|◁ II ▷|

stormzy — lessons.

EBÉN AWOKE from his sleep to a grand rising in his boxers and a burnt-red bruise seared on his ego. The abject feeling of rejection felt unfamiliar that a woman objected his advances; not because she was seeing someone, or even that she was nursing her heart to heal following a heartbreak.

But because she had painted him with the same brush the press used to decimate his character.

There was a part of him — an minuscule one, that wanted to disprove her fallacy and show her that she needed to look harder and judge him fairly. But he had gotten tired of always having to prove himself to people as a decent human being. He had also grown tired of her resistance to him even though her body verbalised the opposite. She had firmly shut her walls and crystallised her message that whatever he thought they had; would never bloom and take root.

He also wanted to prove that he wasn't this stony-faced soul or habitual user of woman but he felt things, even if he felt them in silence.

But, last night's drunken invite into his bed that he had extended to Ezra had been a mistake, a bad one, powered by a wounded ego and a hip flask of Patron.

He couldn't stomach the thought of journeying through Ezra's body sober but he needed a body to vent his frustration at and she had gladly obliged.

If people saw him as a prick, he'd continue to be one.

Ezra's wild russet brown hair was splayed on his bare torso, softly humming snores in her sleep. He had nursed the beating that his ego had took through foreplay and sex and she had now overstayed her welcome; brushing her body off him.

His body let out a deep and tired internal groan before he took an unenthused stroll down the stairs; where Beatriz found him lying in a slump on the sofa.

Her loud clanging of utensils disrupted his kip that he wanted to take away from Ezra as the broad hadn't let him sleep; insisting on back to backs.

"Buenas dias. Estas bien?" her accented tongue trilled loudly, her mood so painstakingly obvious. "Why... are you shouting?" Ebén yawned; his entire body overcome by a tired stretch.

"Necesitas la cabeza comprobado" joshed Beatriz, passing him a glass full of orange juice to wash out the alcohol still left in his system. "Gracias" he said softly, drinking the whole thing in one draught.

"¿Dónde este tu novia?" asked Beatriz, with an inquisitive smile plastered across her face.

"She's not... my girlfriend. She just... let's me fuck"

"¿Y ella? ¿Es eso algo que ella también quiere?" wondered Beatriz, how a high-flying heiress would reduce herself to a mere booty call.

"I've never actually taken the time to ask — "

"Debería" Beatriz said with unfolding lips, gripping her spatula tightly. Ezra's whiny voice blared from the top of the staircase which made them both swivel their heads to the source of her sound.

"Morning baby. Why don't you come back to bed?"

Her mousy brown hair was loose and rumpled with bite marks still visible on her pallid-white skin.

"Why don't you leave?" Ebén's morning hoarse gruff shot a dagger at her ego; that rubbed out like a joke but he meant it. He wanted her out; as the need for her had gone now that his needs had been fully serviced both from last night and an eleven minute window this morning.

Beatriz feigned a hoax smile of her own as she guided a tray full of food in front of him, "¿Tienes hambre? ¿Puedo prepararte algo si quieres?"

Ebén stunned her eyes with a look; not wanting the company — especially from her.

"Uh, thanks" stuttered Ezra, "But I'm... bien for now"

Her rudimentary Spanish didn't seem to score her any points with Beatriz who spoke with clenched teeth, "Those who can't speak shouldn't"

Ezra sluggishly ambled down the stairs, still tired, in a skimpy lace night set. Her attention already drawn towards Ebén's girth. She wanted a round three.

"I missed you" she breathed seductively, her smudged and sloppy lips searing him with a kiss. The taste was decrepit; Ebén couldn't fathom how his lips had gone down on her if this is what she tasted like.

"What did you put on your lips?" Ebén said with a scowl; wiping off her mark.

"It's... my Christian Louboutin gloss" she whimpered innocently, like she had just been told off.

"Don't wear it if you're gonna kiss me. It tastes rank"

"I hate it when you're like this — " Ezra boldly rolled her eyes under his steel gawk, she had become not so mindful of her words and had become tired of the bullshit, like he had too.

"Like what?"

"Moody"

He didn't even bother looking up to exchange a glance, "You shouldn't have came in my bed. You know I hate it when you do th — "

They both were greeted by the abrupt entrance by Raf who squawked mischievously, "Morning lovebirds. Do you not... answer the phone anymore?"

"Who let you in?"

He approached the table spread full of food, stuffing a branch of green grapes into his mouth — "Morning to you too, Ebén. How's my superstar?"

He said with a monotone grumble, "I'm fine"

Raf assessed the shade of irritancy sized in Ebén's eyes and conjured that he wasn't fine, but he did have an unfortunate case of a foul morning mood.

"Seems like you didn't hit the spot, Ezra?

Seduction rolled off her lips, "He's hard to please"

"At least the sex is g — "

"So to what do we owe this pleasure?" Ebén hastily interrupted the looming conversation they were about to have about his size and drive of his penis.

Raf kept his mouth tight-lipped, "I'll explain it all. Meet me down at your courtyard in about 10 minutes and Beatriz, can I get a glass of rum — "

"I was of the impression that you have an office?"

"I do. Though, I prefer yours"

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Ezra's eyebrows were hinting at something as she moseyed herself closer to him; lending him her ears to confide should he need to.

"What was that about?" she mumbled, dragging her words sluggishly.

"How the heck am I supposed to know?" he chipped, with the same degree of lethargy that she had used, but it only made her more sheepish.

"Are you sure you're not keeping something from me? Cus... I've heard things" Ezra had started policing her tone with a more palatable one.

"Heard what?"

She started cowering —"Stuff, Ebén."

"Okay, and?"

"Are... you goin' to tell me?"

"And why would I do that?" he licked his lips sharply, his irritation almost flew out of the window. Ezra seemed to assume that because her core had been repeatedly put to use by Ebén; that meant that she could command him to share his secrets.

Their relationship wasn't a partnership that had them both on equal footing; the only thing good about her was the fact that she could give it up to him — so easily without him demanding much.

She bit her lip perilously; it was only then he noticed she was floundering.

"I'm not asking you to tell me everything — "

"Who said I was going to?" He spewed.

"You... didn't, I guess. I just thought that we..." she sputtered, her bottom lip quivering.

"Spit it out. Y'know, I hate it when you stutter — "

"I just thought that you would trust me enough to let me in!" she spat hysterically; vowing never to cry in front of the cold-hearted man but ultimately breaking the promise that she had made to herself.

He let out a chuckle at the state of her ugly cry and her drooping snot, "Ezra, it's completely on you if you wanna be treated like shit. I've told you bare times what this was, it's like you don't listen. Or maybe, it's that you don't even want to" said Ebén candidly, leaving her in a pit of her own thoughts.

The shade from the afternoon's sun hid the beige tiling and the cocoa coloured rattan sofa from being fully exposed to the heat. Raf's briefcase was clipped open with his papers scattered everywhere.

He was so immersed in paperwork, he hadn't noticed Ebén yet until he sat directly opposite him.

"Ebén, please sit" Raf lilted, taking a cigarette drag.

"Calm" he groaned apathetically, adjusting the crease in his pant leg, "What has got you so excited?"

"I was able to reconvene with the Board" he began excitedly as he constantly clicked his pen, "They've offered £275,000 per week with a goal bonus of 75K"

Even without using his words, Raf was still buzzing.

"How long's the deal?" he pressed, shielding his speckled face from the sunlight.

Raf said apprehensively, "Four years with an obligation to trigger a one year extension — "

Ebén sank in his seat, visibly irritated, "Swear?"

Raf read through his apathy, noticing immediately that Ebén wasn't sizing up with excitement like he was and would need a truckload of effort to convince his client to sign on the dotted line.

"Obviously, it's a long-term contract" he said, pointing out the obvious, "But you're 24, entering into the prime of your life and the Club want to do everything they can to retain you"

He handed over a bundle of papers for him to mull over with hope that he might change his mind.

He added, "I've also negotiated a 5% match bonus for every goal or assist you register, a Ballon D'or clause and 10% upsurge in image rights since you're an Adidas-sponsored athlete and we've got some really good commercial deals in the pipeline that we can be excited about. This is... a really good offer. An offer I don't think we should pass it up"

He drummed his fingers loudly on the table, "300K"

Raf looked bemused, "Pardon?"

"I want 300 on the table and two years, with an option to extend for a further year"

Raf hollered, "They'll walk, Ebén?"

"Raf, they can't hold us ransom" Ebén said finitely, "If they want to walk, then we'll let them"

Raf's eyes seemed disconcerted and puzzled as he rubbed on his eyebrow, "It's going to sever any good relations that we have with the Club, Ebén?"

"I don't care"

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A/N: Thanks again for regularly tuning into my chapters, for voting and leaving comments. It's somethin' I don't think I will ever get used to. I've also posted the translation in the comments too.