Hello, sorry for updating this story after such long time.

Here is the first part, a prologue, but soon will come more.

Hope you'll like it, so please let me know, vote, comment, say what you think and fan :-)

The story has a mature background and problems, is a mature boyxboy or more a manxman story, so if you don't like it or you think it's not for you, consider before reading it.

For now, enjoy xox

AUTHOR'S NOTE: the story used to have 3 private chapters, 12-19-23, but finally this function is no longer available and so, all the chapters are now public :)  So please let me know if you have problems in finding them, but I believe you shouldn't.
Please, I can't stress enough how this story is NOT EDITED: in terms of grammar, spelling, contents and such. Please understand this before you begin reading it. Thank you :)
I will eventually edit it, I just need the time. Thank you for your kind understanding and enjoy reading!

Prologue:

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am sorry, but the story is NOT edited, therefore I sincerely apologize for the errors. I will edit it as soon as possible. Thank you for your kind understanding!

Have you ever fucked up big time your life?

Have you ever messed everything so badly up that there was no hope to getting back to normality?

Have you ever touched the lowest point and scratched the dirt with your fingers, nails, ate it and stayed there unable to move, or think or make your fucked up brain work?

Well, all of these things happened to me and I can guarantee it really stinks and suffocates you, everything crashes down on you and squashes you so much that it is fucking painful.

What happened, you ask?

Well, I fucked up big time my whole life.

I had everything, but apparently nothing.

Seeing later how things turned out.

I had left only one thing. No, actually two.

My beloved sister, that would be there for me always, the only sincere, true and pure person that helped me out and cared about me. She still does, even if far away.

And, my now lame and dull talent. Yeah, I still had it, but that gave me no more joy and sense of superiority like years ago.

Yeah, I fucked up big, big time.

What happened, again?

Persistent, aren’t we?

Well, if you must know, I was a star in the national basketball association (NBA) in the States, had a stellar contract with one of the best team ever, where my heroes played. So it was like a dream coming true. And it did come true, it was incredible, so brilliant that turned me blind.

So with money and popularity came also a gorgeous and perfect girlfriend, the most beautiful chick that everyone envies you and that every male dreams about. But she didn’t have only the looks, she was smart and sweet and caring. Well, so I thought.

She wasn’t, she was just like anyone else. Nice and sweet when things go according her way, when things are easy and perfect. When something began to turn differently, well, she became different as well and showed colours I had never seen.

And that I didn’t like.

My family.

My beloved and 24/7 present family.

What a joke.

They kicked me out and stopped talking to me when I messed up big time.

They were this conservative, kind of rich and snobbish old family, too much into view to allow someone like me to cast dark and filthy shadows on their sickening perfect pedigree.

God, I missed so much my sister.

But again, what happened?

Well, I injured my knee during a game, took me forever to recover and the media were pressing, my family and fiancée were pressing. Not my teammates, they wanted me back, but in perfect shape. They knew too well what it meant to play with a wrecked knee. But I was a stupid, weak and pompous guy, yeah, I was a complete idiot and fame got into my head. Pretty much bad.

So I went back to play, feeling Super Man.

Lord, I played really bad, missing pass, doing childish mistakes, missing baskets, dunks... My knee was killing me like hell. I felt in hell.

I began to take massive dose of painkillers, they worked at first, not later.

So, what else to do?

For the media I was done, for my teammates I was an old bag you drag along, but you don’t need, my family was disappointed and so was my oh so perfect and sweet fiancée. Yeah, we were planning to get married.

What a joke.

So, what else to do?

The worst and most stupid and wrong and fucked up thing.

Allow my stupidity and shallowness and my weakness to take control.

I began to dope my idiot self.

What a mess.

What a idiot, I was.

A surprise test and that did the trick.

It all back fired me like a biting bitch and shitted me hell time.

Conclusion and achievement.

I was a failure and a cheater for the media, they sliced me in tiny shitty pieces in every articles and TV program.

My family kicked me away, too ashamed and disappointed to help me out.

I had a huge problem. A huge fucking problem. That became addicting.

My fiancée ... what to say, broke off and left me there, eat the dirt alone.

I was completely lost, broken and alone.

But my sister sent to hell my family and helped me out. She took me to a place to recover, it took time, it took her love and patience, it took my almost nonexistent strength and will to get out of there, it took a big deal effort. But I had her there for me every day, her love, her courage, support, help, herself. And I made it. I kicked myself and ordered myself to do it, for her. For me, too.

But I was done and no one wanted me back.

I risked another bad time and my sister suggested me to move to a more quiet and nice place, not so much at the centre of attention and loud.

That was a good idea, I told her.

I remembered what one of the guy told me one day, about a city he went to visit when his wife’s brother got married. He said it was smaller than our city, different, not too chaotic and loud and grey, but more green and windy, with all different people walking in the rainy streets, to go inside a pub, have a beer and watch rugby or Gaelic football or soccer, but had not the slightest interest in basketball.

Yeah, that’s what I needed.

Something really far. Way, way far.

My sister didn’t expect that and I am sure I almost broke her heart.

But I had to go and she understood and once again supported me.

I told her I would wait for her, once she was ready to leave, once I had a decent life I could offer her.

I still had my money, quite a lot of them, but I learned through all that shit, to value them and keep them for rainy day.

When I left for Dublin, in Ireland, in Europe, I was a wrecked and broken soul. I got out of that nightmare called addiction, but my regrets and past life would always bite my heels and wake me up during nights.

But I didn’t care.

Here I was a common Joe. No one knew me. No one cared from where I came for. I was a new and old person at the same time.

I had a chance to start a new life.

That wasn’t easy, mind it.

If your strength sucks like mine, isn’t that easy. But I wanted to repay my sister and that gave me enough fuel.

Now I am here, in rainy and windy Dublin, with a strong American accent people make fun of in an Irish way, working as a normal and common Joe as a trainer and PE teacher, that’s the only thing I could do and that I knew how to do.

So, welcome to my new empty and waste life.

I am Emmett Michael Johnson, almost 30 years old, with no particular goals or interest. And no will to interact with people. I wasn’t ready to trust them and let them in my fucked up life.

I wasn’t ready to have anything like a relationship, if it wasn’t a normal and dry work related relation.   

I wasn’t ready for what came and crashed down on me shit big time.