NIGHTMARE

chapter 10

Sanzu's POV.

I walked into the room, pissed as hell.

I hated being on babysitting duty; there were other executives in Bonten, but Mikey insisted that I be the one to watch over Y/N as she got ready.

He liked to mess me around and disrupt my plans; it was a brother thing, and I fucking hated how annoying it got.

I let myself into the room, expecting to be attacked, but there was nothing.

She sat on the bed; she didn't even flinch when I approached her.

This was new.

But then I saw her eyes; they were bloodshot and red.

She looked... baked.

That asshole had gotten her stoned.

Great, now this was my problem.

I bet that this girl had never even set eyes on a joint, let alone smoked one before.

Fucking hell, Mikey wanted her downstairs in an hour.

She had to be sobered up in an hour.

I pulled back the sleeve of my suit, checking my Rolex.

I sighed heavily and gazed out the window; it was pouring and miserable, just like this job was right now.

"Get up." I brought my attention back to Y/N; she didn't even seem to register that I was speaking to her at first before she let out a delayed groan.

"No." She pouted and flopped back on the bed like an unhappy child.

Her head was buried in the pillow, and she continued to groan. Her head must have been pounding.

"Get up at once; Mikey wants you downstairs in what? Fifty-three minutes now; if you're not there, we'll have some problems." I took a deep breath, attempting to keep my cool. I was ready to scream at this bitch.

I snatched the pillow from her, getting her to meet my gaze. Even when she looked like shit, she still looked beautiful.

"My head hurts." She bit her bottom lip and stared into my eyes like she was about to burst into tears. Why did Mikey leave her the joint?

Absolute asshole.

"You need to sober up; that'll fix your head." I rolled my eyes; she had obviously never encountered a high or been so drunk that she couldn't stand up.

Well, the Bonten was going to change that for her.

I looped one arm around her small waist and the other around her arm, heaving her up and onto her feet.

She swayed from side to side and wobbled.

I tightened my grip on her, afraid that she would fall over.

We hobbled towards the bathroom, where I sat her down on the side of the bath while I turned the taps for the shower.

It needed to be freezing cold; that way she would sober up in the fastest time possible.

"It's going to be cold, like absolutely freezing cold; you're going to hate every moment of being in that shower. But it's going to help you sober up for tonight. The last thing anyone wants to deal with is you while high at dinner." She looked slightly offended, but I didn't really care.

This girl was a handful, and I hated her for it.

I rolled my sleeves up and tested the water; yep, that was horribly cold.

"I don't want to," she said, trying to stand up. I rushed to help her; if she died on my watch, then Mikey would kill me as well.

"You have to," I told her.

This entire encounter was making me resent Y/N even more than I already did.

She was mouthy and defiant; she couldn't follow instructions; she was a runner; and now she was high.

This shit was pissing me off.

She made a weak attempt to shove me away, pushing against my chest.

I scoffed; her attempt to stop me was hilarious.

Her small hands traced the tattoos on my arms. I gave her a warning stare, telling her to back off; she wasn't herself.

"I'm going to go get you some makeup and something to help your high; have a shower, and there's a dress on the back of the door," I told her, resting her up against the wall.

Surely, she could take two baby steps into the shower without damaging herself.

I left the room and made my way down the stairs. Mikey was sitting at a table, meeting with other men.

We caught each other's eyes, and they let out an amused and satisfied smirk at my pissed-off expression and rolled up their sleeves.

I shook my head as they let out a low chuckle at me, thinking this was the funniest joke Mikey had ever played on me. Well, it wasn't.

I made my way down to the holding cells where the men had taken all of the other girls who had been in the meeting room earlier. I let myself into the room, grabbed a bag of makeup, and left.

It made it worse if I saw their helpless faces.

Not that I cared about them; I just didn't want to know them before they died.

I went next to the kitchen, pulling some medication and a bottle of water from the cupboard before continuing to finish my loop back towards the room.

I pulled the key from my side pocket, underneath my gun, unlocking the door.

Y/N stood looking in the mirror at herself, brushing her hair.

God, she was so beautiful.

Her hair (c) was curled in natural spirals down her back, her (c) eyes were focused solely on her brushing, and her warm pink lips were pressed together in almost unbreakable concentration.

Kokonoi had given her a skin-tight black dress to wear; it wrapped around her small frame perfectly and was not quite long enough to reach her knees.

"Take this; it will help," I told her. Unable to stop staring, she took the pill and water from my hands and, without hesitation, shoved them down her throat.

She must have been feeling pretty shy to take medication from me without questioning what it was.

She struggled to do up her spaghetti-strapped dress, heaving at the zipper, which wouldn't budge.

I gripped it and pulled it up her back, noticing the red rims of her eyes. She'd be sober soon enough.

I didn't want to be here when she was, though. For someone so small, her mouth made up for what her height lacked.

"You have about twenty minutes to be ready," I told her. "When you're sober enough, do your makeup. Mikey will be up here soon." I walked to the door, pulled out the key, and left.

I couldn't have her.

She wasn't mine.

It didn't matter how beautiful I thought she was; she would never be in my arms.

She was Mikey's, and I wasn't about to test him.