Rescue | Tronnor

Chapter Four

CONNOR

I'm scrolling through Tumblr. I am supposed to be looking up hiring businesses, but the pull of Tumblr is as strong as ever.

I smile at a GIF of a kitten pouncing on a laser pointer. Reblog a picture of a latte, because Lord knows I love my coffee. Some YouTuber went missing. No social media or anything. The fangirls were going crazy.

Well, maybe the guy wanted his privacy for a while.

I like the post and kept scrolling.

After ten Tumblr minutes(aka three hours), I decide to go for a walk. It might do me some good, just to get endorphins in my system.

I dress in jeans and a T-shirt and head out.

TROYE

Now? No. I'm not ready now!

I slowly get up and begin walking toward the door. Kris stops me, grabbing my left hand, and whispers "Good luck". She holds my gaze and hand for a moment, then lets go.

I follow Cobra outside, where a man is leaning against his car. His hair is a light mint green, and large glasses emphasize his features. He's kind of good-looking, but you never know with men buying a prostitute.

I shiver. Prostitute. This is what I am now?

I keep my left hand balled in a fist.

"Troye, this is Mr. Oakley," Cobra's voice has gone silky and suave, like a persuasive business man.

"Please, call me Tyler." Mr. Oakley--Tyler--has a strange glimmer in his eye. I'm terrified inside.

Tyler opens the door and I get inside. After he shuts the door, Cobra and Tyler talk briefly outside, shake hands, and Cobra heads back to the house. Tyler starts coming around the back of the car.

He sits down in the driver's seat and starts driving.

"So," he says slowly, "Your manager tells me this is your first time."

"Yes." I keep my eyes focused outside the window, at the passing pedestrians. It sickens me how this Tyler Oakley uses such a casual tone when speaking to a prostitute.

"Don't worry," he continues. "I'm not rough."

I sigh to myself. I'm far from a virgin. I've had a few guys behind my family's back now and then, but it's been a while.

Tyler turns the knob on the radio, turning it up. I nearly jump out of the car. It is my song. Touch. From my EP, TRXYE, released just a month before.

Tyler studies my face inquisitively. "I know who you are."

I shrug. "A lot of people do."

There is a long pause before he asks, "Could you sing for me?"

"Well, you've got it on the radio right now," I mutter.

Tyler taps a button on the radio. Dead silence.

"Not anymore," he smirks.

I sigh in exasperation. "Alright." I take a deep breath and begin.

"Glow is low and it's dimming

And the silence is reigning

And I can always feel your breath

I can always feel the rest

Night is young and we're living

Hands--" I stop abruptly when Tyler's hand lands on my thigh, dangerously close to my crotch. His other hand is steady on the wheel, thank god.

"Keep going," he says in a raspier tone, emphasizing his words with a squeeze to my leg.

"H-hands move

Moving steady," I stammer, as his hand glides slowly up my leg. Soon, his hand is nestled right on my crotch. I want to push him off, but I can't. He paid for me. I have to do this.

"And the time is moving slow

I can feel we're getting closer

Closer

Standing in the eye of the storm

My eyes start to roll

Into the curl of your lips

In the center of eclipse

In total darkness I

Reach out and

Touch. Ahh..."

I bite my lip as Tyler squeezes my now hardening bulge. A moan escapes my lips, and he grins in satisfaction as we come to a stop in front of a small house.

"We're here," he says.

I get out of the car, amidst the suddenly crowded sidewalk.

As Tyler ushers me to the front door, I keep my eyes on the passerby, still to embarrassed at what was going to happen to me.

A flash of dark green eyes is the last thing I see before the door shuts behind me.