Chapter 6

Aiden’s POV

I bolted back to my room like my ass was on fire, slammed the door so hard the posters on the wall fluttered, then just stood there with my back pressed flat against it, chest heaving, trying to pretend my brain wasn’t actively melting down around me. I saw it. I fucking saw it. But my head was so scrambled from the rest of the day that part of me still wanted to gaslight myself into thinking maybe I imagined the undies, maybe Jovian would never, maybe it was just some random black fabric and my eyes were playing tricks because who has the energy to process one more violation tonight? So I did what any reasonable person does when reality keeps kicking them in the nuts: I shrugged. Hard. Told myself it was probably nothing, told myself Jovian wouldn’t do that, told myself I was too tired and too broken to deal with it right now.

I kicked off my shoes with shaky hands, crawled onto my bed fully clothed and pulled the blanket over my head like it could hide me from everything. Ethan’s snoring started up almost immediately through the thin wall, deep and satisfied like he’d just conquered Mount Everest instead of some random girl’s vagina. The dorm felt smaller than ever, closing in around my pathetic little body.

My skin still crawling from the subway hands, from Dr. Harlan’s grip, and at that moment, I felt as though a pair of eyes were constantly boring into me, yet every time I turned, all I saw was Chris’s cold, indifferent profile. It got to the point where I started questioning my own sanity, wondering if I was just becoming paranoid. I let it go though, I had worse issues at hand.

I rolled onto my stomach, face smashed into the pillow, and tried to breathe through it. In. Out. In. Out. It didn’t work. My lungs felt too small, my ribs too fragile, like one more wrong thought would crack me open. My brain kept replaying everything on loop, subway guy’s fingers tearing my jeans, Harlan’s “aren’t you just looking to get fucked?”

“Fuck this,” I muttered into the pillow. My voice came out muffled and small, already cracking.

I sat up fast. Too fast. The room spun and my vision blurred at the edges. Scholarship still on hold. Rent looming. Body feeling like public property that anyone could just reach out and take.

I couldn’t stay here. Couldn’t lie in this bed listening to Ethan snore. I needed air. I needed to move. Needed to not be in this fucking room for five minutes or I was going to shatter.

I yanked the blanket off with trembling fingers, shoved my feet back into sneakers without even untying them, grabbed my phone and keys, and slipped out the door as quiet as I could, shoulders already hunched like I was trying to disappear. Hallway dark. Stairs dark. Outside even darker. Campus was dead at this hour, three-something a.m., streetlights buzzing, wind cold enough to cut straight through my hoodie and leave me shivering. I started walking. No direction. Just away. Fast at first, legs shaky underneath me, then slower, hands shoved deep in my pockets, shoulders hunched even tighter like that would protect my weak, useless body from whatever came next.

I should’ve known better.

I heard the voices before I saw them, low laughs, boots against concrete, voices carrying on the night air. It was a construction site two blocks over. Night crew still working under floodlights, or maybe just hanging around after shift. Four guys. Maybe five. Hard hats off, cigarettes glowing, tool belts clinking. They spotted me the second I crossed the streetlight pool.

“Hey, pretty boy,” one called. Deep voice. Laughing already. “Lost?”

I kept walking. Faster. My heart hammered so hard it hurt.

“Yo, red! Slow down, we just wanna talk!”

Footsteps behind me. Closing in. My legs felt like they might give out any second. I cut left down a side street. They followed. Laughs louder.

“Come on, sweetheart, don’t be shy. That ass looks lonely.”

Another voice, rougher. “Bet he likes it rough. Look at him run.”

I broke into a jog, breath already coming in pathetic little gasps. They jogged too. One of them whistled sharp, mocking.

“Aw, don’t run, baby! We’ll be gentle! Promise!”

My lungs burned. Legs shook so badly I almost tripped. I turned another corner, random alley, then another street and spotted neon lights ahead. A bar. It was open. Music thumping low through the door. I didn’t think. I just shoved inside, door banging shut behind me, bell jingling like I’d just walked into a trap I didn’t know existed yet.

Guys were everywhere, guys dancing, guys leaning at the bar, guys kissing in corners. Rainbow flag on the wall. Drag queen on a small stage lip-syncing something dramatic. Gay bar. Of fucking course.

I froze just inside the door, small and trembling, face burning hot.

A few people looked up and then continued what they were doing. I turned to leave, already backing up like the coward I was. But when I did, I saw the thugs still lingering around. One of them made a gesture with their hand, calling me over.

“Come. Over. Here. Pretty. Boy.” another mumbled this, slowly moving his lips so I could read them. My legs almost wobbled, fuck it, I was gay anyway, a gay bar couldn't be that bad?

A hand landed on my shoulder… firm but not rough.

“Hey, you okay?” Deep voice. Older guy. Bartender maybe. He had a beard and kind eyes. “You look like you’re running from something.”

I shrugged him off weakly, shoulders curling in. “I’m fine. Just… needed a second.” My voice came out tiny and cracked.

He nodded toward the bar. “Sit. Water’s free. You don’t have to pay.”

I hesitated, eyes darting back to the door. I could still hear faint laughter outside, those guys probably circling, waiting. No way was I going back out there yet. My legs felt too weak to even try.

I slid onto a stool at the far end, trying to make myself as small as possible. The bartender slid a glass of water over without asking. I downed half in one go, throat raw, hand shaking around the glass.

“Thanks,” I muttered, barely above a whisper.

“No problem. You want something stronger? On the house if you need it.”

I shook my head quickly, eyes on the counter. “Nah. I’m good.”

He leaned on the bar. “You sure? You walked in like the devil himself was chasing you.”

“Close enough,” I said. My voice cracked again,

pathetic. “Today’s been… a lot.”

He nodded and didn’t push. Just wiped a glass. “I work here. If anyone bothers you in here, you yell. We look out for our own.”

I almost laughed, but it came out as a shaky little breath. Our own. Like I belonged here. Like I even knew what I was anymore.

A drink appeared in front of me. bright blue, umbrella, cherry on top. Fancy. Not water.

I frowned, shrinking back a little. “I didn’t order this.”

He shrugged. “Guy at the end of the bar sent it. Thought you looked thirsty.”

I looked down the bar. Empty stool. No one there. “Who?”

“Dunno. He left right after. Probably shy.”

I stared at the cocktail. Pretty. Innocent-looking. My mouth was dry again. And I was really thirsty.

“I didn’t mean to… whatever. Thanks, I guess.” I picked it up with both hands so it wouldn’t spill from how badly I was trembling.

Smelled it.. sweet, fruity, alcohol underneath. One sip couldn’t hurt. Just to be polite. Just to cool off.

I took a long pull.

It tasted good.

My head swam almost immediately. The room tilted. And the bartender's face blurred.

“Hey…. kid…”

I tried to stand. My legs didn’t work. Stool tipped. I grabbed for the bar… missed and the floor rushed up.

The last thing I heard was the guy yelling something…..

Then black.

Nothing.