Page 1 of F*ckboys

Prologue

The vast event space pulsates with people but I immediately spot him. Even through the bustling crowd, he’s hard to miss with his meticulously styled dark hair and his icy blue eyes that seem to sear into my soul. He’s well-dressed as usual, too. Always making sure he has the latest pair of sneakers and designer jeans, and fitted T-shirts that cling to his muscular figure in all the right places. Only the best for him. Even I have to admit he looks good.

He's engaging, and his ability to make people feel like they're the only person in the room is second to none. But he’s the only person who he treats so well. His outward persona is merely a façade, a mask carefully curated for the outside world, because within, he's a predator, a connoisseur of suffering. Everyone else is second-class according to him. Especially women. In fact, in his eyes, women are just vessels to satiate his hunger, to be discarded without a second thought.

While I slipped in discreetly in order to observe him from afar, I hope he notices me while I’m here. Not that he knows me yet,but he will very soon. In fact, I yearn for him to feel my presence. After all, I’m going to make him pay for what he’s done. I’ve known many men like him, and I know the person he's hurt most recently. She's a human, not just a statistic, and his actions damn near destroyed her. He’s going to feel more pain than most humans could bear, and I’m going to make it last, because he deserves it for what he's done. Though we are strangers now, he will soon know me intimately. I am the harbinger of retribution, and he will pay for the agony he's inflicted.

There aren’t many people who generate this kind of hate in a stranger, but he’s managed to invoke mine.

I don’t just want to destroy his mind and body, I want to destroy his soul, and every trace that he ever existed.

In fact, I think I’m going to save him for second to last.

Because there’s only one person I hate more.

Chapter 1

Fallon

Fuckboys.

We might not all know them by that name, but nearly all of us have almost certainly met at least one in our lifetimes.

The dictionary’s definition of a fuckboy is a ‘weak or contemptible man’ or ‘a man who has many casual sexual partners'.

In my view, there’s nothing wrong with the second definition here, as long as everyone knows what they’re getting into. I prefer to go with the internet's top offerings—‘a guy who lies to girls so he can pull as much as possible’, ‘the male version of a thot’, or even better, ‘a low value male who is only good for hookups.’

After all, this is where the traditional dictionary gets it wrong. Because the entire premise of the fuckboy lifestyle is based on deceit and a one-sided understanding of relationship dynamics. Some might say ‘Don’t hate the player, hate the game’, but it’s my prerogative to despise both.

In the open, I run workshops designed to help people identify and free themselves from toxic fuckboy behavior. But underground, in the shadows, I run a very different operation. That’s why I’ve made it my life’s mission to exact revenge on the worst offenders. You see, I operate a clandestine business where I help the people who have been most wronged by these contemptible individuals who are mostly, but not always, men. You see, I seek revenge on behalf of others. I hunt them down and systematically ruin them. Just like they did to their victims.

This service isn’t intended for your run-of-the-mill narcissistic loser who has purposely inflicted a certain amount of hurt feelings. No, this is for the ones who methodically destroy the self-esteem of the women they’re with to the point they’re forever changed. And sometimes it goes much further than that. I may not be able to pick up all the pieces, but I’ll damn well try. I'm a firm believer that the punishment needs to fit the crime. An eye for an eye type of thing. No need to go overboard.

Some might believe that we should let karma take the wheel, and eventually the fuckboy will get their just desserts. But that’s not guaranteed or timely, and sometimes the universe needs a little, or very large, nudge. That’s why I do what I do.

I take my place at the sleek steel podium I selected to convey that my company means serious business. It gleams under the bright overhead lights that illuminate the intimate lecture theater in my office building.

The crowd murmurs with eager anticipation at what I’m about to say, many of them already sitting with pens poised above spiral notebooks. A few even have laptops open ready to type what I say verbatim. I’m certain most of them are going to hang onto every word so I know I need to be precise with my language.

Tiered seating ensures all attendees have a clear view of the projector screen, whiteboard, and of course the speaker, which is currently me. It’s a far cry from when I used to run these sessions in the cramped living room at my tiny old apartment. It’s taken me time and tenacity to work my way up to this point, and I’m proud of what I’ve achieved.

My childhood best friend and current assistant, Mia, smiles and nods with encouragement as she hands me the microphone.

“Hello everyone,” I beam at the crowd. "Thank you so much for coming to today’s bootcamp. I can assure you it’s going to be an informative and enlightening session.

Many of you will find our time together challenging because of the information we'll be covering. At some points, you may find yourself feeling frustrated or angry or hurt. Perhaps even a little sheepish or ashamed. But that’s no reflection on you, and these emotions are completely understandable.

You are merely going through the cycle of grief associated with freeing yourself from the conditions that have been holding you back."

I glance around the hushed room, making eye contact with as many people as I can to convey the seriousness of my words.

"Now to begin with, let’s ground ourselves. Why are we here today?”

All eyes are fixed on me. There is no texting, no whispered small talk between attendees. This isn’t like a college lecture theater where people are phoning it in and showing up just to get their attendance checked off. Everyone wants to know whatI have to say on this topic. And they’re paying for it, too. This course isn’t cheap.

I press my lips together as I nod at the eager crowd. “We’re here to break down the profile of a fuckboy. The myths, the legends, the ways they treat us. And how we can free ourselves from our current situations. How we can heal as quickly and as thoroughly as possible, and most importantly, how we can prevent ourselves from ever getting into this type of dilemma again.”

I take a moment to pause and let my words sink in.

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