Unreliable

16 - forced to

Trigger/Content Warning: Domestic Abuse, Domestic Violence, Homophobia, Kidnapping (yeah, this chapter is ROUGH)

Charles' POV

Fred called me yesterday to tell me he wanted to talk to me. Apparently, he had a talk with FIA's CEO, which is only known by Brian, nothing else, and they talked about my relationship with Max. Now, I don't know what the fuck is going on in that rich, spoiled bastard's mind, but my relationship with Max is none of their motherfucking business. It's mine and Max's business, not them.

I reposition myself in his chair, again. "God this chair is uncomfortable," I thought to myself. There was only one reason that Fred called me here, and I didn't want it to be real.

"Charles," I hear Fred's voice behind me as he closes the office door. "Glad to see that you showed up. I didn't think you would, considering the situation."

I nod lightly and my shining smile quickly turns into a frown. "You can cut the bullshit, Fred. I know why I'm here."

He sighs lightly before grabbing some pieces of paperwork and slamming them on the table. "I just want you to know, I had nothing to do with this decision. It was fully the FIA."

"I have to sign this?" I point at the pieces of paperwork stapled infront of me and I skim rapidly through the pages. "Am I obligated to sign this contract?"

"Courtney already signed it. You are now obligated to do so." Fuck. I am fully forced into being in a PR Relationship with Courtney.

I sigh loudly and I grab the blue pen. I hesitantly and I sign the document. I am now, unfortunately, in a PR Relationship with Courtney. For, fucks, sake.

Unfortunately, this is not my first rodeo. I've been in a PR Relationship before and this is how it starts. With a contract and a shit-ton of hate.

"Now," Fred continues. "As you might now, in a PR Relationship there is a person that will guide you through the relationship and will tell you and Courtney what you both should do."

Yeah, unfortunately, I need to have someone to boss me around.

While I don't want to have a relationship with Courtney, after all the shit that happened, I have to act like I have a vitamin D deficiency and the sun is shining out of her ass.

Now, obviously, I'm still going to be secretly dating Max, but nobody's going to know or going to give a fuck. I mean, it isn't your goddamn business anyway.

"The person that's going to orient your relationship is a nice woman named Carla." Calling her nice is a huge motherfucking overstatement. "Obviously, you're not going to like her." That's an understatement.

I scoff. "Bitchy?" Fred lifts an eyebrow at my unexpected insult.

He organizes the paperwork and puts it in a drawer of his desk. "Depends on your perspective."

Suddenly, the door behind me opens and I hear heels clapping on the floor. Carla.

Her stunningly crafted body walking perfectly through Fred's office, and I'm trying hard not to start drooling all over the place.

Her blonde hair, tied at the back, looking absolutely wonderful. Damn, I wish I had dated this girl instead of Courtney.

"Hello, Charles." She reaches out a hand, probably to give me a handshake and I hesistantly give in to the handshake. Her hands were definitely dry, almost like a rock. Definitely not equal to my sweaty palms, almost the texture of a river.

"Hi." I struggle to say as my nervousness is starting to show a lot. She lifts an eyebrow but then grabs her iPhone and reads something while loudly chewing her gum.

I wouldn't want to ruin our relationship now, but, the noise of her chewing gum is fucking annoying. I just want to rip her skin apart and open that mouth, maybe breaking teeth, maybe not, stick into there and remove that fucking piece of gum by force.

Actually - that was a bit overboard.

Anyway, she continues chewing her gum loudly and keeps looking at her iPhone. I have no motherfucking idea what she's going on that goddamn device but it sure as hell isn't something good.

My mouth starts feeling thirsty so I reach for the glass of water on the table. "You should stop being a faggot."

The sudden and unexpected comment from Carla made me spit my water all over the floor. "What the fuck is your problem?" I ask, wiping my mouth with my arm.

"You're not going to have any fans if you're walking around, sassy, like a faggot. You need to come out to the public and say you were wrong. That you're not a faggot and that you're straight. It's just a phase." Those last three words made me sick to my stomach.

"Charles. You're not gay. It's just a motherfucking phase." Nyck spits in my face as he continues tying my hands together to the chair.

Nyck always does this. Every freaking time I do something he doesn't like, he ties me to his wooden chair, which stays in the middle of an oddly lit room in his house's basement.

I try to yell something but the tape covers my mouth's vibrations and my screams come out only as soft moans. "What did you say, faggot? I couldn't hear your whiny ass."

I try to get out of tightly-tied knot but I wasn't able to move a millimeter. "You're going to stay here, thinking about what you did, faggot."

The amount of times he said the word "faggot" almost made me feel like there was a competition to say the F-slur the most times. By the way, look at yourself in the fucking mirror. Have you forgotten that we once fucked to oblivion for more than 2 hours? My hairy cock must've hit all the right spots in his prostate that he forgot.

I try to break through the tight knot which Nyck used while tying my hands together with the chair. My hands don't break free, unfortunately.

I'm stuck in this room for the next few hours. Or the next few days.

"Charles? Charles?" Fred's voice snaps me out of my random flashback. "Fuck! I really need to find a therapist to help me with these flashbacks." I thought to myself.

"Yeah... yeah... I'm here." I reposition myself in my chair as I look at Carla and back at Charles. "When do we start?" I just accepted the worst fucking thing I could've ever accepted.