RIP: A Stain on My Ex's Life

Hadrian and I were classmates in high school. He had excellent grades, while I was always at the bottom of the class. It wasn't because I was stupid, though. I simply had no time to study.

My dad, Aaron Sterling, was a drunk. My mom, unable to endure poverty and domestic violence, left us after giving birth to my younger sister, Christine Sterling.

From the time I entered middle school, I had to pay my own tuition and buy baby food for Christine. I took on every job I could find and anything that paid me. As long as there was money involved, I did it.

Hadrian and I had little to do with each other in and out of school until the night he saw me serving drinks at a private club.

That evening, Hadrian was there to negotiate a business deal on behalf of his dad, Enrique Sinclair, who had been called away at the last minute. He had only been a teenager then, and though his face was youthful, it already carried an air of understated authority.

When Hadrian spotted me, he froze for a moment. He didn't say much and ordered a few bottles of expensive liquor.

I shot him a grateful look. Those few bottles earned me enough money to sustain Christine and my living expenses for a month.

Hadrian didn't drink. He just sat there quietly and kept his clients company.

But one of Enrique's business partners drank too much and staggered over, reeking of alcohol. He grabbed me by the waist and tried to kiss me.

Terrified, I dodged and said, "I'm sorry, sir. I only pour drinks."

"Well, you came here to work, didn't you? Stop pretending. Kiss me, and I'll give you ten thousand dollars!" the man insisted, his putrid breath making my stomach churn.

I'd had enough and was about to fight back when Hadrian reacted first. He smashed a bottle over the man's head and dragged me out of the club without a second thought.

Unsurprisingly, that business deal fell through, for him and for me.

The next day at school, I saw the unmistakable handprint on Hadrian's face.

After class, I bought a chilled bottle of mineral water and approached him. "Why did you help me?"

Hadrian pressed the cold bottle to his cheek and replied, "That's not a place you should be. Don't go back there again."

As I looked into his eyes, the refusal got stuck in my throat. After a while, I murmured, "Okay. I promise."

I quit the high-paying job at the club and started handing out flyers and delivering food. However, I wasn't alone anymore because Hadrian worked alongside me.

This wealthy young scion fought for delivery orders even more fiercely than I did. At the end of the month, he handed me all the money he'd earned.

"I know you won't accept it if I just give it to you. But this is money I earned myself. Take it. From now on, what's mine is yours."

Back then, when I was holding the money, I felt for the first time that I had someone I could depend on.

Before long, Hadrian and I were admitted to the same college. Neither of us confessed to the other. We simply progressed naturally into a relationship.

Two boys being together inevitably attracted gossip, but he didn't care. Every time we went out, he openly held my hand.

To make money, Hadrian began investing and trading stocks. He said he needed to be financially independent because his parents would never accept us, and that he wanted to give me a future free of worries.

Thanks to my looks, I picked up some modeling jobs. Life slowly began to improve. No one blessed our relationship, but we lived happily every day.

At that time, I believed we would stay that way forever.

My life was perfect until Dad, drunk as usual, injured someone and was thrown into jail. Rumors had it that the victim had powerful connections. I was at a loss.

I could have turned my back on Dad, but Christine cried and begged me to help. My heart softened.

Hadrian was abroad with his mentor for a competition that he and his team had prepared for over half a year. I didn't want to distract him or burden him with my family's mess, so I kept it from him and went to face the victim myself.

The man was middle-aged. He sat amid a crowd, watching me like how a butcher would eye a lamb for slaughter.

"Drink all the liquor on this table, and I'll spare your father," he said.

The table was lined with bottles of hard liquor enough for ten men to drink the night away. If I drank it all, my stomach would be ruined.

But I had no choice. Amid the jeers and laughter of the onlookers, I lifted the first glass.

I didn't know how much I drank. When I woke again, I was lying on an unfamiliar and large bed.

"Are you awake?"

I turned toward the voice and saw that it was the middle-aged man.

"What are you trying to do?" I asked warily, trying to sit up, but found myself unable to move.

It was then that I realized the liquor must have been spiked.

He rose slowly and stripped off his clothes as he loomed over me.

"Let me go!"

I struggled with all my strength, but I couldn't make him budge at all.

Panic consumed me, and a despair I'd never known before wrapped itself all over me securely.

"Get away from me, you beast! Let me go!"

I clawed my way toward the edge of the bed, only to have him seize my ankle and drag me back.

I didn't want to give in, but the thought of Hadrian and how devastated he would be if he found out about this made me drop my pride.

I begged, "Please let me go. I'll do anything you want. Please!"

The man laughed at my words. "Anything?"

I nodded frantically.

"You hear that? What are you all standing around for?" he called out to the darkness.

Only then did I realize we weren't alone. There were others in the room. They grinned as they approached me, eyes gleaming like predators closing in on trapped prey.

I kept retreating until I grabbed the bedside lamp. Then, I hurled it with all the strength I could muster.

Someone knocked it aside effortlessly and clamped a hand hard around my throat.

"This kid doesn't know his place," one of them sneered.

"Fine. Let's teach him."

A chill shot up my thighs as someone yanked down my pants.