Chapter 7

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I wake up to a new message from jerk wondering when I had even fallen asleep. At least I'm on time—better on time than usual. I open the message after getting dressed and making myself a coffee. He has sent me a link with the message below: Watch it till the end.

I click on the link right away because I don't have much time, and I really want to be on time today. There's something about it that makes me feel proud of myself.

I drink my coffee, hit play, and choke when I hear the moaning of a boy. I immediately turn down the volume, even though I am obviously alone, and press pause.

ur provoking it

I know exactly what I'm doing.

i told u i dont watch gay porn

Now you do

Have fun.

I click back to the video and take a deep breath. I swear softly, put my coffee away. It's only two minutes. That's almost nothing. I hit play. There isn't really much happening. Well, actually there is, but only in one position. Straight on for two minutes. I watch it because I have to, but holy shit, these two minutes are intense. With every second that passes, I take a closer look. It's not only the boy's moaning and wining that points how hard he fucks him. There are other noises. The bed railing hitting the wall. How he gasps for air at every thrust. I swallow hard.

It's almost over when I pause it again.

can i tocuh myself

Sure

Just don't come.

what do i have to do for an exception

pls

No exceptions.

Touch yourself all you want but no coming.

whats the f point in tocuhin if i cant come

Did you watch it till the end?

almost

ur a terrible person

Watch the end.

I go back to the video and hit play. It's the last few seconds when the boy starts cursing—a lot. I swear he must be so close to coming. But then the video just ends. The screen goes black and only shows the repeat button.

is this a punishment

no its more of torture

It's more than only a punishment.

for what

bc i got angry yesterday?

can i swear again when we meet?

No

i f hate u sm

great

now im late and hard

I put my phone down and finish my coffee. I smoke another cigarette. I am just barely late. It's worse than being very late—just past the time.

While at work, I feel my phone vibrate but don't look at it until my break.

Write me on your break.

im on my break now

Send me your location.

why????

Send it now, I don't have all day.

61 bloom st

How long's your break?

3pm

I smoke my next cigarette during the break. It's not that it's bad; three is a daily minimum for me, has always been that way, and probably always will be. Unless I'm stressed.

My phone starts ringing just as I'm about to go back inside. I hesitate for a moment, really don't want to take it when I see who it is. But I do anyway when I think of my sister. "Yes?"

"Oscar, hi," says the stressed-sounding voice of my mother. "Look, something came up for the weekend."

"And?"

"And..." She takes a short pause. "Your dad really wants to go on a date. Well, me too, of course. We both really want to go..."

"Get to the point, Mom. My break's almost over."

"Fine," she says slowly. "Do you have time tomorrow?"

I let out a deep breath. "I already have plans for tomorrow. Is Friday okay?"

"No, Oscar. I already said that. The whole weekend doesn't work."

"Well then why don't you just postpone it until next weekend?"

"Oscar, come on," she says, and only then do I notice a guy who suddenly stops right in front of me. I think I know this guy. "I never ask anything of you. Never. And you haven't seen your sister in a month. Why don't you make some time for her this one time?"

I put my hand to the microphone. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Oscar?"

"Hang on, Mom." I look at him. "My break's almost over."

"Then maybe you should hurry up," the man says.

"Oscar??"

"Yes," I say into my phone. "Gotta go. We'll talk later." Then I just hang up. "What do you want?"

"Very polite."

"Sorry," I say, closing my eyes for a second. "Sorry. I'm really not in a good mood."

"I know. You said you were frustrated."

"Whatever. I gotta go back." I throw away my cigarette.

"Oscar," he says and I stop. He gives me a small black box. "Don't open it until I tell you, understood?"

"Is that all?"

"No," he says in a strict, kind of angry tone. Then he takes a step toward me, and only now do I look him up and down. His coat is buttoned up to the top, and he even wears a scarf. "Sigh at me one more time and the four days will turn into a week."

"Whoa," I laugh. "You're such a drama queen. Calm down, man."

He smiles. "Five days."

"What the—" I look at him in shock. "I didn't sigh??"

"You know the reason. You don't disrespect me, is that clear?"

"I speak to you like I do to anyone else. Do you want me to pretend I'm intimidated or what?" I take a deep breath as he just looks at me with that straight face. "Fine," I say, but the anger is burning inside me, I'm all tense, and I definitely don't mean it when I add, "I'm sorry."

"We'll meet on Friday."

I want to kill him. I really want to kill him. He's ruining my everyday life. And when he turns and leaves, my phone vibrates and displays another message from my mother: I could move something. We're doing Friday. Fate must really hate me.

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