FAKE LOVE: Used Like His Toy

“Don’t you dare force your way out, or else I’ll make you regret it,” the old hag whispered as he slammed Ren against the wall.

Ren silently sobbed as the man continued harassing him. He had taken on a shift for his roommate Liam, who had begged him to cover it. Ren had rejected the idea at first; he was not ok working in a bar. He had thought about working in the VIP lounge, but his mind wasn't at rest, but Liam's pleading eyes wore him down.

Liam was his only friend and roommate, the one person who has been there for him, his only friend. Ren had always given in because he couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, of being truly alone.

But now, pinned against the cold wall, he wondered if it was worth it for Liam; the thought of it happening to Liam made him feel worse.

He had been ordered to serve drinks at the VIP lounge, a place he’d never worked before; he carried a tray with cocktails when he got inside the particular room number he was sent to.

Ren had always lost things precious to him, and that was the last thing he had left that was still precious to him, something he hadn’t even realised he was guarding until now that it was gone. 

He’d lost everything before—his family, his home, his sense of safety—but this was different; this was a stranger he hadn't met before stealing the last thing he told himself was precious, what he thought was untouchable.

“Please…” was the only broken word he could release as tears streamed down his face.

He couldn’t scream; his voice had ceased. He swallowed the pain that seeped through his body, the man’s roughness, his disgusting fingers, and his alcohol-stinking mouth.

 Ren’s legs trembled under his lap, but he endured every bit until it ended, his mind blank except for the pain and sting he felt in between his legs.

When the man pulled away, he dressed quickly, tossing a wad of cash at Ren’s feet as if it could erase what he’d done. Ren just let the money fall, scattering across the floor.

He couldn’t recognise the man’s face; his eyes were sparkling with tears, too wet to pick up the man’s face, blurred as tears poured out without control. The man left without feeling any pang of guilt.

After minutes of struggling to stand, he gripped the wall for support, his fingers finding a way to keep him balanced. Slowly, he rose, still feeling the pain that felt too severe.

 He limped out of the room, going back downstairs to the bar where people were drinking, dancing, and laughing, having fun. No one noticed him in the wrinkled uniform, his walking posture, his present state, his face filled with tears, or even his unsteady steps.

As he got outside, the night air was cold against his skin that was too red; he stared at the marks created by the unknown man, which made his tears pour out again.

His phone buzzed in his pocket; he fumbled for it with trembling hands. He wiped his eyes to see who was calling, and it was Liam's name displaying on the screen, which made him feel so furious.

 Liam, who begged him to take this shift.

Liam, who had promised it would be fine.

Liam, who had said it was going to be about serving drinks.

Ren let the call go to voicemail; he was trying to hide it from Liam so that he wouldn't be guilt-tripped. 

 He remembered Liam’s grin that morning, his smile as he said, “You’re a lifesaver, Ren. I owe you one.” Ren had shrugged it off, like always, because that’s what he did; he always gave in, and he was always the one taking the blame.

He didn’t know how to go back inside, how to face the rest of the shift, or how to look Liam in the eye when he got home.

Home? It wasn't home; it was more like a place to sleep.

The club’s entrance was behind him; he tried going in but couldn’t re-enter. He didn’t know where he was going, only that he needed to go back home and scrub himself clean, removing the scent of the man. The thought made him shudder in disgust of who had touched him.

Ren stopped a taxi. When he arrived home, Liam had gone to bed, and he didn't want to wake Liam up, so he just used the bathroom. Soaking himself in the bathtub, he sobbed, scrubbing himself harder, harder, harder, harder, till he heard foot sounds.

After making sure he was clean, he stepped out of the bathroom to meet Liam sitting on their bed; he just smiled awkwardly and started wiping his hair.

“What's wrong!” Liam asked, looking up at him suspiciously.

“What? Nothing.”

“Yeah, I believe, for someone who was screaming his whole lungs out in the bathroom,” Liam said, looking up at him like he didn't believe him.

“It’s really nothing.”

“Ren, you know we are friends, right? and friends don't keep secrets from each other; you should spit it out. I might be of help to you; it's not good to bottle it all in. I heard you screaming in the bathroom; you should tell me what happened.” Ren looked.

“I don't want to talk about it; can you please not ask me?” Ren pleaded.

“I won't, but anytime you can't keep it in again, I'm here for you, ok? Always know that I wish you well.” Liam smiled, looking at Ren.

He just paused, tears threatening to fall off his face, staring at the only person who had always wished him well, the only person who had always been there for him, and the only person who had stood up for him when he was newly admitted to uni. “Thank you,” he whispered, walking up to Liam and giving him a hug.

“I just hope you don't keep it in for too long; I hope we'll sort it out together,” Liam said, hugging him back. “And I hope you'll tell me everything; I'll never leave you behind.”

Ren sobbed harder before whispering, “I was raped.”