Mafia’s obsession

“The biggest adventure you can take is to live the life of your dreams.”

– Oprah Winfrey

Evelyn Halls

Life is beautiful if you view it from the nineteenth floor. You will only see the beauty and lights hovering over the paths. Illuminating them, making them look precious and all that romanticized nonsense.

But sometimes that nonsense is exactly what we need to believe in. For example, I lost my parents in a fire when I was four. I was sent to an orphanage because I didn’t have any close relatives.

I was then adopted by my foster parents, who are now like the sun and moon to me. They never made me feel like I was adopted. My mom couldn’t get pregnant, but she had a mother’s love to give, and she gave it to me. So well, in fact, that when I left for college, I cried for three days straight.

Anyways, college life is said to be very stressful and depressing in books and movies, but I found it quite the opposite. Maybe because I love what I’m doing, and nobody is stopping me.

Additionally, I got a boyfriend who would die for me. Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration. I must not get paranoid. He really is a sweetheart. He never lets me feel sad or alone.

Walking down the streets, halls, and malls, I catch sight of so many heartbroken, depressed older people who just want some adventure before they leave this earth.

I sometimes think I’m already living the dream of so many. When I lost my parents, I just got new ones—who are more caring than anyone could ever ask for. When I was too shy to make friends, I got one out of nowhere. When I was alone and craving someone to love me, I got a boyfriend sweeter than sugar.

Some might say my life is perfect, that I have nothing to worry about.

But they’d be seriously wrong. I worry about a lot of things, baby.

Sometimes it feels like I’m just replacing people in my life. This happiness and comfort, which I’ve had for over 21 years, will someday be ripped away from me.

I have a lot of thanatophobia. But what’s the point of showing it, right?

“Hey, beautiful.” Andre greeted me, kissing my forehead. I told you he’s fucking sweet, and that’s what scares me sometimes.

“Hey, Boyfriend.” I chuckled slightly.

We take the same management class. Though we’re majoring in different fields, they’re pretty similar. I want to study online marketing, and Andre is more into business and management.

I do okay in all my classes, but this one—this is the only class where I’m so distracted by someone all the time that I don’t even know what Mr. Harold is talking about.

Andre swung his arm loosely around my waist and pulled me closer. We were playing on the paper like freaking three-year-olds. Let me tell you, Andre is a damn good manipulator. He cheats a lot in every game we play.

We were fighting quietly over who won, and Andre started taking advantage.

“Hey, stop. He’ll notice.” I whispered, signaling to Mr. Harold. Andre smirked, gave me creepy eyes, and kissed me again. Thank goodness Mr. Harold wasn’t looking, or we would’ve been screwed.

“I said stop.” I whispered sharply, widening my eyes and holding back my smile. He’s so handsome. Why, though?

“Would you like to come over later?” He whispered, rubbing his hand up my thigh.

I rolled my eyes. “Andre, we live together.”

“Oh, really?” He said seductively, running his hand higher up my skirt. My eyes went wide, and I bit my inner cheek, trying to stop his hand.

“Don’t, if you move your hand lower—everyone will notice.” He smirked.

“Then stop.” I breathed.

“Do you want me to?” He asked, his voice laced with mischief.

“What?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“What?” He whined, still not pulling his hand back. I scrunched my nose, signaling with my eyes that I’d kill him if he didn’t stop.

“No one’s watching, baby. Relax.” He said—not whispered, like, what the hell?

“I have eyes.” A voice from behind us whispered. Andre quickly took his hand away, and we turned to see Dylan grinning widely.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, still recovering from the shock.

“Watching you both.” He grinned wider.

“So, what do you want? Should we make you a porno?” Andre deadpanned, giving Dylan a cold look.

Dylan O’Connor. He’s my only friend, since middle school. He’s handsome. Well, kind of, because he’s rich. He has lots of girls. And he’s a total player and heartbreaker.

By the way, he’s been an irritant since we met. He used to annoy the hell out of me until we somehow became friends. After that, I lost my chance at a boyfriend. Whenever someone confessed to me, he’d deliberately shoo them away.

He’s done some ridiculous things. He’d say I don’t take baths. I have nasty habits. Even worse, he spread a rumor that I was sex-addicted and paid for sex.

I—Me—this girl who’s never been touched—sex-addicted? Please. Ugh.

He’s majoring in Fashion Design. He had to go away for a month, and in that time, I met Andre, and we became so close so quickly. Now we live together, and that pisses Dylan off.

“Porn? You and her?” He started laughing hysterically. “She doesn’t even know how to kiss properly, and you think she’ll sleep with you?” He snorted.

“Dylan!” I hissed.

“Well, isn’t that a delicious wrapped mystery for me? I think I’d enjoy it more if she doesn’t know how it works.” Andre now saw through Dylan and teased him more. “I can guide her. Besides, she’s a fast learner.” Andre whispered, smirking wider.

Dylan’s face dropped. The bell rang, and we got up to leave. Suddenly, Dylan grabbed my arm.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked, confused.

“We need to talk.” His tone was serious.

“What now?” I asked once we reached a restaurant.

“I don’t like him.” He said, folding his arms, his eyes sharp.

“Dylan, stop.” I glanced at the menu, pretending not to care.

“What? Evelyn, you don’t get it. He knows damn well you’ve never had a boyfriend, yet he still touches you like a creep.” He kept on talking like an overprotective best friend.

“I’d like pasta, and he’ll have the same. Thank you.” I ordered for both of us.

“Eve, are you even listening?” He looked at me like a kid whining for his mom’s attention.

“Dylan, you’re exaggerating. Andre is a nice person. He’s not like others. He takes care of me. He’s always there. He even cooks for me. I agree, I don’t have much experience, but don’t you think that’s because of certain people who’ve never let a guy near me?” I explained.

“That’s because I care about you and I don’t think anyone’s worthy of you yet. Especially not that asshole Andre.” He huffed, making an angry face.

“Okay, fine. Let’s just eat. I’m starving.” I said, giving him a soft smile.

He scoffed and dug into his food, not letting go. Dylan wouldn’t stop until I broke up with Andre. I don’t get it. Does he want me to die alone?

“By the way, why are you two living together?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What kind of question is that?” I chuckled, trying to brush it off.

“Eve, I know you. You wouldn’t just jump into a relationship and move in together without a reason.” He was too sharp.

“Well, you’re kind of right.” I tried to avoid the conversation.

“Eve?” His tone was dead serious.

“Dylan, it’s nothing really. You know me, right? I was just paranoid about something... surreal.” I huffed, steering the conversation away. Dylan would only make it worse if he knew the real reason.

“Eve, I won’t repeat myself.” His voice dropped to an icy level.

“Uhm, it’s just that... One day, I was walking home alone and it was really late. So, I felt like—don’t take it seriously—I felt like someone was stalking me.” As soon as I finished the sentence, his eyes grew darker.

“Someone WHAT?” He shouted, his voice loud enough to make everyone in the restaurant stop and stare.

“Calm down, Dylan. It was nothing. No one was actually following me.” I tried to shut him up awkwardly, as people around us began staring.

“Someone stalked you and you want me to calm down? Fuck with that, Eve.” He wasn’t anywhere near ready to shut his goddamn mouth.

I paid the bill, then grabbed his hand, pulling him toward his car. The whole way, he kept ranting about how unbelievably careless I was for not telling him.

“Evelyn, pack your stuff, and I’ll take you to my place,” he said suddenly.

“What? No.” I shot him an annoyed look.

“What do you mean no? Just pack your stuff, and we’re leaving. You’re not safe there. I can’t take any chances.” His words were firm, like he was trying to impose his own rules on me.

“Dylan. I’m not living alone in the apartment. I’m living with Andre. He’s there for the same reason, okay? And I can’t just tell him to leave because my guy best friend doesn’t like me being with my boyfriend. That doesn’t make any sense,” I told him, voice steady but cutting through the tension. He was shocked by what I said—I could see it in his face.

“Eve?” His voice dropped, barely above a whisper. I turned my head away, trying to block the weight of his gaze.

“Fine. Fucking fine. Live with that jerk. But if anything happens to you, I’m going to fucking kill him.” His voice was low, seething with anger, and his eyes locked onto mine with deadly seriousness.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, and then wrapped my arms around him in a tight hug. At the end of the day, he was the only one I could rely on in this city.