Levan woke with a start, a stabbing pain at his temples and the remnants of last night's dreams fading into darkness. For a moment, he stayed still, eyes half-closed, trying to block out the rays of sunlight that poured through the silk curtains. His head was pounding, and the taste of bile mixed with vodka lingered at the back of his throat. Groaning, he rolled over, stretching across the oversized bed, his naked body tangled in fine Egyptian cotton sheets. He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand—11:00 AM.
Too early for anything, too late to stay in bed.
The villa Davan had gotten him was gorgeous—sprawling marble floors, columns like something ripped out of a Roman fantasy, and endless luxuries—but this morning, it felt like a prison. His mouth was dry, his skin clammy. Levan gritted his teeth and forced himself up. The pounding in his skull wouldn't let up without help, and he knew exactly where to find it.
Naked, he stumbled out of bed, feet padding against the cold floor as he made his way to the pristine bathroom. His reflection in the mirror was a reminder of last night's excesses—his black hair disheveled, dark circles under his sharp, green eyes, his lips dry and cracked. Still, he couldn't help but admire himself. Even hungover, he was stunning. At least that hadn't changed.
He tore open the bathroom cabinet, his hands trembling slightly, and there it was. The small, familiar bottle of Soma. His salvation. He quickly popped two pills into his mouth, swallowing them dry. The relief would come soon, washing away the headache, the shaking hands, and the buzzing anxiety that gnawed at the back of his mind. Everything will be fine, he told himself. Everything's always fine. But that voice, that nagging whisper in the back of his head, it wouldn't shut up. The pills would take care of that too. They always did.
Levan took a deep breath, glancing at his reflection again, watching as the Soma slowly kicked in. His heart rate steadied, the throbbing in his head subsided, and the familiar numbness settled over his body like a warm blanket. He ran a hand through his hair and smiled. Time to be perfect again.
After a long shower, he slipped into his luxurious walk-in closet, glancing over the racks of designer clothes. His fingers danced over the fabrics—silks, velvets, and the latest Eden fashions. Today was about making a statement, about reminding everyone who he was. Levan. The king of their pathetic world. He picked out a sleek, all-black ensemble, something that screamed money without trying too hard.
By the time he finished getting ready, the mask was back in place. The hungover, insecure mess from this morning was gone. In his place stood Levan, flawless, untouchable. The golden boy of Eden.
The villa staff had laid out breakfast, just as they always did. The scent of imported tropical fruit and freshly baked pastries filled the air, but Levan barely noticed. He sat down at the grand dining table, scrolling through his social feed while sipping on his usual green smoothie—detox, of course. His followers were waiting, and Levan never kept them waiting for long.
He casually posted a picture of himself, lounging at the table with his immaculate breakfast spread, the villa's stunning view in the background. The caption was effortless: "Another perfect morning in paradise. " Almost instantly, the likes and comments rolled in, the praise, the envy. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. They all want to be me, he thought. And they should.
But the rush of validation didn't last long. It never did. The fleeting high from the Soma had already begun to wear off, leaving him restless, hungry for more. Levan glanced around the villa, eyes falling on the staff as they silently moved through the space, cleaning, preparing his world for him. He scowled.
"Are you going to stand there gawking all day, or are you going to do your jobs?" His voice dripped with disdain. The maid, a girl no older than twenty, flinched, bowing her head quickly as she scurried away.
Levan sneered, returning to his phone. Weak, he thought. People like her don't deserve a second glance.
His day continued in a blur of shallow conversations, brunches at the trendiest spots in Eden, and endless shopping sprees. His friends—if you could even call them that—were just as vapid as he was. Sons and daughters of the most powerful people in Eden, each one competing for a spot in the spotlight, for a place at the top of the social hierarchy. But Levan was already there, and he wasn't about to let anyone take it from him.
Every interaction was a performance, every smile calculated. He laughed at the right moments, flirted with the right people, and made sure to keep his mask firmly in place. His world was one of luxury and excess, but beneath it all, there was an undercurrent of fear. The fear that one misstep, one slip, and the entire façade would come crashing down. He couldn't afford that. He had to stay on top.
By mid-afternoon, Levan felt the creeping restlessness return. His skin prickled with anxiety, his heart racing. He knew what he needed, but he couldn't take it in front of them. Never let them see you weak, he reminded himself. He excused himself, making up some flimsy excuse about needing to meet Davan. His so-called friends barely noticed.
Once he was alone in the sleek, dark bathroom of the latest luxury boutique, Levan fished the small Soma bottle out of his pocket, hands trembling. He popped another pill, his heart already calming as the chemicals began to work their magic. He leaned against the counter, staring at his reflection, watching the perfect version of himself come back into focus.
"You're fine," he whispered to himself, the familiar numbness taking over. "You're always fine."
---
That night, Levan made his grand entrance at Eden's newest, most exclusive club. His arrival was an event in itself, heads turning as he walked through the doors, dressed in a glittering black suit that clung to him like a second skin. The whispers followed him like a crown: Levan's here. The King of Eden. He basked in it, feeding off their admiration, their jealousy.
He found his usual table, surrounded by the same vapid faces, all pretending to care about each other while secretly hoping for their downfall. Levan played the game perfectly, laughing and toasting, making sure everyone knew he was the star of the night. But as the drinks kept coming, as the music pounded in his ears and the lights blurred, something dark gnawed at him.
Beneath the glamour, the attention, the endless validation, was that same hollowness. That same nagging question he couldn't shake: Is this all there is?
He downed another shot, the alcohol burning down his throat, chasing away the doubts, if only for a moment. He watched the people around him, his so-called friends, the same spoiled rich kids playing at life. They laughed, they danced, they flirted, but it was all so empty.
Levan's eyes drifted across the room, catching a glimpse of Davan in the VIP section, chatting with some business associate. His sugar daddy. His golden ticket. Does he really care about me? the thought whispered in his mind, uninvited. Do I even care about him? Levan took another drink.
The alcohol was starting to blur his thoughts, and he liked it that way. It made it easier to forget. Easier to ignore the cracks in his perfect life. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the flashing lights, the pulsing bodies on the dance floor, and wondered—not for the first time—if this was how it was all meant to be. If this was what happiness was supposed to feel like.
Before he knew it, Levan had blacked out, the world spinning into darkness. His last thought, faint and desperate, was one he'd never dare say aloud: What if I'm not enough?
But no one would ever see that side of him. Not while the mask was still in place.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: TODAY ONLY ONE CHAPTER I THINK I CAUGHT THE FLU AND I THINK IT'S TRUE WHAT THEY SAY ABOUT THE DIFFERENT BEHAVIOURS OF MEN AND WOMEN WHEN THEY GET SICK CAUSE ME AND MY MUM GOT THE SAME DISEASE AND MY MUM STILL DOING ALL THE HOUSEWORK WHEREAS I CAN'T EVEN GET UP FROM BED TO EAT THIS IS NOT FAIR I BLAME YOU EVOLUTION