Stay High

Chapter One

Please Note: This story is only posted to chapter 10. To continue reading after chapter 10, you will need to follow my Patreon.

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a reminder for the following trigger warnings and content warnings:

- Sexual assault
- Physical abuse
- Mental/emotional abuse and gaslighting
- Verbal abuse and manipulation
- Substance abuse
- Death
- Guns/shooting
- Improper BDSM
- Stalking and kidnapping
- Excessive vomiting
- HUGE plot holes that have not been fixed in this version.

~.~

I'm fucking exhausted.

My legs are sore from spinning around and around for hours on end. My arms ache from holding me up and passing out resumes all day. My butt twinges in pain from sitting on the small, angular seat-- so sore that I'm thinking a cock jammed up there would be less painful. My eyes are streaming from the blinding sun, because I left my sunglasses at home. My skin stings because of my stupidity this morning in forgetting to apply a decent amount of sunscreen. My tongue throbs because when I ordered a coffee earlier I rushed and sipped without blowing on it first.

My body wants to shrivel up on itself. I feel like death, warmed up in an erupting volcano.

I shut my eyes to block out the sunlight as I ride down the busy road. Cars slam their breaks on around me, and over the constant chatter of those on the sidewalk, car horns blare.

I pay it all no mind, my legs continuing to spin in a repetitive circle. I know this street – I know the traffic lights are up ahead, rotating through the colours. My eyes were open only a minute ago, when they flashed scarlet, and now it will be green. I know this because I ride down this street every day. I know.

The loud noises around me fade to an incessant buzz as I peek an eye open, checking the distance to the traffic lights. I immediately close my eyelids when the blinding sun sears them. Mentally cursing and momentarily losing balance, I grip the handles tighter, pushing harder. My calves burn and I can only imagine the pain I'll be in tomorrow. Pain that will make leaving the bed, let alone the apartment, impossible.

You can't afford to stay home all day--

Something crashes into me, sending me and my bike toppling. Unable to jerk myself away from the bike, I hit the cement first. Pain rockets up my arm and I hiss, cuss words exploding in my mind and I'm sure past my lips, too. But I can't hear anything past the rushing blood in my ears.

I attempt to push myself up onto my elbow. The pain is bearable, and for that I silently say a prayer of thanks. Nothing broken, then.

Glancing down at my bike, which has me successfully pinned, tells me I won't be going anywhere until the car rolls away. Laying back down, I stifle a groan as the sun burns hot against my face and small waves of pain rock through my arm and into the rest of my body. At this rate I'll burn to a crisp beneath the blinding glare, but that might be a better way to go.

I scowl at the car accusingly as I reach to fiddle with my bike chain around my ankle, wondering if I can drag it out myself. Fucking asshole, not looking where they were going. Suppressing a shout of anger, I push myself up again, trying to get a good look at the car, at the driver.

Except, it's not necessarily a car. Or, it is, but not a normal one. It's long, and the black paint glimmers under the suns endless shine. The number plate is an array of smartly arranged number and letters, 'AS5H0LE.' My lips twitch into a smirk despite my desperation to keep my frustration simmering. The driver's door pops open and my smirk drops as a man, dressed from head to toe in beige, a beige suit to be exact, with untidy, bleached hair, quickly rushes around to me. His face is drawn in horror as he reaches me, dropping to his knees.