Fake Dating The Bad Boy Chapter 34: Too Loud

Justin’s POV:

I left Army standing there, and I didn’t look back.

Didn’t need to.

Her words had already word their way in.

I made it out of the building and into the school courtyard before I realized my hands were shaking. My fists were clenched so tight I could feel the blood pulsing between my knuckles.

I couldn’t focus. Not on the students buzzing around . Not on the noise. Not on the damn sun that felt too bright against my skin. I couldn’t think straight. Everything around felt too much, like the world had turned up the volu and brightness all at once just to push over the edge.

I needed out.

I needed silence.

I needed—

"Hey Justin!" soone called behind , a classmate—maybe one of those guys who thought we were cool now because June hung off my arm.

I didn’t respond. I just kept walking, straight out the gates. No bus. No car. Just my feet pounding the pavent like maybe if I kept walking fast enough, I could leave the noise behind.

But it followed.

The thoughts.

Her words.

"She prefers older n."

What the hell did that even an?

And why did part of believe it?

God, I hated that.

Hated that a single sentence from soone like Army could crack the foundation of what little sanity I had left. That I didn’t imdiately laugh and walk away like I should have. That part of hesitated.

Why?

Because of the way June looked on Sunday night?

Because of how fast she’d put the mask back on Monday morning?

Because she hadn’t said a single damn word about the weekend?

Because she looked relieved to leave?

I kicked a loose rock into the road. It skidded across the pavent like it had sowhere better to be. Lucky bastard.

I shouldn’t be this mad. We weren’t even a real couple. We agreed to fake it. Just for show. Just for school.

But then again—she slept in my bed. She cried in my arms. She clung to like I was the only thing keeping her from shattering into pieces.

And I let myself believe—for just one fucking second—that maybe I mattered.

Stupid.

So fucking stupid.

I took a sharp turn into the alley behind the corner store. The one where no one usually ca. The one where the shadows were thicker and the silence hung heavy enough to feel like a blanket.

That’s when the voices ca back.

Not a whisper this ti.

A chorus.

"Told you not to care."

"You’re getting soft."

"She’s using you. Just like before."

"She left you once. She’ll do it again."

"Shut up," I muttered, gripping the back of my neck, nails digging into my skin.

"You let her in. Now look at you."

"Weak. Pathetic."

"She’s not yours. Never was."

"She goes ho to him."

"SHUT UP!"

I slamd my fist against the brick wall. Hard enough to split the skin. Pain jolted up my arm like a spark—but it was good. It was real. Sothing to grab onto. Sothing to focus on that wasn’t them.

The blood sared against the wall. I stared at it for a second, breathing hard.

Red always looked brighter when you were this angry.

I slid down to the ground, back against the wall, head tilted back, eyes closed. I tried to breathe, tried to steady myself. But the thoughts wouldn’t stop circling.

What if Army was right?

What if there was sothing happening?

What if this whole thing—the way June avoids her house, the way she never invites over, the way she practically runs ho and goes dead silent until school—what if all of that wasn’t random?

What if there was sothing darker underneath?

Sothing she couldn’t talk about?

What if there was sothing happening?

What if this whole thing—the way June avoids her house, the way she never invites over, the way she practically runs ho and then goes silent until school—what if it wasn’t random at all?

What if she really did like older n?

What if while I was losing sleep over her, she was out there doing whatever—or whoever—she wanted without a second thought about ?

What if all that softness over the weekend, all that clinging and crying and curling into like I was so safe space—was just part of her ga?

Fake like everything else.

Fake like our relationship was supposed to be... except I’d been the idiot who started to believe it might be more.

God. What a joke.

A sharp pressure twisted in my chest, like I couldn’t breathe properly. I wasn’t even sure if it was rage or heartbreak—maybe both. My hands balled into fists again, tighter this ti. I could feel the scab on my knuckles tear back open. Good. Let it bleed.

She played .

I was just another stupid boy on her leash—no different from Bart. No different from whoever the hell she was seeing Tuesdays and Thursdays.

I laughed—dry and bitter. Of course it was on a schedule. Even her secrets were neat and polished and tucked away like her fucking cheerleader smile.

The voices in my head started up again—low at first, but gaining power, feeding off my frustration like wolves scenting blood.

"She used you."

"You thought you mattered. She laughed at you."

"You’re just the next na on her list."

I slamd my back against the alley wall, the brick scraping my shoulder blades through my shirt. I didn’t care.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to break sothing.

I wanted to confront her. Demand answers. Ask her if any of it ant anything. But I already knew what she’d say. She’d flash that golden-girl grin and shrug it off.

I pulled out my phone, thumb hovering over her na.

I wanted to text her.

I wanted to tear her apart with words, accuse her, make her feel sothing. Make her admit it.

But I didn’t.

What would be the point?

If she cared, she would’ve said sothing by now. She wouldn’t be out there flipping her hair and giggling with the cheer squad like the weekend never happened.

She wouldn’t be hiding.

So I didn’t text.

Didn’t call.

Didn’t scream.

I just stood there in the alley, fists bleeding, heart burning, the voices coiling in my head like snakes, whispering one thing over and over again—

"Find out. You have to know."

Arrgh.

I couldn’t take it anymore. The school, the stares, her—pretending like nothing happened, like I didn’t happen.

The voices were loud, too loud.

So I went to the one place that’s ever given peace—Red Bull Club.

Where nas don’t matter.

Where no one asks questions.

Where you can be anyone you want for the night.

I walked past the bouncer without a word—he knew . He always did. The stamp on my wrist from last week hadn’t even fully faded. I flashed it anyway. He didn’t care. This wasn’t the kind of place that cared.

The bass was already thumping when I stepped inside, heavy enough to shake the bones in your chest and make you forget your own na. Exactly what I needed. Exactly what I ca for.

Smoke curled in the air, thick with perfu and sweat and heat. Bodies moved in flashes of red light, grinding, dancing, forgetting. I slid into the crowd, letting the beat replace my pulse, letting the lights blur the edges of reality.

The voices in my head slowed.

Not silent. Never silent. But they grew distant. Like they were watching from behind a soundproof glass wall.

Good.

I grabbed a drink from the bar—didn’t even ask what it was. Just downed it. Fire slid down my throat. Perfect. Burn it all.

I found a dark corner, leaned back against the wall, and let the club swallow .

Here, I wasn’t Justin, the broken ex-test subject with bleeding knuckles and a fake girlfriend.

I could be anyone.

A stranger.

A ghost.

A god.

Girls passed by and threw glances. So smiled. So licked their lips. I ignored them all. I wasn’t here for that. I wasn’t here to be seen.

I was here to disappear.

But still... her voice. Her laugh. Her goddamn scent—still in my head like she lived there rent-free. Still tangled in my sheets, in my skin, in the places I thought were mine.

I shut my eyes, let the music pulse behind my eyelids, louder than her voice. Louder than their voices.

"She lied."

"She’s using you."

"Go to that address. You know you want to."

I clenched my jaw, jaw tight enough to ache.

I told myself I didn’t care. I told myself I’d let it go.

But I couldn’t.

Not when she chose him. Not when she smiled at and lied.

And not when I cared more than I should’ve.

I pulled out my phone again. No ssages. Not from her. Not from anyone. Good. Let it stay that way.

But my thumb hovered.

Not on her na this ti.

On the ssage from Army.

The address.

Lakeside Avenue 24.

I stared at it until the letters blurred. My stomach twisted with sothing ugly and heavy.

Was it jealousy? Betrayal? Or was I just a glutton for punishnt?

Maybe all three.

Maybe I was just weak. Or maybe I was finally doing what the voices always whispered:

"Truth hurts. But lies destroy."

I downed another drink. My second. Maybe third. Didn’t matter.

I was going. Not because I believed Army. Not really.

But because a part of did.

Because June made feel sothing. And if she was playing ...

I needed to see it for myself.

Even if it ruined .

Even if it turned out everything we shared was a fucking lie.