Little Master and Little Idol

The young master doesn't know why everything has developed into this way, every word of the little idol is like a sharp knife piercing into his heart.

He felt a little uncomfortable in his stomach, and couldn't help arching his body.

"You...what do you mean? Fulfill your obligations, you mean you are forcing yourself and me these days..." The young master couldn't say the following words anymore, his stomach hurt even more , he had to pinch his palm hard to stay awake.

The little idol laughed, but still didn't turn to look at him, and said in a mocking tone, "Master Ji's question is funny, you asked me to sign the contract, I should naturally do what I should do."

The young master didn't speak, he cried.

He knew he shouldn't cry, and he didn't live up to it at all, but the tears fell silently as if uncontrollably.

The mood at this moment was even more uncomfortable than watching his mother die with his own eyes. His heart was in a ball, his stomach was convulsing, and his whole body was like a drowning person who urgently needed to be rescued.

Enduring the pain, he stood up, almost ran away from the little idol, opened the door and ran downstairs.

The little idol subconsciously stretched out his hand to pull him, but only touched the cold and empty air.

He looked at the wide open door, his outstretched hand froze in the air, and for a long while his fingertips curled up, his arms hanging limply by his side.

pull what?

He couldn't hold back anything.

It was before, and it is now.

The young master staggered and ran downstairs. Because he ran too fast, he fell hard, and the skin on his palms and face was worn away by the rough floor, and blood dripped out.

He ran downstairs and stood on the side of the road looking at the streets full of people coming and going, not knowing where he should go, and the people on the road kept looking at him.

He walked forward aimlessly, stomach acid suddenly flooded his throat, ran to the trash can by the side of the road, bent over and vomited out everything, until finally only retching remained.

The young master slowly squatted down, took out his mobile phone and dialed a number, choked up and asked, "Uncle Six, can you come pick me up?"

He left, and when he opened the door for the seventh time and there was still a deserted room waiting for him, the little idol finally realized the problem.

He doesn't want to see himself.

It's over between them.

The ending that he had expected early in the morning had been played out countless times in his dreams and in his heart. He even had a good draft of what he should do and say at the end, but this day came so unexpectedly that he didn't even say goodbye.

He slowly closed the door and walked into the room where the two of them used to share. He sat down against the edge of the bed, suddenly bent over and took the pillow on the inner side, and took a deep breath, the faint familiar smell of grapes made him a little Trance.

Not enough, no matter how it is not enough, the heart is empty, no matter how it can’t be filled, without that person’s smile, without that person’s temperature, the whole person is cold.

He put one leg up on the bed, leaned against the edge of the bed with his head down, opened the wine he just bought, and poured bottle after bottle into his stomach desperately.

......

"How much did you drink last night?" The manager opened the curtain of the room, and the sun covered the whole bed at once, and the person on the bed frowned and raised his hand to cover his eyes.

"Did you go there because of alcoholism?" The agent walked around the floor to pull him, with a complicated expression, trying to ease the atmosphere, "What, you're broken in love?"

The little idol didn't speak.

The manager sighed and threw the clothes to him: "Change clothes, there is a reception tonight, no matter what, let's get over this first."