Song: 'Lost' by Kris Allen
I want to thank you for all your help
'Cause you're on to me, you're on to me, I know
You tell me all the bad things I didn't know about myself
Yes, you're on to me, you're on to me, I know
Maybe I'm lost, maybe I'm lost
Maybe I'm lost
But at least I'm looking
But at least I'm looking
I wish the cat would get your tongue (hmm)
'Cause you're wrong to me, you're wrong to me, I know
You got your hands in your pocket and you pull out your wallet
With your two cents for everyone
'Cause you're wrong to me, you're wrong to me, I know
Maybe I'm lost, maybe I'm lost
Maybe I'm lost
But at least I'm looking
Oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh
Maybe I'm lost, oh, maybe I'm lost
Maybe you're lost
'Cause you're not looking
Well, at least I'm looking
........................................................................
TRIGGER WARNING: Mature Content
HANNAH'S POV
We visited as many tourist spots as one can in 3 hours, the Warner Brothers studio, the Hollywood Walk of Fame, the Universal Studios, and some other places, having tacos and enchiladas on the go. Most importantly, I clicked pictures with the iconic Hollywood sign in the background.
I saw many celebrities just randomly. Not to brag, but we saw Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman, too (though, from afar, we don't need to get into the details).
Max has promised to take me to Disneyland before I go back. A place I have never been to.
He's a nice guy, a little too flirty and romantic, almost sexual, for my liking, but it's okay. He's kind of hot too, but for some reason, I don't feel attracted to him at all. Strange, because I might not want to get into a relationship, but I sure appreciate a good look to sooth my eyes every now and then, well mostly now.
Wohoo! Saint Hannah has entered the chat.
All in all, I had a great time with him.
I'm so tired now, but he's persistent in making the night longer, so we're heading to the club for drinks to join the others. I told him I don't drink as an excuse to get out of the plan with strangers, as one does, but he didn't take a hint.
Honestly, I really crave to be back in bed and could use some sleep. Though the anti-social in me has enjoyed the evening but now I'm regretting making an in-the-moment decision to get out of my comfort zone. Not so deep down, I can't wait to get away from it if that makes sense. Life of an ambivert.
But now, here we are standing in an extremely overpriced and overcrowded nightclub. The strong stench of alcohol and sweat hit my nostrils, blocking my airways and momentarily stopping my breath, and the flashy lights going on and off every nanosecond in the dark ambiance instantly spun my head. The club is at peak adrenaline at the moment as the party is already set in motion, the music is blasting at full volume, half the people are already dancing, and there are more people naked here and making out than I care to count. A few are seated on tables or in VIP booths.
Urgh, why did I give in to come here?
It's been four or five months since I've last been to a nightclub. Somehow, this feels much more crazier than any club I've been to in New York. I guess it was because I was always with the people I've known my whole life, and we mostly got out before things got too crazy.
Max was on the call with someone, letting them know we're here. He looked towards the stairs, and a girl waved at us. It's Kayla; if I'm not wrong, she's one of the architects. Max held my hand and almost dragged me upstairs through the dense crowd; if he hadn't, I'm positive I would've lost my way.
We reached a corner table of around 9 people, a few of whom I remember from the office. Max introduced me to the rest, which turned out to be employees of the company too, just from different departments.
I was feeling hot, so I thought to take off my jacket, but Max beat me to it and took it off of me rather slowly, trying to be the gentleman that I knew he was not. I thanked him nonetheless.
I felt goosebumps creep up my spine as I had an unsettled feeling of being watched, which was strange considering the amount of people here and anyone could've unintentionally gazed. But I swear I had an uneasy feeling of being stared at. I looked around skeptically just to be sure but found everyone busy in their own world.
Strange.
Thinking of it just as a crazy false alarm, I didn't think much of it and gave my undivided attention to the people I was with and eventually forgot about it.
As the night progressed, more and more drinks made their way to our table. Boy, these people sure know how to enjoy the weekend, and they can DRINK.
I sat amongst them almost awkwardly as people were chugging drinks left, right, and center, while I had a glass of Coke in my hand. Yep, definitely a perfect fit for the group.
After every round of shots, someone or the other would force me to have just a peg, but I refused every time only to be labeled as boring.
I was very young when my mom taught me not to give in to peer pressure no matter what. She instilled in me the importance of having boundaries and morals and saying 'no' to anything I don't agree with.
And to say I've taken those words as gospel would be an understatement.
I think Max is a little drunk already because, despite telling him that I don't drink, he still tried to shove his glass in my face.
See, now, these are the things I dislike about intoxication, people losing control and sense in their minds.
People are smoking cigarettes in access here and making out at the same time, like, how? Isn't bad breath a thing of concern anymore?
Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
And whose impulsive decision was it, huh?
Suddenly Max leaned over towards me, way too close for my liking. His hand sliding down my bare arm made me uncomfortable to his touch.
"I'm heading to the restroom; I'll be back soon, babe," his words slurred as he shouted, cutting off the loud music and placing a kiss that landed a little below my jaw.
It did not feel good. And being drunk is no excuse either.
But at the same time, I do know how people react to alcohol in their systems.
I guess it's not something I should dwell on and let it pass. He's just an over-friendly colleague.
One by one people left for the dance floor, and I sat around waiting for Max to come back. About twenty or so minutes passed and he still wasn't back.
Would he be alright? I mean, he did drink quite a lot.
I took out my cell phone and dialed his number, but he didn't pick up. I called him a couple of times more but had no luck.
Dammit, Max! Where are you?
Conflicted between whether to wait for him longer or leave, I looked around when my eyes landed on the VIP lounge. My eyes took a while to adjust to the flashes of disco lights and the dark ambiance.
What I saw hitched my breath as an abrupt gasp escaped me, draining every color from my face.
No, no, no, this can't be true. It's unreal!
Fuck! I'm screwed.
What is he doing here?
What a stupid question! It's a free country; anyone can be anywhere, duh.
I know that, but why did he have to be here at the same time as I am?
And he's not alone either.
He's surrounded by important people just like himself, businessmen in their expensive suits, and the rarest of the alcohols scattered around the table.
Not only that, there are women, too. Women that look heavenly, almost inhuman. Just like the men, they too are dressed in the most couture way possible. Their exposed bodies don't look cheap or attention-seeking but rather only add to their appeal, their luscious hair made within inches of their perfection. They all belong to the area they're seated in, the VIP lounge.
I felt a bile of saliva rise from my stomach and get stuck in my throat at the scene in front of me.
A beautiful woman in a teal sequin dress with a slit reaching above her thigh was sitting next to him draped in his arms, his hand leisurely laying on her waist near her hip while with the other hand, he swirled the amber-colored content of his glass. The woman had her face in the crook of his neck, which I can swear on my grave will leave a mark as she rubbed her breasts seductively with his upper body; her delicately manicured hand fondled his broad chest as he unaffectedly talked to the people around him.
I just continued looking in their direction, torturing myself, unable to look away.
So this is where he had to be; no wonder he didn't ask me to go out with him.
Of course, that makes so much sense.
He's enjoying himself, oblivious to my presence here.
Why does it sting?
Why do I feel betrayed?
Why do I feel the back of my eyes burning with rage and tears all at once?
I blinked rigorously to not let the waterworks start and mentally rile up my pathetic self to get the fuck away from this place before I lose my mind.
I wasn't afraid of what would happen if he saw me here. If I'm being honest, deep down I wanted him to see me, and I don't know what I hoped to achieve with that, but I wanted to catch him by surprise, and more than that, I wanted to see guilt in his eyes.
I got up fanatically from the empty table and sent Max a text message to let him know I was leaving. I was descending the stairs hysterically when I bumped into someone, hard.
"Where are you going?" I lost it completely at that.
"Where the fuck were you gone?" I lashed out, "I've been waiting for you for half an hour sitting alone amongst these strangers like a fucking idiot!" I didn't know I was mad because he left me alone or was for a completely different reason.
"I'm sorry, I got caught up a little, but I'm here now." His rough hands made their way to my shoulder once again, making me really look at him this time.
His eyes were drowsy and blood red, his pupils looked more dilated than before, and his whole body felt jittery. He was rambling inaudibly, but his words were unclear.
What the hell!
I said internally as I realized where he had been. Shit!
"Max," I held his arm to get his attention. "Are you high? Have you taken drugs?" I questioned in a harsh whisper, afraid someone might overhear us.
Not that it mattered because almost everyone around here was in the same condition, if not worse.
Urgh! What did I get myself into? One irrational decision and this is the outcome?
I shook away the distressing images from before that were hell-bound to make a comeback in my head. To be honest, I can't shake them away; they are etched in my mind so now I'll pretend that they don't bother me or don't exist anymore.
I clenched my eyes shut as this was getting too much for me to handle. I can't take that much pressure.
"Come on, don't act all innocent now; you know how these things are," he said nonchalantly.
"Yes, Max, I know how these things are, and that's why it shouldn't be like this." I looked at his bored expression and knew instantly that all this talk would go in vain. "Not that you didn't know already," I said with a passive face.
"Yes, Hannah, I know all this. Now stop being judgmental and come; let's have fun," he took hold of my wrist.
"Oh no, you have fun; I'm done for the night or perhaps for a few months." I shrugged his hand away. "You, my friend, enjoy the night; I'm out of here." Patting his arm with sarcastic encouragement, I shrugged his hand away from my wrist.
Pushing him aside amidst the crowd, I moved past him to get out of there when he held my hand again, a little strongly this time.
"Hey, don't walk away like that, Hannah," he said coming in front of me. I looked at the grip he had on me and then at him, conveying to him that I don't like being pushed without consent. "Oh, sorry, my bad," he surrendered and raised his hands in the air cheekily.
He's a pretty functional addict. Thanks to the workshop I attended in high school, I was able to read the gimmicks that gave him away, otherwise, I probably wouldn't know he was high in the first place.
"Don't be mad; come, have a dance with me," he offered his hand, this time with a flirty smile.
"You're kidding me, right? I'm leaving." I shook my head at him in disbelief.
"Hey, just one dance," he blocked my path again; his demeanor looked somewhat aggressive now. "I promise, after that, we'll call it a night, okay? I'll drive you back home," he came close and held my chin.
"Just one dance, that's it," I sternly agreed, jerking his hand away, "And there's no way I'm getting in a car with you like this," I cleared that out.
Why did I agree, one might ask?
The answer is that I don't know.
Or maybe I needed a distraction to not think about the obvious.
Or maybe you wanted the 'obvious' to see you enjoying and looking unbothered while it's eating you inside out, fooling not only him but yourself too?
Reaching the center of the dance floor, we started swaying to the banger that was playing in the background. More than often, we would bump into someone or the other, but no one cared.
I finally started enjoying, and succeeding in what I actually hoped to achieve with my impulsive decision, I was living in the moment.
I was now grooving to the music, feeling at ease to let go of my hesitation of being surrounded by unknown people, when I felt a hand on my waist.
Not just any hand, Max's hand.
It slowly crawled further and further until it was at the edge of my tank top. It took me some moments to realize what was happening. I immediately held his hand in place, stopping his advances then and there.
His hand stopped moving but didn't budge from the small of my back. I tried to yank it away, but he only tightened his grip.
"Max, what are you doing?" I squirmed uncomfortably in his hold.
"Shh," with his other hand, he held my wrist and pulled me closer, making me bang in his hard chest. I winced from the harsh impact.
"Hey, come one, knock it off, Max; it's not funny." I wriggled in his hands, trying my hardest to keep my calm and not create an uncomfortable scene.
The more I tried, the more his grip tightened to the point of hurting me.
"Max, enough, let go of me this instance," I said as sternly as I could but to no avail. He didn't budge one bit.
In fact, it did the opposite.
He twisted my hand at the back, making all my plans to escape go down the drain. I looked at his face that was nearing mine; gone were the fun and flirty stares and something much darker reflected in his bloodshot eyes.
It was lust.
He was inches away from my face now, yet he couldn't see the fear on my face. I don't think he can even comprehend it.
I continued struggling in his hold, but he held me in place with almost a monstrous grip that I'm sure would leave bruises.
His eyes were closed and his lips were now nearing mine, ready to pounce on them when I moved my head to the side, barely succeeding in avoiding them.
His fingers bore harshly on my waist and wrist angrily at that, and he looked me in the eye again; this time his expressions were so dangerous that they sent a shudder down my spine so much so that I couldn't hold his gaze.
"Still playing hard to get, I see," there was a grimace in his tone. "This act of fake naivety has got me so hard since I laid my eyes on you this morning. Isn't that what you wanted, attention? You have it now, honey," he spat.
I was so shocked that I stopped moving altogether. I came out of the trance of his words when I felt his wet kisses on my shoulder and neck; his hand on my waist successfully made its way to my skin as he moved my tank top away from it.
His every touch and every filthy nibble on my skin made me feel disgusted and dirty.
"You smell so fucking good; all I want to do is take you right here right now." I shivered with cringe.
Shit, what do I do?
How do I get away from this safely?
I asked myself as I hyperventilated, panicking visibly.
"Max, please stop this," I squirmed once again, trying to push him away with all my might. "I... I'm so sorry if I gave you the wrong idea, b... but I didn't mean to. I told you I don't want a relationship," I said nervously, afraid of what he might do next.
"Who wants a relationship, Hannah? I just want to fuck you," he announced without changing his position. He bit my shoulder and I flinched in pain. "See how your body reacts to my touch; now that tells me how good you'll be in bed," his hand crawled further up my shirt "Fuck, I've waited all day just for this moment, acting all friendly and shit when all I wanted was to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk or talk for days." Uncontrollable tears were streaming down my face, blurring my vision and weakening my efforts to somehow make it out of this situation.
"Now be the bitch that you are and stop resisting," he clenched my jaw and pressed it harshly. "I don't care if he fucks you or not, as long as I get a taste of you, I'm fine. But trust me, I can fuck you better than him." With that, he forcefully brought my face closer to his lips once again, his breath reeking of strong dose of alcohol.
My mind shut down, numbly succumbing to the unavoidable, unable to understand what was happening. My shocked state no longer having the power to push him away as he restrained both my hands behind me.
"Now, that's a pretty sight, having you helpless and at my mercy like you were in that elevator today," he uttered like a retarded person. "Fucking stop crying before I fuck you right here right now, you cu..." His words were cut short.
"GET. YOUR. HANDS. OFF. HER." Amidst the maddening noise came a booming voice.
................................................................
Author's note.
I know it was an equally hard read as it was to write.
My apologies to anyone who's been through sexual assault or knows someone who has or if it triggered you. Please know that there are people who can help you through it.
If you don't know anyone to whom you can open up, think of me as your trusted friend and reach out to me. I'll be happy to help you however I can.
Talking about it helps your healing, and it also exposes the perpetrators and saves many more lives.
Not much to say here as it's a hard subject.
I don't know if you'll like this chapter or not, but let me know in the comments how you find it. Your votes and comments are very important for the story's growth and reach.
Much loveð¥°