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Sebastian:

It’s pouring rain as I drive back into the shitty Northern California town I grew up in. It’s not exactly a place filled with happy memories for me. Once my music career started taking off, I avoided it like the plague, though I felt obligated to return now and then. My mom made it through surprisingly . She never left my dad, who luckily drank himself to death. Evil bastard. It’s always been the giant elephant in the room whenever I come around. So, I usually don’t. I’ve always hated it here, especially after Alina ghosted me three weeks after meeting her that day in detention. What little good had festered in this place disappeared entirely when she did.

I hate being home and every painful memory that inevitably surfaces when I’m here. And as I pull into the driveway of my mom’s new house, the one I bought for her and forced her to move into, I’m feeling extra sorry for myself. I grab the wheel and sigh, resisting the urge to bash my forehead into it, despite having every reason to do so.

Washed-up rockstar.

Kicked off my own tour.

Drug addict.

Alcoholic.

Rich and worthless.

And most of all, alone .

So alone, it hurts inside.

Being on tour was like pouring salt in my unhealed wounds and once I got my hands on the good drugs, it was only a matter of time before I facilitated my own downfall.

And damn, did I plummet.

Thirty-two-year-old, has-been musician moves back in with his estranged mother after tour is called off due to excessive partying and drug use. What a fucking headline. If the women who wanted to fuck me could see me now.

It makes me think of that day in detention and how I had decided that night was going to be the night. The one to end it all and yet, she walked into that room and changed the course of everything. My life forever shifted the day she entered it and shattered into nothingness three weeks later when she left.

I never heard from her again.

Luckily, we wasted no time fucking the shit out of each other, as she gifted me with her virginity the night of her eighteenth birthday. Fucking me raw and burrowing herself into my heart over the next few weeks. And every girl after her has paled in comparison. I feel myself giving into that familiar feeling of despair. Time has never been a factor in my suffering. She slipped through my fingers, and I’ve never been the same since.

Lina Girl. If I only knew where she was now. It’s something I find myself wondering about often.

Movement catches my attention and pulls me from my internal misery as my mom gingerly approaches my car. Even though this is awkward for us both, I’m grateful to have somewhere to go. Besides, aren’t I kind of the problem she helped to create in the first place? I suppose it’s time for her to clean up her mess.

I open my door and gather her in half a hug, her head barely meeting my chest. It makes me wonder if she’s always been this small and fragile. And now I fucking hate my dad even more.

“I know this isn’t where you imagined yourself to be at this time in your life, Sebastian, but I’m so happy to have you home,” she gushes, as she surprises me and deepens her own embrace. I try not to stiffen at her candid affection.

“Thanks mom. It’s hard to say I feel the same.” I had decided a long time ago it was better to be frank with her than to lie for her comfort.

“I know, honey. I expected as such,” she mumbles, pulling away from me, trying to hide her wet eyes. I suck my teeth before turning to my car and grabbing a few things from the backseat. I had most of my other shit sent over separately. I’m still loaded with money and pay people to do the shit I don’t want to do. The perks of being a rich douche bag. Sighing, I follow my mom into the house, hanging my head in despair as I enter my new life.

*****

I have a bag of takeout on the seat next to me as I drive around aimlessly in the wet night. My mom tried to cook me something to eat, but all I could think about were the silent dinners we used to have together when I was a kid. Ones where I’d see all of her new bruises and she’d ignore mine while shoveling more broccoli onto my plate. Like that made up for her lack of acknowledgment of our situation. I didn’t feel like reminiscing, so I snuck out hours ago.

I have no plan, so I pull into the parking lot of a local dive bar called The Bengal. I snort to myself at the terrible name. Fisting a burger in my hand, I figure I should at least eat something if I plan to drink the rest of the night away. I have over a month sober, but who the fuck cares. I certainly don’t and neither does the label. The tour wasn’t reinstated when I left rehab. So, I’m saying fuck it to the sober shit as I shove another mouthful of Carl’s Jr. into me, in preparation of getting shitfaced. Famous Star with cheese. Feels somewhat ironic now that I’m a fallen rock god without any prospects for redemption.

I eat my misery and watch the rain fall on my windshield in torrents, feeling extremely sorry for myself and my fucked up situation.

I’m crumpling up the paper to my first burger when I see a couple exit the bar, their bodies pressed together as they laugh lightheartedly. They look like they’re in love, the woman grabbing the man’s ass as they hurry to their car before quickly leaving the parking lot.

It has me feeling emptier than before, so I stuff a second burger in my mouth, haunted by the memory of a phantom with maroon hair she dyed herself. Alina . What I would give to forget her for even a second. It’s been so fucking long and yet, she still lives in my veins like my thirst for heroin. I shove the last third of my food into my mouth whole, longing for something to do other than wallow in the past.

A man exits the bar next, looking around a few times before heading around the back of the building, his shoulders hunched due to the rain. I look back to my almost empty takeout bag to find the fries, disinterested. I’m stuffing a handful into my mouth when a woman follows shortly after. And I swear to fucking god, time stands still as the ghost of my past appears.

Alina fucking Timber.

Right the fuck in front of me. And just as devastating as she was in high school. Her hair is darker, more of a purple color now. But it’s still long and her green eyes shine fiercely through the gray haze of the storm. She’s wearing a black beanie with a tight black hoodie and fitted jeans that make her ass pop.

It’s taking everything in me not to leave the car and gather her in my arms. I’ve waited for years for our reunion and an explanation as to where the fuck she disappeared to. The woman who saved my life and then vanished, almost like a guardian angel in disguise. I’m absolutely stunned to be witnessing her ethereal beauty again in real time, not just a memory from my overdrawn spank bank. She’s grown into the most gorgeous woman and I’m a damn puddle of myself in the driver’s seat as I gawk at her in disbelief. I watch her look around a few times before retreating after the man who left the bar seconds before her.

As a former rockstar slash drug addict, I know sketchy when I see it and when her body disappears into the dark behind the building, I’m quickly unbuckling my seatbelt to follow the two of them into the rain.

She’s not getting away that easily this time.

Alina:

I hate working when it’s pouring. I’m mandated by my fucking boss to do all business outside in the parking lot at the back of the building and there aren’t many awnings to keep from getting wet back here when the sky is truly dumping. I’d fuck in my client’s cars but have found I can usually get it over with quicker when I expose them to the elements. Not that they care for my own well-being. They just tend to freeze their balls off fast enough to pump, dump and run.

What a fucking shitty day.

I’ve had three more clients than expected and my body is tired. I’m so sick of being used. But the money doesn’t stop for my emotions; neither do the dicks. And all I can do is keep bundling up until it gets warmer outside. Like I said, my fucking boss could care less, and I’ve found a system that works to my benefit.

Albert’s waiting for me next to the dumpster. How classy . Then again, I’m a fucking whore who’s paying off her father’s gambling debts to his former loan shark, so classy isn’t really up my alley.

But in moments, Albert’s cock will be.

“C’mon, it’s fucking freezing out here. You can’t ask Luke to invest in an actual room or something?” he complains as I approach him. I smirk at his discomfort.

“Like I’d get into a real bed with you,” I say with a snort. “The alley is exactly where you belong.”

“Coming from the hooker working said alley,” he growls as he grabs at my sweatshirt pocket, bringing me closer to his face. The smell of Coors Lite wafts off of him.

I visibly cringe.

“I’m literally doing this to save my life, although seeing as it’s a complete shit show, I don’t know why I haven’t blown my own brains out yet,” I hiss back, but I know why. After losing my brother to suicide, it doesn’t really seem like the best option for me. At first, I wanted to make sure I stuck around to help my dad get through everything. But when his facade crumbled and his massive gambling addiction finally came to light, he sold me off to Luke to cover one of his many debts. I honestly have no idea if he’s alive or not. It wouldn’t surprise me if one of the other loan sharks had gotten to him. Unfortunately for me, Luke is fond of me and I’m not going anywhere. He likes to use me to bring in cash and when I’m done serving his clients, I usually service him.

Every weekend.

Luckily, Monday through Thursday I’m able to do whatever I want, which is usually work at my second job waiting tables to afford the mortgage for the small house I purchased on my own and have been fixing up over the last five years. It’s also how I get by without dipping into the money I make for Luke to pay off my inherited debt. But work at the restaurant is slow and they haven’t called me with any hours in a couple of weeks.

So, more fucking it is.

My house isn’t much of anything, but it’s mine and it makes me feel like I have some semblance of control over myself, which is nice. I absolutely do not and whatever I can do to foster a false sense of security is vital to my survival.

“Well, why don’t you commiserate alone later, after I’ve gotten my nut off, Alina,” he remarks harshly. “Decide whether or not to kill yourself then, alright?”

I hate this fucker so much. And the fact that I have to unzip my pants and strip myself of them before getting back into my warm boots is just the acid-laced cherry on top of this literal shit storm of a sundae. Albert eyes my legs greedily as they pebble in the cold air. His fingers, black from working on cars all day, grope at my thighs as I repress a scream of rage. He kicks my feet apart with his large work boots as I stumble, complying. “Open up, princess,” he oozes nastily. I turn my face away, not wanting to witness the violation of him scooping my panties to the side. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth as he parts my folds and sinks his fingers into my pussy. I bite back a protest as my teeth bite into my bottom lip. “Hole-ly shiiit,” he says impressed as he retrieves his fingers and holds them up, the fake wetness I laced my cunt with on display between us.

Pure lube. Not me. Not at all. Like I could actually get wet for these vile fuckers.

But it does the trick and he’s playing right into my sleight of hand as he reaches for his zipper and aggressively pulls it down. “Turn around,” he demands gruffly as he forces me into the wall and bends me over. The cold air bites into my most sacred parts as Albert bares me for the world to see by pulling my underwear completely down and pushing my shoulders forward. I’m so happy he can’t see my face as he spears himself into me after rolling down a condom on himself. I’m filled with his offensive body as the wind blows raindrops into my face. My breathing hitches in waves of jagged emotion that he mistakes for arousal. He begins to pump himself into my cunt, the pace too quick too fast, talking about how good he’s making me feel and how wet I am for him.

Ha . If he only knew.

I brace myself against the wall and cry, doggy style always allowing me to mourn the girl I was before. The girl who used to have control over who fucked her or not, so much so she unknowingly created a persona of chastity and purity around herself when her name was mentioned. My reputation is quite different now and I feel terrible for myself as Albert continues to jackhammer his way through to his orgasm.

I try not to do it. But my mind always wanders back to that beautiful boy with the long hair and guitar, who could stop my breathing with just a smile. Whose fingers never stopped moving to imaginary music only he could hear. Bash… What would he even think of me now? A literal, fucking whore. I went from being his prized possession to a girl devoid of life before I was then sold off to temper the anger of one my father’s evil overlords.

I sniff loudly and endure.

Endure like I’ve always done.

“ Are you fucking crying, bitch? ” Albert’s voice is a painful reminder of my reality as he grabs the hair at the nape of my neck and turns my face towards his. “Seriously, Alina? This has been going on for five years and you pick now to fall apart?” His words are laced with poison as he looks me over with an enraged glare. “I pay you to stand there and take it. When you cry, it makes me feel like a creep, like I’m demanding something from you that you aren’t freely giving,” he growls, spit flying onto my cheek where it meets my tears.

“Paying someone to fuck them isn’t them giving something freely away, dumbass. I never asked for this! Who whores themselves out in such a way if they’re doing this willingly?” I rasp. His eyes bore into my own without an ounce of sympathy. I try not to flinch because Albert isn’t shit, but he’s big and mean and drunk and I wouldn’t put it past him to make me comply to his demands by force. It’s happened before.

God , I’m so depressed.

My cheek is pulled harshly towards his mouth as he licks all the tears from my face in a show of power. “Not while I’m inside you, got it?” he barks with a menacing tone and it’s all I can do to shut my mouth and take it until he’s finished. But the tears… they won’t stop and it’s making him meaner.

“Goddammit, you stupid slut. Stop fucking crying,” he yells while digging his fingers into my scalp and pressing my face painfully back into the wall before me as he continues his rhythm from behind.

“You’re hurting me!” I yell back as I try to move my upper body, but he’s leaning into me with all his strength and I’m fucking stuck in this awkward position. “ Albert!! ” I scream. He simply responds by picking up his pace and grunting as he does so.

What a fucking prick.

I wanna die all over again.

His weight is like a metaphor for all the things that won’t allow me to surge back to life, to come up for air. But just as I feel myself give into a fresh wave of tears, Albert’s body is whisked back as he’s ripped from my pussy. I’m able to free myself of the wall by crumpling to the cold asphalt.

“What the fuck?!” Albert shouts as he stumbles backwards, his pants around his ankles making it impossible for him to fight back or gain his footing. He’s flailing about, his average-sized dick shrinking in the cold, the condom going limp. I can’t help but laugh at that. It feels satisfying to see him growing physically smaller at the hands of another man.

It finally registers that I’m actually seeing a second man and when it does, I wish Albert was still fucking me and that no one had intervened. Because I see Sebastian Cox. The older, angrier, fallen rockstar version of my former boyfriend holding him and I’m displayed unceremoniously on the ground before them as Bash takes his fists and repeatedly beats Albert’s face in. And just for good measure, living up to his name, he bashes Albert in the dick and balls with a powerful kick that makes him scream so loudly, I finally snap out of my daze.

“ BASH! ” I holler hysterically as his eyes meet my own. They’re unfocused and crazed at first, then sharpen like a predator’s as he zeroes in on me. He approaches me swiftly, immediately yanking me to my feet and pulling up my underwear in one aggressive movement. I barely have time to snatch my pants before he’s parading me towards the front of the building.

“You’ll fucking pay for this, Alina!!” threatens a wounded Albert from the asphalt. “Luke is gonna hear about everything, you stupid whore!!”

I shiver knowing he means every last word. And Luke is going to be livid . Which always means more fucking for me in the end. My boots stomp through the puddles towards the black Audi Bash is unlocking, his warm hand firmly attached to my upper arm. Water is running freely down my bare legs. I can’t even enjoy our surprise reunion.

It’s the stuff of nightmares honestly.

He says nothing as he opens the car and shoves me inside, slamming the door before running to the other side quickly. Then, Bash gets in and levels me with a look that I wish would just kill me. I stop breathing before him for a completely different reason this time. His glare is like a punch to the gut. He throws the car into reverse and speeds away from the bar.