We Are Tidal

Chapter Twenty-Eight - The Broadcast

*Potential Trigger Warning:

This chapter makes mention of sexual exploitation, please read with caution.*

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The Broadcast

For several days after our night out, nothing truly remarkable happens. Life continues in the beautiful banality that is college classes, dance rehearsal, and evenings with Art. We formed a habit of making dinner together at my house after classes. Sometimes he would bring wine, other times he'd collect donuts on his way over. Every time, I kiss him deeply when I opened the door and laugh into his mouth that I'd missed it, even though it had only been a day.

Once I told Art that being with Gab was like being with him all day and he feigned insults, telling me that Gab was a little too eccentric for that to be believable.

This evening is one of those blissful days. Neither of us felt like cooking after a late evening seminar, so Art had arrived with Chinese takeaway in hand. Sometimes he sleeps over and mostly, we end up having sex. It's the kind of sex that is close and intimate. In a lot of ways, it still feels like a homecoming, a victory at our reunion. Part of me never wants that feeling to wear off.

We had decided to watch Game of Thrones together, Art having never seen it. To me, this was as good as sacrilege.

As I twist some chow mein around my spoon, my legs curled under me on the couch, I watch Art's eyes widen as Joffery begins to choke, clasping and clawing at his own throat horribly.

"Wait, is this it? Is he finally dead?" Art asks me excitedly, his food is forgotten entirely.

I grin and Art runs his hands through his hair as the end credits arrive and lets himself fall back into the comfy couch cushion, his chest still heaving with excitement.

"Well, your verdict?" I ask, enjoying him enjoying something I love so much more than I can say.

Art releases a deep breath and pats Arya's head gently as she noses his plate hopefully.

"Well, I can see why you named these babies after the Stark sisters. What a show," He says and I smile down fondly at Arya and look over my shoulder to spy Sansa snoring softly from her bed in the kitchen. She was always the sleepiest sister puppy.

"And you only have the worst quality seasons ahead of you, good luck," I say, mockingly saluting him.

Art shoots me a crooked grin and throws a cushion at me, accidentally knocking over my glass of wine from the low coffee table. Red spills over the carpet and he leaps up, his phone falling from his lap as he runs to the kitchen for a towel.

I can't bring myself to feel worried about the carpet, even though my mother would already have the carpet cleaner out and have rung a cleaning company for advice. Maybe it's the effects of the wine itself that makes it easy to not care.

"It's okay!" I say, laughing and reaching over the give his arm a reassuring squeeze. He bats away my hand, still flushed.

"I didn't come here to destroy your house," He jokes weakly, just as his phone gives a quick succession of beeps. "Can you get that for me? It might be the guys."

I rummage under the couch to find his phone, the screen brightly with messages flashing before my eyes. Messages with pictures. I freeze, my heart thumping louder in my chest by the minute.

"Dyl, what is it? Is it Kit asking me to bring home food?" Art asks me, still ducked low and trying his best to clean the carpet.

I want to answer, to hand him his phone and demand answers, but I am still, my body beginning to shock. With a single swipe, I unlock Art's phone. His passcode hasn't changed. Our initial anniversary date prior to our break-up.

When the screen lights up with the images I saw in the preview of the message, my heart sinks and I begin to shake. It's a message from Cole, Damien's best friend. The text message is simple.

Nothing you haven't seen before, right?

"Dyl? Are you okay?" I don't have to turn around to know that Art is standing up now, looking at me. His voice is full of concern. I think about not facing him. Simply asking him to leave and throwing his phone out of the door after him, leaving me time to safely lock the door and run upstairs and hide under the covers before he realises what's wrong.

Instead, I have to be brave. Be the adult that these pictures depict me as.

I turn and face Art, holding out his phone to him with no hint of accusation. Confused, he takes it and scans the screen, his face going pale as he flicks through the images before him.

"I... Dyl... I would never..." His voice trails off in horror and I scoff.

"I know that Art, I promise," I say earnestly, taking his hand in mine as he drops his phone back onto the couch. "They're of me... sleeping."

My phone begins to vibrate continually and I know, I just know, that the news has gotten out. Or was sent out.

"Damien," Art spits the name out in a single quiet hiss. I look at him sharply, never having heard that tone in his voice.

I nod, growing numb as the realisation that my body is now open for the entire campus, and the internet. I almost trip on my way to the bathroom to hurl.

A/N:

Hello friends,

It feels good to be back on a schedule with Wattpad! Thank you so much for understanding about my thesis deadline, you have my eternal love.

Love,

Jens x