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Broken promises

Broken promises

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5 Chapters
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"Broken Promises" is a tale of shattered trust and the enduring power of hope. It explores the complexities of relationships, the consequences of betrayal, and the arduous journey of forgiveness.

Chapter 1 The Beginning of Us

The city was alive that night, a symphony of laughter, clinking glasses, and the hum of neon lights casting soft glows on the wet pavement. It was the kind of night where anything felt possible, where strangers became lovers, and where love stories began.

Mitchell didn't expect his life to change when he stepped into The Blue Orchid, a bar tucked away in a quiet corner of downtown. He had only come because his best friend, Clara, had insisted.

"You need to get out more," she had scolded, dragging him through the doors.

"Clara, I'm perfectly fine staying in and watching bad reality TV."

"You're twenty-eight, not eighty. Come on, one drink won't kill you."

One drink had turned into two, then three. And then, somewhere between the rim of his glass and the slow jazz playing in the background, he saw him.

Michael stood near the bar, his fingers lazily drumming against the polished wood as he spoke to the bartender. He was effortlessly handsome, with tousled dark hair and a sharp jawline, the kind of beauty that felt both classic and unattainable. Mitchell wasn't usually the kind to be drawn in by strangers, but something about Michael made the air thinner, made his pulse drum against his skin.

Their eyes met-brief, curious. A flicker of recognition, though they were strangers.

"You're staring," Clara whispered, smirking.

"I am not."

"Oh, you so are. Go talk to him."

"Absolutely not."

"Why?"

"Because I'm terrible at flirting."

Clara rolled her eyes. "Good thing he's coming over here, then."

Mitchell's heart slammed against his ribs as Michael approached, a confident ease in his steps. He held a glass of whiskey in one hand, the dim lighting making the amber liquid shimmer.

"Mind if I sit?" Michael asked, his voice a deep, velvety timbre that sent an involuntary shiver down Mitchell's spine.

Mitchell cleared his throat. "Sure, but if you're trying to sell me something, I'm broke."

Michael chuckled. "Good to know. But no, just thought I'd say hello."

"Hello."

"Hello," Michael echoed, smiling.

It was the kind of beginning that should have been ordinary, and yet, it wasn't. They talked for hours-about nothing and everything. About how Mitchell worked in publishing but secretly wanted to write. About how Michael was a musician, a pianist who could never stay in one city too long because the world called to him.

Somewhere between the stories and the drinks, Mitchell forgot how to be careful. He forgot the walls he had built to keep himself from hoping too much.

By the time the bar was closing, Michael leaned in, his breath warm against Mitchell's ear.

"Let me take you out sometime."

Mitchell hesitated-not because he didn't want to, but because something about Michael felt dangerous in the best and worst ways.

"Alright," he said softly.

And just like that, the first chapter of them began.

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