WARNING! THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS HARSH LANGUAGE AND IMPLIED SEX.

"You made it!"

Rob chewed on his lip as he eyed Calvin. "Yeah. I made it." He glanced around the bar. It was trendy. Warehouse chic or whatever they called it. Brick walls, exposed metal trusses with industrial style lighting and mismatched chairs and tables of stressed painted timber and iron.

There were more people than just his friends sitting at the table. At a quick look, they were Uni students or maybe business class yuppies. He wasn't in the mood to play nice guy, particularly when Genevieve was tucked in tight under the arm of some jerk, who had slicked back hair tied in a fucking man bun. She looked guilty. Fuck her. Fuck the world. It could go copulate with itself. "I'm gonna go get a drink," Rob said to no one in particular.

He sat at the bar, threw the rum and coke back in one hit, and then ordered another. He shouldn't have come here but he had no idea what else to do. The anger he'd been feeling since Becky had sent the text telling him she was breaking up with him, had slowly ebbed and flowed until now all he felt was rage. It had thickened and gelled when he'd seen the truth with his own eyes. Wrath was bubbling away like a cauldron of lava, dulling any other sense he had. Nothing seemed to matter. Becky was fucking someone else just as Sherry and Brett had predicted. Now, Genevieve was sitting in the arms of another. Did he care, since it'd been her who had triggered something in him, which made him lie to Becky? Rob downed the second drink and scoffed, "Nah..."

He ordered another drink, slung it down his throat, and then chuckled as he requested a fourth. Girls could go to hell. The only time he was ever going to go near another was when he wanted to fuck. Rob curled up his lip and sniggered. Yeah... that's what he'd do. Fuck. Right now. Sculling his drink, he thumped the glass down on the counter, and then turned to look at his friends and the other girls sitting with the group.

Sherry eyeballed him with a frown on her face. Jacinta glanced over, and then focused on the guy she was flirting with to then look back at Rob. A girl with a black bob gave him a simpering expression. Fuck that. No black bobbed bitches thank you very much.

Genevieve gave him an awkward look, and then quickly focused on a blonde girl who was sprouting rapid verbal at her from across the table. Rob wondered what Mister Man Bun would do if he went over and squeezed in nice and snug on the other side of Genevieve. He studied the guy. Would he put up a fight? Rob didn't think so. It looked like too much skin care products had been used on the dude's face to have him risk getting it bruised in a brawl over a piece of skirt.

Rob watched a girl with pink hair, sitting at the end of the table, angle her body at him as she crossed one long leg over the other. She pushed her tongue out and curled it down her chin before biting on the corner of her bottom lip to form a sexy smile. He chuckled; and the winner is...

Smiling, he crooked his finger at her. She slowly uncrossed her legs knowing he was watching. Shimmying her tight fitting skirt down as she stood, she then wiggled her butt, and sauntered toward him.

"Hey there," she cooed. "What are you doing over here by yourself?"

"Waiting for you." Rob took her by the hand and pulled her closer.

"I don't believe that." She tossed her head back so long waves of pink tinted hair slid behind her shoulder showing off her bare skin.

"It's true." Rob ran his finger over her exposed flesh into the dip of her collarbone and up her neck making her skin erupt in goose bumps. "You're beautiful," he whispered.

"Am I?"

"Oh... yeah..." Rob tweaked his eyebrows and nodded. "How about you and I go somewhere so we can fuck?"

*****

"Ah..." Rob groaned, pushed himself off the girl, and then collapsed on his back breathing heavily. He couldn't help but laugh at how easy that had been.

"What are you laughing about?"

He turned his head to look at her, and then chuckled again. He didn't even know her name. Rob swept her hair away from her eyes, cupped her face and grinned. "You."

"What's so funny about me?" She smiled and gave him a quizzical look.

"You're not funny, babe." Rob smirked and gave her cheek a light tap. "Stupid, maybe. Definitely easy." He patted her face again, grinned some more and stood up as he said, "But not funny." Rob watched her face drop as he drew on his pants. It was entertaining watching her try to analyse what he was saying.

"What do you mean?" She sat up stony faced, taking the covers with her.

"I'm saying you're easy." Rob sneered. He was just beginning to realise how naïve girls were. As he pulled on his shirt he added, "Don't you have any respect for yourself?"

"I have respect," she whined.

Rob moved around to her side of the bed, pushed her down, and then leaned over her with a hand either side of her head. "You don't even know my fucking name. I don't know yours but you let me fuck you anyway. I'm starting to think all females are brainless." The hot lava of anger in his gut coiled into a ball of abhorrence. "I could be a serial killer for all you know. What type of girl, accepts a guy she doesn't know, saying, let's go somewhere we can fuck, and she takes him home?"

She stared up at him glassy eyed, her face tense with fear but didn't speak.

On another day, in an earlier time in his life, Rob might have felt sorry for her but in the here and now, all he felt was disgust. To him the light of truth had been finally flicked on in his head. Girls were cold-hearted, lying, conceited bitches who respected no one. Not even themselves. "What?" he snarled. "Cat got your tongue."

*****

Rob walked the cold night with his hands in his pockets and hate in his heart. He scanned the crowd of people on the street. Drunk. Laughing. Guys hoping to get laid. He scoffed. Not hoping. Going to. Women were so fucking easy. He ran his eyes over the giggling, flirting girls in front of him. More fake tans, puffed up lips and extended eyelashes than he could count. None of it was real. Everyone was playing a game. Pretending to care. Professing to be looking for their soul mate. There's no such fucking thing, he wanted to shout at them.

Fun and friendly hadn't worked out the way he'd wanted it too. Time to try a new code.

Fuck and fight.

Now the fucking was out of the way Rob found what he was looking for. Man buns or dreadlocks were as good an excuse as any. Even better, dreadlocks in a man bun. He shouldered the guy and waited for him to turn around.

Time to fight.

What the hell is going on with Rob??

This is certainly a side we've never seen :(

Photo taken from Pin-interest.