Max wasn't my first love but he was my most loved.

Max wasn't my second love but he was the one I loved the most.

Max wasn't even my third love yet I could envision a life with him.

Max had this charming sweetness to him that could make my heart stop instantly along with that dorky gap tooth smile, his eyes were deep and dark like the finest chocolate and his skin which was decorated with vitiligo was like a renaissance painting. He was what I would describe to be art. Words to describe Max would be caring, thoughtful, determined, flirty, charming, artsy and just all around wonderful. He was a beautiful man that I wish I had met sooner in much better circumstances. But regardless of how we met I'm thankful for the outcome. I think I can say I genuinely fell in love with Max Goof with my whole heart. That little shit stole it of course.

ALSO! Did you guys know that Max Goof is a fucking liar? All this time I thought he was way shorter than me but it's because this motherfucker SLOUCHES! I noticed it when we were on a walk and I told him to fix his posture because it'll affect his spine long term. HE STOOD STRAIGHT AND NOW HES AN INCH TALLER THAN ME? Of course that kind of hurt my ego so I never asked him to fix his posture ever again. He caught on sadly so he continuously fixes his posture next to me to tease and it pisses me off.

Ever since my leg had healed we've been going on a bunch of dates, either quick runs at target, skate park, restaurant, carnival, arcade, movies or even the circus which was my person favorite. I've loved the circus ever since I was a kid it was amazing in my opinion. Today we went on a date to a art museum with genuine art. I apologize but I'm my opinion I'm not a fan of modern art. One piece that did catch my attention was a woman posing for a portrait. She had a head dress on and a necklace with a B in the middle. I looked at the artist statement and read the name Anne Boleyn and recognized her immediately after. I've always been a huge history buff and I adored her story. I felt a little stupid for not recognizing her immediately but regardless, her story was always so extremely heart breaking to me but I couldn't help but connect hers with my mothers. Them both going through a miscarriage and their husbands being abusive pieces of shit only demanding a son to become their heir. It pissed me off beyond belief.

Max wrapped his arm around my shoulder and asked "you okay babe? What's wrong?" As I replied "nothing, I just really like this painting" to which he looked and cocked a brow "who is she?" He asked as I started info dumping all about her life story. He smiled and listened. He watched me get so hyped on talking about it and as we continued he kept asking me who every historically figure was. I don't know why but I caught on later that he liked to listen to me getting excited about stuff. He told me that and it made my heart rush. I hugged him and kissed his lips out in front of the museum with the biggest smile. He always made my day with these simple acts.

As weeks passed life was looking up until thanksgiving break had eventually arrived. Max and I had made the plan for me to stay by Max's place for the week and I was whole heartedly going to. That was until school let out and a limo had pulled up front to the Gamma house. I walked out expecting to see Max as my heart dropped. I dropped my items as four big body guards ran over and dragged me into the limo with my items and threw me inside and my items into the trunk. I felt utter rage knowing that I was being forced against my will to go back home. Not only that but when I arrived home I saw my father who extended his hand out. "Phone, immediately" "what?" I said confused "give me your phone" my father demanded "what the fuck? No! I'm not doing that!" I replied. "Alright then" he said as one body guard restrained me out of no where and the other patted me down, finding me phone and giving it to my father. " HEY!" I shouted trying to break free as my father took the phone and placed it on the counter. He opened the drawer below it, taking out a hammer and smashing it into pieces. I stared in shock... how the fuck am I supposed to contact Max?! What the hell!! "Now....." my father said and pulled out a scale " let me see if you've fixed anything. Step on the scale" he demanded. I hesitated for a moment. Max and I had been working on my eating disorder so I had gained a bunch of weight. I hesitantly stepped on the scale and I could feel my fathers eyes glaring at what it would say. When it rung to a 180 considering I'm 5'10 I thought I was in the clear since that's the good average weight for my height and sex. But my father didn't approve. He scoffed and rolled his eyes "I've raised a pig... how disgusting." He shook his head.

He pulled me to the center of the room where a stumbled a little because of how harsh his pull was "you know the drill. Strip" he demanded. This part always made me uncomfortable. I always felt so dehumanized. He had me strip down to my boxers and measure everything on my body so we knew what I should focus on when building a work out routine to keep a good figure. When the process was finished he recorded everything in his note book. "Get dressed." As I followed and he sat me down in a chair after. He inspected my face, oral health, hair, symmetry "hm...." He squinted looking for any signs of imperfection. " you have eye bags. Your new scheduled bed time is 8:30 pm sharp. You wake up and go for a jog first thing in the morning which you wake up 6:30, not 6:31. I will make you a designated diet and work out routine. Do I make myself clear?" He said in a demanding tone. I nodded looking down "yes father..." I didn't have a say in anything.

And that's how it was going to be.

I had skipped lunch everyday. Breakfast was mandatory which was a single boiled egg cut up into a salad with water. A snack would be a handful of trail mix and for dinner it would be some small portioned cuisine that would never satisfy my taste. Dinner was never later than 6:30 pm considering I couldn't eat after 7 o clock pm. I was assigned a trainer to help me with my work outs and made sure I completed the task everyday, three times a day and the next day I was much more sore than the last.

Then in the middle of the day my "breaks" consisted of apprenticing my father with his work and going with him to attend business meetings. But that wasn't even the worst of it.....

Because on the second day of break I had met Claire's parents....