didn't have a fetish for endless bullying. But one of the guys with me started talking. "I heard he works three jobs a night." I paused my mobile game and laughed: "Three jobs? How much can he even make?" "A hundred bucks? Probably not even that. I heard it from someone else—his mom died, his dad remarried, and his stepmom thought he was in the way, so they transferred him here. His family was dirt poor to begin with, and all their money goes to his dad and stepmom's new kid. They probably never even planned on sending him to college." I don't know what I was feeling at that moment. But I knew that when my dad was dead broke working three jobs a day, he had my mom standing behind him. Arthur only had himself. From that day on, out of pity, I started paying attention to Arthur. 3 Right before midterms, the school handed out forms to everyone. The form asked if we "voluntarily" wanted to purchase supplementary study guides. These kinds of forms—asking if you're "voluntary"—basically mean you don't have a choice. Only one person in the entire class checked "No." When the homeroom teacher asked the person who checked "No" to stand up, I already knew who it was. I counted in my head. Seven seconds later, Arthur stood up. He still had bruises on his face from some unknown fight. He remained expressionless, just pressing his lips tightly together. Much later, after knowing him for a long time, I found out: When Arthur is upset, he presses his lips together. Those seven seconds... that was his pride. After class, I went to the teacher's office. The homeroom teacher was still holding the form with "No" checked, talking to another teacher. "Isn't he just deliberately embarrassing me? Who can't afford fifty bucks for study guides these days? If he's really that broke, why is he even in school?!" I snatched the form right out of his hand, grabbed a pen, and changed the "No" to a "Yes." "I'll pay for his study guides." That was the first time I stuck my neck out for Arthur. After school, I carried his set of study guides into the classroom and slammed them onto his desk. He looked up at me, his voice cold: "I didn't buy these." Even though I guessed he wouldn't accept them, I still found it annoying. "Buy one get one free. I don't need 'em, so they're yours." Looking back now, I was such an idiot back then. Who would believe an excuse like that? Arthur didn't even look at me again. He stood up to leave. I had no idea why he hated me so much. But at the time, I just wanted him to take the books. So I grabbed his wrist and forcefully kissed his cheek. "There. Now you didn't get them for free." ... Arthur ended up keeping them. Not because he agreed to use a kiss as collateral. But because I told him if he didn't take them, I'd have my guys drag him into the woods tomorrow and force them on him. Arthur probably actually believed me. But I was just messing around. Sigh. I was such a bastard. 4 The guy who didn't buy the study guides ended up with study guides. This became the new excuse to bully Arthur. When I walked into the classroom this time, I didn't have my flavor of the week with me. Because yesterday, to deliver Arthur's books, I stood my date up. A few guys in the class were surrounding Arthur. They were holding his study guides, ripping them up page by page right in front of his face. Shreds of paper fluttered down like snow. I grabbed a chair and smashed it into the guy tearing the book. The classroom went dead silent. I stepped forward, grabbed the guy by the hair, stepped on his stomach, and said: "You dare rip up the books I gave him? Do you have a death wish?" The guy and I ended up in the principal's office. One phone call from my mom, and I was released without a scratch. I was let out while classes were still going on. When I got back to my classroom, I saw Arthur standing outside in the hall. The homeroom teacher had kicked him out, saying the fight between me and that guy was all his fault. I ruffled my hair, stood in front of him, and said: "Damn, why don't you fight back when people mess with you?" Arthur looked at me, his eyes colder than ice: "Didn't you order them to do it?" ... He actually thought I was the mastermind. That I was just playing some twisted game with him all along. If that's what Arthur thought... Then from now on, no matter who bullied him... The blame would fall squarely on my head. Arthur, you play hardball. The one thing I, Liam Vance, cannot tolerate in this life is being misunderstood. To dispel Arthur's suspicions, I became his most aggressive protector in the entire school. If someone bullied him, I beat them up. If someone mocked him, I beat them up. If someone was passive-aggressive to him, I beat them up. After fighting left and right, the principal's phone was nearly blown up by my mom's calls. Finally, thanks to my relentless brawling, my mom had to come down to the school. She looked at me, nursing a few minor cuts from fighting so much, and then looked at Arthur, who I had protected flawlessly. She sighed and said: "I've never seen you care about someone this much." Care? Both Arthur and I froze. Before my mom left, she gave me a huge bag of snacks and told me to share them with my friends. I shoved all the snacks into Arthur's arms. 5 No one at school dared to bully Arthur anymore. Not even the stray dogs on the street dared to bark at him. Ever since my mom came that day, Arthur stopped being so repulsed by me. Because I could finally put my arm around his shoulder. Turns out, treating Arthur well meant I could get closer to him. I was incredibly smug about it. Over time, treating Arthur well became a habit. Whenever I bought something, I'd buy an extra for Arthur. If I found a good restaurant, I'd bring Arthur next time. When my mom hired top-tier private tutors for me, I brought the tutors to Arthur's tiny apartment so we could study together. Then, on the finals, Arthur ranked 1st in our grade. I ranked 6th from the bottom. My mom said there was progress; at least I wasn't dead last anymore. The moment I truly wanted to claim Arthur for myself was during winter break that year. During the holidays, every family was celebrating and bustling with noise. I FaceTimed Arthur to say Happy New Year. He was buried in practice exams and just replied, "Happy New Year." It was completely silent where Arthur was. I had been to his place many times. I knew he lived alone in a rundown, tiny apartment his grandmother left him before she passed. I suddenly had an idea. I hung up the phone, packed a suitcase, and bolted out the door. My mom asked where I was going. I said I was going to find Arthur. My mom said "Oh," and then suddenly realized: "You're flying to the East Coast?!" ... Winter on the East Coast is brutally cold. When I got off the plane, my legs were shaking uncontrollably. At two in the morning, I knocked on Arthur's door. Listening to his approaching footsteps, I felt like my heart was going to pound out of my chest. When Arthur opened the door, I threw my arms open and smiled: "Happy New Year!" I had a whole speech prepared, something about "With me here this New Year, you won't be lonely!" But I never got to say it. Because Arthur blocked my mouth. He grabbed the back of my head and slammed the door shut with a loud bang. That night, he kissed me until my legs gave out. 6 I didn't know what kind of relationship Arthur and I had. But after that night, I became a little addicted to him. I spent almost the entire winter break at his place. "Are we really not going to kiss?" became my catchphrase. Arthur would be doing practice tests, and I'd sit next to him asking, "Are we really not going to kiss?" He'd look at me and not say a word. A while later, he'd turn a page of his test. "Come here." I'd instantly lean in and get a brief, intimate moment. At that time, we weren't officially together, but the vibe was definitely more than friends, constantly teasing my heart. Once school started again, things completely changed. I had never wished more that I wasn't a playboy. And the other problem was, I had too many friends. Today it was this guy's birthday, tomorrow that guy's party. Compared to hanging out with Arthur every single day during winter break... Once school started, I barely made it to his place once every two weeks. But Arthur never reacted, so I assumed he didn't care. Until my "first love" transferred to our school. Truth is, I had absolutely zero romantic feelings for my "first love." We were just friends who hung out a bit more often, and somehow the rumor mill branded him my "first love." But that's how high school is. The slightest rumor about me would spawn eight hundred different versions. Among them, the version where I was hopelessly pining for my "first love" was the most popular. Arthur still didn't seem to care. He just coldly and ruthlessly did his practice problems. So I didn't bother explaining. "Liam, it's my birthday today. Karaoke tonight, you coming?" I looked up from my desk at my "first love." To be honest, I didn't even remember it was his birthday. But I had been to countless birthday parties for him over the last couple of months. And according to my schedule, I was supposed to go to Arthur's place today. "I've got stuff to do today, I can't make it. I'll have someone drop off a gift for you later." Hearing that, my "first love's" voice instantly softened: "But it's no fun if you don't come. It's fine, just hang out for a bit. You can leave when you need to, please?" "What time?" "Six." Six. I checked my phone. I usually went to Arthur's at eight. I had time. So I nodded: "Fine." ... 7 At 9:00 PM, I stood outside Arthur's door. My head was still spinning. If I had known my "first love" wouldn't let me leave, I wouldn't have gone at all. Now look what happened. I dragged it out until now, cutting my time with Arthur short again. I knocked on Arthur's door. Because I was pretty drunk, I didn't even hear his footsteps before the door opened. Then, an ice-cold voice dropped on my head: "What are you doing here?" I looked up groggily. What do you mean, what am I doing here? I'm here to kiss you. I stepped forward, grabbed his hand, and went up on my tiptoes to kiss him. But I didn't kiss him. Instead, he grabbed me by the neck. Arthur looked at me, his voice so deep it sounded like he hated me: "Liam, do you know how dirty you are?" ... Me? Dirty? I kicked the door Arthur slammed in my face several times. He was really that heartless, just throwing me outside. And calling me dirty. I gave Arthur the silent treatment. If he was disgusted by me, I wasn't going to press my hot face against his cold ass. Plenty of people liked me. Why should I only try to please Arthur Sterling? I had a new flavor of the week, one after another. Every day, I'd bring a new fling into the classroom to flirt. But the truth is, I didn't even kiss any of them. Ever since I kissed Arthur, I never kissed anyone else again. I didn't even have any intimate contact with them. But Arthur actually called me dirty. I paraded a bunch of guys right in front of Arthur, and he had zero reaction. But the moment he got close to someone else, I lost it. 8 It was a quiet, nerdy kid from the class next door. I don't know when it started, but he was always walking home with Arthur after school. He was also constantly coming to Arthur with homework questions. Watching from the sidelines, I practically ground my back teeth to dust. Why. Why, why, why. Why call me dirty and then go get cozy with someone else? Later, one of my boys booked a private room at a club and called me over. I knew him from middle school. We had one thing in common: he liked guys too. In the middle of the night, he started telling me how much he liked his new boyfriend. He even mentioned he got him a nipple piercing. "What's the point of that? Isn't it uncomfortable?" I frowned, completely unable to understand. Until he said one more thing: "Every time I kiss him and see it, I feel like it's proof that he's mine." ... At 1:00 AM, I climbed onto Arthur's balcony and started knocking on his window. If I knocked on the door, he could lock me out. He couldn't do that with the window, because I could break the window. The literal coercion involved in doing that deed left me with lingering fear long after. But looking at that thing... I selectively ignored Arthur's murderous glare. "Are you done throwing your tantrum? Now leave." He stood up and pulled his T-shirt down. I knew I had definitely hurt him just now. And I knew exactly what what I did tonight represented. So I grabbed his hand and said: "Can we stop fighting? I..." I paused for a second and said: "I won't mess around with other people anymore." ... If I had known that's all it took to coax Arthur, I would have said it from the start. When I woke up the next morning, I took Arthur to a professional piercer and a doctor. After all, I wasn't a professional. I was crazy last night, but I was still worried about infection. Once everything was properly handled, Arthur and I went back to school.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "392111", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel