Unproven Chapter Twenty Two "And So the Game Begins"

If you're loved by someone, you're never rejected, decide what to be and GO BE IT
-The Avett brothers

Recommend Reading Introduction to Unproven

DEFINITELY READ Prologue

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six

Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen Chapter 20 Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty Two

A week later Grayson lay on his bed staring at the ceiling with an unpleasant gnawing in his gut. His father had texted him, wanted to see him. He knew what that meant; he’d neglected to check in with him for the past seven days, and his dad would want to hear the finalized plan on how he intended to tear out Ary’s soul and mangle it beyond recognition. He swallowed with difficulty as the clawing sensation intensified.

He’d done it many times without so much as a twinge of guilt before, during, or after. First he’d charm the girl into falling hard then once he learned who they thought they were and what they believed, about life, people, religion and so on, he would subtly and methodically manipulate them. By the time he was done their entire worldview would be upside down, so when he finally dropped them they'd have nothing to fall back on, generally resulting in trashed self-worth and ‘broken hearts’.

From an early age he’d been taught that if he could drastically alter someone’s internal belief system it meant they had no true convictions, no actual substance, therefore, the fault lied with them. And according to James Teller the majority of the population fell into that category- A herd of sheep put there for the strong to use. Slaves, nothing more. An individual of substance and strength never allows anyone to affect who they are. We are the masters Grayson, we hold ourselves to a higher standard and we do this in part by learning to recognize those who do not.

It made sense, particularly if you convinced yourself you were doing them a favor. Once they were torn down they had the potential to rebuild, to find the substance they otherwise lacked. But he had kept track of those whose lives he’d overturned and none of them had begun to rebuild, let alone become stronger for it. Two of them had even gone as far as making suicide attempts, and one was still residing in a mental institution. Which he felt proved his father’s point-if they had an ounce of true self-worth then one individual’s influence should not have been strong enough to cause that kind of mayhem, especially in twelve-weeks-time. It was because they’d proven to be so fucking weak that he’d lost the small shred of doubt he’d had in his father’s system.

He thought back over his list of hit and runs which he placed under one of two headings: SGF's, or seasonal girlfriends, and TGF's, for those of considerably shorter duration, or temporary to be specific. The TGF's were usually girls who very obviously lacked substance and intelligence, but were more than willing to share his bed.
Generally he would break their hearts in two weeks or less. There was even a girl he'd met at summer camp a couple years ago, Jennifer Something Or Other, who had ‘fallen in love with him’ in less than twenty-four hours, whose life he'd managed to devastate in under four days.

As for his seasonal girls there were a total of eight, beginning with Tara in the fall of his freshman year. Two of which, Jessie and Carrie, he’d genuinely liked in the beginning, and they’d been the worst in the end, Carrie in particular, partially due to a sense that they’d failed him. He wasn’t the sadistic bastard they believed him to be, he wanted them to rise from the ashes. Or he had at one point anyway, back when he thought it was possible for anyone to better themselves. Experience had taught him otherwise, and not just because of the pathetic string of females he’d left behind. The evidence of weak-willed, feeble-minded, pitiable people that populated the planet was everywhere.

Carrie had been the final nail in that coffin. He'd begun seeing her in early December of the previous year, as she’d initially fulfilled his requirements-attractive, fairly intelligent with a list of ideals that she'd frequently voiced, in addition to being a lot of fun. He hadn't even begun to test her when she'd failed a month into their relationship by fucking a guy at a college party that Brooke and Lisa were also attending. The pictures of her giving the guy a lap-dance while he'd licked alcohol off her tits had circulated for weeks, as had the insinuation that Grayson must be lacking in the bedroom for her to have strayed. If it had happened at a point after psychologically beating her down he could have let it go…Well not entirely, he did have a reputation to protect, but he certainly would not have taken revenge quite as far as he had. Within a month not a soul in school had dared speak to her for fear of retribution. He had enlisted Dori, Brooke, Lisa, Kara, Mark, and Gary in that campaign, though Carrie’s own parents had had a hand in her demise when they’d forced her to finish out the school year after Dori had kindly explained to them what had transpired, with pictures as backup. Apparently the Kellerman's had also felt she needed to be punished for being a dirty little whore.

She'd tried to apologize- on her knees no less- blaming the alcohol, but it was a futile attempt that had ended with her sobbing uncontrollably from the verbal abuse he'd unleashed. It was by far the cruelest he'd ever been, which was saying something. Last he'd heard her parents had decided to enroll her in a private Catholic School for her senior year. Merciful of them as he would not have let up, and she'd made several suicide threats as it was.

He hadn't pursued anyone the last half the year, though he'd had a few TGF's from other schools. Instead he'd begun testing everyone in his radius, subtly and often not so subtly, and the results were enough to forfeit any lingering hope he'd held that there existed all but the tiniest percentage of those who had true character. Or intelligence. Or attempted to understand themselves let alone others.

And Ary, she would be no different. He had thought he was no longer capable of liking someone as much as he did her, but knowing she would fall? He fucking hated her for it.

Innocence. Trust. Optimism. Integrity. By the time he was done she would be so jaded she would probably become a strung out whore. Lovely.

He dragged himself to his feet and made his way down to the study, game plan ready.

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