Sweet tune ( karlnap )

good boy

YO 2K READS THANK YOU SO MUCH YALL!!!
BIG BIG BIG TW FOR THIS CHAPTER!! Mentions of drugs, r4pe, alcohol, graphic drescriptions of gore ig???
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The week after the party was hell.
The guilt was eating my thoughts, my body, my sleep. I furiously bit my nails in an attempt to feed my hungry anxiety, I got so high i couldn't even talk, i got so drunk i couldn't even walk. I felt disgusting, dirty, a traitor.
One night, after our usual concert, I sat up from my messy bed, tired of my own mind consuming me.
I had to do something about it.
//

I took a shaky breath before knocking on the dark oak of his office door.
"Come in." He called faintly.
I felt a warm rush swarm to my head, spinning it around. I hesitated before turning the handle.

He sat on his chair, a hand nested in his raven hair and the other arm heavily leaned over the desk; He read a letter, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and a frown stamped on his lips.
"Good morning Mr. Quackity." I faintly greeted.
He quickly looked up, a cold stare meeting my figure. He had been ignoring me for the prior few days, swiftly walking away as he saw me in the casino yet constantly glaring in my direction with that damned face of his.
"Hello." He uttered indifferently.

"I..." I started before nervously clearing my voice and walking towards him.
"I wanted to ask you something...sir." I timidly spoke.
He chuckled a bit, amused by my clumsiness and suddently curious. I stayed quiet for a few seconds, letting an awkward layer of silence fall upon us before he raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes. "Go on." He said, grabbing a cigarette from his pocket and keeping it between his lips.
I fixed my sleeve, squeezing the fabric between my fingers to calm myself down.
"I have an emergency back in Florida, and I really need to go there for a few days...please." I muttered, embarassed.
He simply scoffed, lighting the cigarette and puffing out a cloud of smoke.
"I'm sorry Karl, i thought you knew how our casino worked." He simply responded.
I furrowed my eyebrows, confused. "What?"
"You signed the papers, didn't you?" He spoke. I hesitantly nodded.
"And you didn't read them?" He interrogated, putting his shoes on the desk and crossing them.
"I did." I responded, now really annoyed. He seemed to like it, he seemed to find amusement into treating me like an idiot.
"You didn't read the part where it said that you have to work for sixty days before earning the right to take days off, though."
I blinked a few times, trying to calm myself down.
"It's really important, boss. I beg you." I insisted, agitated.
"And tell me, Karl, why would I let you break my own rules?" He calmly responded, checking his wristwatch and taking the cigarette from his lips.
"My grandmother is really sick." I lied, mumbling. He stopped for a second, looking at me apprehensively. "I hope she gets better soon." He simply said, his intentions still the same.
I stayed silent, petrified. What an asshole.

He suddently rose up, throwing the half- finished fag into an ashtray on the table and brushing his clothes elegantly.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have matters to take care of." He dismissed me, about to walk away. As he reached for the door handle my patience burst in a million pieces.
"I remember everything, you know!" I shouted, shoving him forward.
He slowly turned around, burning my skin with something i had never seen in his eyes.
"Excuse me?" He responded, and that was enough to know I messed up. Still, my anger overcame the fear.
"I remember everything, i remember how drunk I was, how you brought me to my apartment and fu-" I screamed, uncaring of the consequences. He jumped over me, covering my mouth with his hand and pushing me against a wall.
"Have you lost your goddamn mind, kid?!" He whispered with tight teeth, his breath hitting my neck. I bit his hand, making him jump back and free me, just to sling a punch at my face. I held a palm to my hurting jaw.
"You're a fucking asshole." I barked.
He ran to the desk, took a key and locked the door.
I don't know why i didn't try to fight it. I just stood there, terrified and blinded by rage yet still so interested by his every movement, by his angry words, by his intimidating gaze.
He pointed his index to my chest and locked his boiling eyes to mine. Only then i noticed how big his pupils were.
"Are you trying to threaten me? Yeah? You think i'll hesitate before beating you sensless?" He hissed, getting closer and raising a hand to tighten on my neck.
I spat on him, trying to wriggle myself out of his grip but unable to do anything but slowly lose oxygen.
Just as i felt my fingertips getting numb and my head getting light, an angel saved me.