Categories > Celebrities > 30 Seconds to Mars > The Secret is Out
The shifting weight beside him made him smile in his slumber. Stretching in bed and with his eyes still closed he turned his body around giving his back to the covered window. He slowly opened his eyes; the tanned skin, the petite, naked body and the honey blonde hair widened his smile.
“Come back to bed, Audrey.” He claimed, his vice still tinged with slumber.
“It’s Laurie, you silly.” The girl turned half body towards Jared and the smile disappeared from Jared’s lips. “You’ve been calling me that way since yesterday night, when we met.”
The now unknown girl crawled seductively onto the bed towards Jared, her tanned skin glowing in the morning light. She let every inch of her body being exposed to him and he remembered why he had picked her among the plenty of girls that sure were wherever he had gone last night. She looked exactly like his former lover: the skin, the honey blonde hair, the size, the features of her face, her voice, goddammit, even her name was quite similar.
A dull rising ache began to creep up to Jared’s head as he closed his eyes in annoyance and let his back fall back to the mattress. His left hand traveled to his head and placed his thumb and forefinger on the bridge of his nose.
Soon he felt the girl’s warm body upon his naked skin; her lips leaving a moist and sloppy trail of kisses down his neck to his chest. He grunted in discomfort, but the girl smiled against his skin, misunderstanding the meaning.
“You like it, huh?” she asked as she straddled him.
Jared could feel how ready she was for him through the thin white bed sheet but that didn’t wrench any reaction from him, any pleasant reaction anyway.
He placed his hands onto her hips and sitting upright, he pushed her aside; if he was gentle or not, he didn’t care.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dory, Courtney, Chloe or whatever her name was whined.
Jared sat on the edge of the bed and raked a hand through his tousled hair. He sighed.
“You should get dressed.” He suggested, not caring to give his face to the confused girl. He stood up, wrapping the bed sheet around his skinny hips and headed towards the bathroom. “You can use the phone to get yourself a cab.” He said coldly to then lock himself in the bathroom. Not even one glance was shot in her direction.
He cursed himself in his mind over and over again. He felt stupid for having brought this girl to his house because she looked exactly the girl he was trying to forget about. He didn’t even remember if they had had a good time at least. He figured out he hadn’t, because he didn’t remember a goddamn thing. The only proofs of his messing up were the naked girl in his bedroom and the dull growing headache.
“Asshole!” he heard from the other side of the door and the taping of heels in the wooden floor and the stairs made him aware that she was fortunately gone.
He took a quick shower, cleaning the scent of that woman away from his body. He felt hung over and the taste of alcohol and that woman’s lips was still on his tongue.
He decided to wear tight black jeans and the famous «too much pressure» torn-up white t-shirt of his. He slipped in his boots, keeping the zippers of them down. He tied his wet hair into a messy bun at the nape of his neck.
He looked himself at the mirror and, for the first time, he felt afraid of what he saw reflected in there. He was way too skinny; his black jeans weren’t so tight anymore, his shirt looked two sizes more than his, when it normally fitted perfectly. His arms were so thin that he dreaded they would break with a not-so-tight grip. His face shocked him the most: his sharp cheekbones and sunken eyes made him look like a zombie. It was the first time he actually realized how much of a wreck he was and he was willing to change that. If she had moved on, well, he would, too. He could move on. He was Jared Freaking Leto.
But it’s much easier said than done.
“Come back to bed, Audrey.” He claimed, his vice still tinged with slumber.
“It’s Laurie, you silly.” The girl turned half body towards Jared and the smile disappeared from Jared’s lips. “You’ve been calling me that way since yesterday night, when we met.”
The now unknown girl crawled seductively onto the bed towards Jared, her tanned skin glowing in the morning light. She let every inch of her body being exposed to him and he remembered why he had picked her among the plenty of girls that sure were wherever he had gone last night. She looked exactly like his former lover: the skin, the honey blonde hair, the size, the features of her face, her voice, goddammit, even her name was quite similar.
A dull rising ache began to creep up to Jared’s head as he closed his eyes in annoyance and let his back fall back to the mattress. His left hand traveled to his head and placed his thumb and forefinger on the bridge of his nose.
Soon he felt the girl’s warm body upon his naked skin; her lips leaving a moist and sloppy trail of kisses down his neck to his chest. He grunted in discomfort, but the girl smiled against his skin, misunderstanding the meaning.
“You like it, huh?” she asked as she straddled him.
Jared could feel how ready she was for him through the thin white bed sheet but that didn’t wrench any reaction from him, any pleasant reaction anyway.
He placed his hands onto her hips and sitting upright, he pushed her aside; if he was gentle or not, he didn’t care.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dory, Courtney, Chloe or whatever her name was whined.
Jared sat on the edge of the bed and raked a hand through his tousled hair. He sighed.
“You should get dressed.” He suggested, not caring to give his face to the confused girl. He stood up, wrapping the bed sheet around his skinny hips and headed towards the bathroom. “You can use the phone to get yourself a cab.” He said coldly to then lock himself in the bathroom. Not even one glance was shot in her direction.
He cursed himself in his mind over and over again. He felt stupid for having brought this girl to his house because she looked exactly the girl he was trying to forget about. He didn’t even remember if they had had a good time at least. He figured out he hadn’t, because he didn’t remember a goddamn thing. The only proofs of his messing up were the naked girl in his bedroom and the dull growing headache.
“Asshole!” he heard from the other side of the door and the taping of heels in the wooden floor and the stairs made him aware that she was fortunately gone.
He took a quick shower, cleaning the scent of that woman away from his body. He felt hung over and the taste of alcohol and that woman’s lips was still on his tongue.
He decided to wear tight black jeans and the famous «too much pressure» torn-up white t-shirt of his. He slipped in his boots, keeping the zippers of them down. He tied his wet hair into a messy bun at the nape of his neck.
He looked himself at the mirror and, for the first time, he felt afraid of what he saw reflected in there. He was way too skinny; his black jeans weren’t so tight anymore, his shirt looked two sizes more than his, when it normally fitted perfectly. His arms were so thin that he dreaded they would break with a not-so-tight grip. His face shocked him the most: his sharp cheekbones and sunken eyes made him look like a zombie. It was the first time he actually realized how much of a wreck he was and he was willing to change that. If she had moved on, well, he would, too. He could move on. He was Jared Freaking Leto.
But it’s much easier said than done.
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