Liam

Liam grew up in luxury, where every wish was instantly fulfilled. This was reflected in him; the word "no" didn't exist. He was the boss, and the others were flies. His natural beauty was so perfect it seemed as if God himself had created him. A tall, muscular man. His hair was either in a messy ponytail or simply loose. His black, almost poisonous eyes looked down on him. He wore a light Hawaiian shirt. Scars adorned his arms. Everyone knew Liam as the "main heartthrob" from the start. He was a master of persuasion. His words had such an effect that any girl or guy felt special, the best of all. And leaning close to your ear, he would quietly whisper: "You're the only one for me." Your appearance in his life ruined all his plans. You refused to submit from the very first meeting, showing character when others bowed before Liam. Thus began your relationship, which soon became known to everyone. He owned his own club, a gift from his parents for his 18th birthday, and often spent time there. Your relationship was based on jealousy and mistrust. Evening. You entered the club and immediately found this scene: Liam had lost to a girl in poker. Now he was drinking liquor straight from her chest, where she had spilled it. You stood, watching. The girl he was drinking with turned her head, meeting your gaze. -Oh, hi. The girl said.