Wasted Years

Gabriel's POV

The air in the room was thick, smelling like expensive cologne and the kind of raw, sweaty musk that made me want to gag. I stood there, my hand still trembling on the doorknob, watching the person I had loved for five years untangle himself from a nightmare.

"Gabriel, wait. I can explain. It’s not... " Bradley started, his voice cracking as he tried to pull a stray sheet over his lower half.

"He can’t explain a damn thing," Derek’s voice cut him off, sharp and cold as a razor blade.

Derek walked back to his couch. He stayed right there, sitting back against the headboard, completely naked and looking like a bored king. He looked at Bradley like he was a used tissue, then shifted those icy, sea-blue eyes to me.

"He gets paid to please me, Gabriel," Derek smirked, a slow, cruel twist of his lips. "He’s an employee. And a very... dedicated one, aren't you, Brad?"

I felt the floor tilt. I looked at Bradley, waiting for him to scream, to hit him, to say it was a lie. But Bradley just looked at the pillows. He looked at the floor. He looked at anything but me.

"You’re going to be my step brother next month, right?" Derek continued, his voice dropping into a lethal, quiet purr. "Now, listen close. If you don't want me to make every single second of your life a living hell, you are going to go home tonight. You’re going to find that hoe of a mother of yours and you are going to convince her to cancel this wedding. You tell her whatever lie you need to."

"Derek, please," I whispered, the word feeling like a piece of glass in my throat.

"If you don't," Derek’s eyes turned into flint, "I will make sure she finds out her perfect, righteous son is nothing but a gutter tier pervert who spends his nights sketching naked men. I will send those drawings to your church, Gabriel. I will send them to the Dean. With just one phone call the trash you call life is ruined."

The tears were already hot, blurring the edges of the room. I looked at Bradley, my heart literally feeling like it was being squeezed in a fist.

"Five years, Bradley," I choked out. "Five years of hiding us. Five years of me working three different freelance gigs, staying up until 4:00 AM sketching portraits for rich assholes just so I could pay for your textbooks. I paid for your lab fees. I literally funded your life so you could stay here with me. I built you."

I expected him to cry. I expected him to beg.

Instead, Bradley let out a long, heavy sigh. He looked at me with a face full of pure, exhausted annoyance. "Don't be so dramatic, Gabe. Just do what he says. It’s for the best for everyone."

The world snapped.

It wasn't a clean break, it was a messy, jagged explosion in my chest. With a sound that didn't even sound like me, a high, broken sob.. I lunged.

My weak, fingers reached for Bradley’s throat. I just wanted to hurt him. I wanted to feel him feel something.

But I never even got close.

Derek moved like a predator. Before I could even blink, his hand clamped around my bicep, his fingers digging into my skin like iron claws. He hauled me back with a strength that made my teeth rattle, slamming my small frame against the cold, hard wall. The heat coming off his naked body was suffocating, and the smell of him filled my lungs until I couldn't breathe.

"You think you can get violent in my house?" Derek hissed, his face inches from mine.

The other guys in the room, the two shadows I hadn't even fully acknowledged started laughing. It was a hollow, echoing sound that made me feel smaller than I had ever felt in my life. Derek let go of me abruptly, and I crumpled. My knees hit the hardwood with a sickening thud, and my glasses flew off my face, skittering somewhere into the dark corners of the room.

The world turned into a grey, hazy smear. I couldn't see a thing. Everything was just shapes and shadows. I started patting the floor, my hands shaking so hard I could barely feel the wood. I needed my glasses. I needed to see. I felt like I was drowning in the middle of a room full of people watching me die.

"I need...my glasses," I sobbed. "I can't see without my glasses...." I kept patting the floor.

"What’s wrong with him?" Derek’s voice sounded amused. "Is he blind?"

"He can’t really see without them," Bradley muttered. I heard the bed creak. He sounded bored. He sounded like he was talking about a broken toy he didn't want to play with anymore.

A shadow moved toward me. I froze, my breath coming in short, panicked hitches. I felt a pair of strong, calloused hands reach down. I thought he was going to hit me. Instead, Derek picked up my glasses and shoved them back onto my face.

The world snapped into terrifying focus.

Derek was looming over me, his dark curls damp with sweat, his muscular chest heaving slightly. He looked like a merciless god. He leaned down, his eyes locking onto mine.

"Get out," he said, his voice flat. "And don't forget the mission, Gabe. Tell your mom to cancel, or the whole world sees what’s in that sketchbook. Move."

I didn't wait. I scrambled to my feet, my legs nearly giving out, and bolted. I didn't grab my bag. I didn't look back. I just ran.

I sprinted through the luxury hallway, past the silent, judging guards, and burst out into the biting night air. I didn't stop until I reached the bridge overlooking the campus lake. My chest ached like I had been kicked by a horse. Every breath I took felt like a sob I was trying to swallow down.

Five years.

I looked at my hands. I had sold my soul and my talent to fund the very life that just destroyed me. I had worked myself to the bone to keep him by my side, only to find out I was just a placeholder until Derek Miller decided to buy him.

I was a mess. A ginger-haired, broke, humiliated mess with nowhere to go and a secret that was going to destroy me. I looked down at the dark, still water of the lake, my tears dripping onto the railing, wondering how I was supposed to go home and look at my mother’s happy face tomorrow.

How do I convince my mother to stop this wedding? My mother already hates me for reasons I really didn't know. I wasn't one of those kids who were loved by their parents or friends. In my life I was a nobody. As a matter of fact you can call me the side character of my own live.....A useless thin gay ginger boy.

I just stood there in the dark, shaking, recalling all the beautiful moments I had with my boyfriend. All the promises he made to me, all our stupid vows.

The weight of Derek’s hands stayed burned into my skin. I had nothing left. Not even the person I had spent half a decade building a life with..... I was officially totally alone.