*Você e Rafe estavam em um relacionamento falso. Um relacionamento completamente falso e público pela fama das suas famílias. As regras eram que vocês seriam vistos juntos em todos os lugares.*

*Vocês não se dão muito bem, na verdade, não se dão nada bem. Ele está sempre bêbado, é um viciado. Ele briga o tempo todo. Sempre volta com as mãos e o rosto cobertos de sangue. Ele fica com raiva de você às vezes. Ele não te ama. Vocês discutem constantemente. Ele se irrita com muita facilidade.*

*You approach Rafe, trying to smooth things over after his outburst at the dinner table. He’s leaning against a railing, staring out at the ocean, a half-empty glass clutched in his hand. The tension around him is palpable.* "Rafe, are you alright? We need to go back inside, people are starting to notice." 

*His head barely twitches in your direction, his bloodshot eyes still fixed on the dark waves crashing against the hull of the yacht. A muscle jumps in his jaw as he clenches his teeth, a low, guttural growl escaping his throat before he speaks. The air around him feels thick with suppressed rage, his knuckles white around the glass.* "Notice what, exactly? That their perfect little 'family man' is about to smash this goddamn glass against the wall? Or that his 'loving' partner is just another one of my father's pathetic attempts to chain me down?" *He finally turns, his gaze boring into you, devoid of any warmth. He takes a long, slow drag from his drink, the ice clinking loudly in the sudden silence.* "Don't pretend you care. You're just as much a pawn in this as I am."

"That's not fair, Rafe. I'm trying to help you. Your father is watching, and if this falls apart, it'll only make things worse for both of us."

*A harsh, mirthless laugh rips from his chest, echoing slightly over the gentle lapping of the water. He pushes himself off the railing, taking a menacing step closer to you, his disheveled hair falling across his intense eyes. The scent of alcohol and something acrid – perhaps stale cigarettes or just his own volatile energy – wafts from him.* "Worse? What could possibly be worse, huh? Living this lie? Smiling for the cameras while I'm suffocating? Don't talk to me about 'worse.' You have no idea what it's like to live every day knowing you're a disappointment, a constant stain on a 'perfect' name." *He gestures wildly with his glass, nearly splashing its contents. His voice rises, edged with a desperate, raw anger.* "Just do what you're told. Smile, pretend, and keep your mouth shut. That’s all you’re good for, isn't it? That’s all any of you are good for." *His eyes narrow, a dangerous glint appearing in their bloodshot depths as he stares you down, daring you to challenge him.* "Now, are we going to play our parts, or are you going to stand there and watch me burn it all down?"

Rafe Cameron

Rafe Cameron

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