Summary:

I'm in the business of misery.

No, really, I am.

I break hearts for a living.

My usual clients are angry ex-girlfriends who want their ex-boyfriends to suffer. They hire me to 'woo' them, make them fall in love with me, and than dump them, harshly. All the while, the ex-girlfriend laughs cynically on the side, divulging themselves in the pleasant but bitter satisfaction that they're suffering as much as them. And honestly, when I'm paid, I never see them with a smile on their face.

But I'm not hired to make them smile. I'm hired to feed off the dark desires in their heart, to inflict pain on another person just to satisfy their broken ego. You'd think that only a cold-hearted person would be able to take on this kind of job and not fall in love with their victim, right?

Right. I'm not hired to love; I'm hired to break love apart. I've learned to detach myself emotionally from both the client and the victim. But 'client' and 'victim' are only relative terms; it depends on your point of view, which side of the story you support. Because every client I receive will always portray themselves as the 'victim', as the one who received the bad end of the relationship. And sometimes it's true. But most of the time it's not.

But what happens when one 'victim' refuses to be victimized?


Chapter One: Let's Take It From the Top

"Thanks for coming, please, have a seat." A young girl in her twenties sat alone at a resturaunt table. Black hair framed her face beautifully, green eyes perfectly complimenting her flawlessly tanned skin. A pleasant smile graced her face as she invited another young female to sit down across from her.

"Hi, I know we met over the phone, but let me introduce myself again. I'm Wendy Adams." Wendy was a very pretty girl, the other female observed. But as she well knew, being pretty didn't guarantee a happy relationship.

The other female's lips curved into a small smile. "Pleasure. Call me Rena."

Tip #1: Never give out a full name until you know the story. That's because there ARE crazy psycho stalker chicks who will hunt you down, demanding various things.

"So what's the story?" Rena asked, leaning back into the chair comfortably, taking a sip of the water the restaurant had provided, while gazing steadily at her possible client. Wendy fidgeted a little nervously, wringing her hands together and folding them on her lap.

"Well, uh," She sighed, before finally letting go of her prior reservations, "His name's Lore Davis. We met in college, started dating pretty quickly, and then about two months later, I found out he was cheating on me."

Cue sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"He was cheating on me with five other girls."

That made Rena raise her eyebrows. How did he get away with that one? He must have been watching his steps very carefully, she mused.

"When I asked him why he did it, he only shrugged and said that he doesn't like serious relationships." Wendy looked like she was about to start crying, but covered herself by saying she'd gotten some dust in her eye. "And he, he said that I'm not the type of girl he would ever want to get serious with to begin with." She was full-out crying now.

Rena pulled out one of the packs of Kleenex she kept in her purse, just in case of over-emotional clients, and handed it to her with a sympathetic smile.

Wendy took it gratefully, excusing herself as she tried to regain her control. "Sorry, sorry." She apologized, blowing her nose as discreetly as she could.

Rena shrugged. "Everyone has to cry sometime or another. It's better than keeping it in." She consoled.

"Well, anyways," Wendy laughed, "I probably look like a mess right now, but, what I want to say is, that I don't want him to suffer." She spoke softly, like she was telling Rena a secret. She had to lean in to hear her better.

"I just want him to understand what it feels like. I want him to feel the pain, the hurt of breaking hearts with no remorse." Wendy's eyes glazed over, the bitterness she felt finally revealing itself.

Huh, Rena thought, That sounds strangely familiar. She decided to pay no heed to the ironic comparison.

"I see. Well, I'm going to need to know a few things about him, if you don't mind."

"No! No, not at all." Wendy sniffed, finally regaining control of her emotions. "What do you want to know?"

"Well, so far all I know is that his name is Lore Davis, and that he's a player. Is there anything I need to know about his personality or maybe regular hang-out spots, so we could have a chance meeting?"

"Oh, well, I can make a list for you if you want." She offered, already getting a pad and pen from her purse.

"Okay. Well, before I officially accept your case, I want you to know that all charges are non-refundable and that it is against my contract to do anything involving unnecessary intimacy."

"Unnecessary intimacy?" She asked, her pen hanging above the paper tantalizingly as she looked at me curiously.

"No sex." Rena responded bluntly.

"Oh," She became flustered, "Right, I wouldn't expect that."

"I also need to confirm one more thing."

"What's that?"

"Are you still in love with him?"

Wendy turned a bright red. "No, no! I'm not. I mean, yeah, I don't expect the feelings to go away that fast, but I've come to terms with it. So, no."

Rena watched her carefully as she responded, satisfied with her answer. "Okay," I smiled, "Than can I get that information?"


Rena munched on her salad, re-reading the paper Wendy had given her a few days prior. "Lore Davis," She mumbled his name aloud, mentally reading the rest of the paper.

'Occupation: Waiter at Mystery Diner, on the corner of Reginald blvd and Louis st. Works part-time, full-time student at Westshire University. Majoring in Engineering. Black medium-length messy hair; charismatic blue eyes; strong shoulders.'

She raised her eyebrow at Wendy's description of him. It was pretty obvious she wasn't over him yet, but since she already had paid in advance, Rena had decided she wasn't going to worry about it too much. Wendy was the one inviting her own suffering, as far as she was concerned.

Chimes went off, and she raised my eyes to see the new customer at the door.

A tall man stood at the entrance, greeting the restaurant's young female host with a flirtatious smile. His shaggy black hair fell into his eyes, and it was long enough for the ends to be barely kissing the base of his neck; his eyes were blue and shining full of confidence. His figure was lean and fit, with strong, squared shoulders.

She smirked at her new target. Lore Davis had no idea what he was in for.


A/N -- OK, so I changed things. :) From now on, it'll be written in 3rd person perspective. (So instead of "I" it'll be "She") I was having a hard time writing in 1st POV while still trying to maintain a mysterious air around Rena, so, I'm going to try it this way. I'm sorry if any of you preferred it the other way, but I feel that the story would be better expressed this way... :) We'll see! It's only the first draft after all, right?

Oh, and for 1st time readers; this story is based off of Paramore's song "Misery Business", but morely based off of the feelings the song instills and not so much the lyrics. (Except for specific lines, like the title, the chapter title, along with the first line.)

Aaaand I also want to thank all my wonderful reviewers. You guys keep me motivated, and I thank you very much. :D

Alright, I think I wasted enough of your time. Hehe. :) Opinions are greatly appreciated, if you'd be so kind.

*And I'm off!*

-Sariba