"Oh? You don't see them? Look here..."
Layla removed her hands from Axel's face, leaving him frozen like a deer caught in headlights, his eyes locked onto her every move.
She slowly and sensually brought her hands to her breasts, and as she squeezed, Axel's nose nearly exploded with an imaginary nosebleed. Her boobs spilled out between her fingers like they were trying to escape, too much for her hands to handle.
But his momentary amusement quickly turned into confusion as she continued her theatrical display.
She squeezed her breasts hard enough to leave finger marks on her milky skin, then pinched the area above her areolas, red marks appearing like badges of dishonor. It was an Oscar-worthy performance, but Axel was too baffled to applaud.
"Your friend is literally impotent... I think he has erectile dysfunction or something. Or maybe he's gay... I mean, come on, am I not hot enough? Aren't I hot, Axel? You tell me. You've seen my breasts now; don't you think I'm a hot lady?"
Axel's brain was doing cartwheels trying to process the bizarre situation. Layla's words hung in the air like a particularly pungent fart, and Axel couldn't help but think,
'What the fuck just happened?'
Layla began scratching her breasts with her nails, her actions setting off all kinds of alarm bells in Axel's head. His eyes widened in horror, feeling like he was watching a car crash in slow motion.
"What... what are you doing?!"
He blurted out, stepping forward to grab her hands, desperate to stop her before things got even weirder. She met his gaze with a wicked smile that sent a shiver all the way down to his butt crack.
"Oh, now you're touching me, huh? Maybe I should've come to you when I didn't feel appreciated, huh? Should've run into your arms when Brent started hitting on me?"
Layla cackled like a witch in a Hollywood horror flick, having her big, diabolical moment.
Axel glanced down and realized with horror that his hands were wrapped around hers, the back of his fingers inadvertently sinking into her breasts.
Horrified, he yanked his hands back as if they'd been burned, stumbling a step back and nearly losing his balance on a rogue smear of poop.
"Yo-you're crazy... you're fucking crazy..."
He stammered, slipping and landing hard on his ass, his dignity slipping away just as quickly. But he couldn't take his eyes off her, not daring to look away from the human train wreck in front of him.
The situation was spiraling out of control, like a storm brewing into a full-blown hurricane. Axel cursed his luck, knowing things were about to get even more fucked up, and fast.
"Hehehehehehahaha..."
Layla's cackle echoed like a deranged banshee, her laughter dripping with malevolence. She began shaking her body in a way that made Axel's stomach churn, as if she was some kind of twisted burlesque performer.
"I'll tell you something, alright? Something I haven't even told your dear friend. Though I suspect that fat bastard would die of a heart attack if he heard what I'm about to say..."
Layla's hands roamed over her breasts, climbing up to her neck where she began scratching, leaving angry red marks on her alabaster skin.
Axel gulped, glancing back at the bathroom, now eerily silent. He wanted to stop her from whatever she was about to spill, to protect his already depressed friend, but he knew he needed to hear it.
The truth might sting like a bitch, but it was better than clinging to the lies of a manipulative whore.
Layla stopped scratching and gave him a sadistic smile, her eyes glinting with twisted delight as she opened her mouth to reveal the bombshell.
"The truth is, it was all a dare..."
"...huh?" Axel's jaw dropped.
"A dare, Axel. A fucking dare," Layla purred, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "Just a bunch of college assholes playing around, seeing who could take things the furthest. Light jokes that escalated into this..."
She giggled, a sound that grated on Axel's nerves like nails on a chalkboard. Her laughter grew louder as she slowly began to pull down her summer dress, revealing more than Axel ever wanted to see.
"...Wh-what dare?"
Axel's voice was shaky, not because of the skin show but because of the words coming out of her mouth. He needed answers, and he was hell-bent on getting them.
"Axel, you actually think someone like me—hotter than any chick in this shithole neighborhood, maybe even the whole fucking country—would stoop to dating a fat ass like Kris? If it wasn't for Christina and the others, I wouldn't have had this much fun these last two months."
She pulled her dress down to her belly button, flaunting her toned abs and deep navel like some twisted goddess. Axel was too numb to react, his eyes fixed on her as if in a trance, but his mind was spinning.
"Do you really think I can't get a prince charming? That my only option is that fat, mother-fucking dumbass who, by the way, killed his own mom during childbirth?"
Her smile turned wicked, but Axel just stood there, a rock in the storm of bullshit she was spewing. All he could see was the ugly truth laid bare, as naked as Layla was trying to be.
"People think I was sticking around for money, but come on, even a street beggar has more cash than that fatass!"
Layla sneered.
"He can't even fill his bottomless pit of a stomach, let alone spoil me. The guy's got less stamina than an asthmatic sloth, and don't get me started on his 'strength.' If he ever tried to touch me, I might've entertained the fat fuck for a laugh, but nope, he's all about that pure, chaste, 'fucking' love..."
Axel watched in disbelief as Layla spiraled further into her tirade, her face contorting with a bizarre mix of malice and amusement. To think he'd once thought of her as some kind of angel, a beacon of beauty and grace.
But seriously, who would date a guy like Kris? Even Kris himself had been skeptical when she first showed interest. It seemed harmless enough to give it a shot, but now, hearing her spew venom like a deranged viper, Axel realized just how deep her deceit ran.
This wasn't an angel; she was the devil in Prada, and nobody had seen it coming.
In the midst of his deep thinking, Axel suddenly felt something soft and fluffy in his palm. It was so soft he pressed on it involuntarily, like a kid squeezing a stress ball.
Reality slapped him in the face when he saw Layla kneeling right before him, her hands guiding his hand onto her breast while he had been lost in thought...