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1 Khalid

FILTHY HOT PRINCE

PART ONE

“Can I kiss you, Khalid?”

1

Khalid

I lounged on the blue velvet armchair as if it was my obsidian throne. Lifting the fragile China cup to my mouth, I took a sip, relishing the burn of whiskey from the half empty bottle before the interview started. I already had the half bottle before the art show started and needless to say, I was tipsy as fuck.

“What’s the inspiration behind your paintings?” She asked, the cameras zooming in on my face.

I answered with a straight face. “Suffering and fucking.”

The female interviewer turned into a flustered mess, people whispering to each other as my agent glared at me, imitating as if he was slicing his throat. He either meant he wanted to die or wanted me to cut it out.

I gulped down the whiskey from the cup. I couldn’t care less what the art critics had to say about me or the interview when it airs. I was Khalid Al Latif. A Prince and an artist. If they didn’t want my honest answers, they could go fuck themselves wh
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