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🎻🎻🎻

My car screeched to a stop outside of Nico's trailer. I immediately put it in park, snatching my keys from the ignition and stumbling out the car like a drunk.

I was out of my mind. The drive here wasn't too kind either, but this was the only place I knew I was welcomed.

"Corbyn?" I lifted my head to find Nico out by his front step, smoking with none other than Jett. Of course. Just what I needed.

I strode out of the shadows of the evening as he put out his cigarette and approached me. "Oh my god... what happened to you?" It was the most emotional I'd ever heard his voice, and from the look on his face he was afraid for me.

"Who hurt you? He's bleeding-help me get him inside! Quick!" Jett's alarmed voice seeped through, and soon they were both rushing me indoors. For the third or fourth time tonight, I was in another world as they swarmed me, sitting me down and cleaning the blood that was on my hands.

It was only when Nico tried to remove my sweatshirt to check for the source of bleeding that I came back to myself. "It's not mine," I said, barely above a whisper.

"What're you talking about? There's blood all over your sweater!"

"Did someone do this to you?" Jett queried, running a warm towel across the side of my head, carefully cleaning the spots of blood that had managed to sleep on my skin. "Give me a name and I swear, I'll gut them."

"You and me both," Nico supported.

"No one hurt me," I hissed, squeezing my eyes shut. I wasn't accustomed to people fretting over me or my safety, so the discomfort of it made me push Jett's hands away. "Stop it!" I cried, feeling my face flush and my chest heave. "It's not mine!"

Silence.

Finally, the meaning of that statement clicked for them. If it wasn't my blood, it was someone else's. And if no one hurt me, then I did the hurting.

Nico's face grew blank as he looked to Jett for assistance. The gruff man slowly knelt down so he could stare right into my eyes. For the first time, I got a very good look at him. To see a father so concerned for me was an unfamiliar sight; I'd never forget it.

"How bad did you hurt 'em?" His tone was prudent and hesitant. Still, we didn't break eye contact.

"When I left... he was struggling to breathe."

I heard Nico curse under his breath, but he stayed quiet after that.

"Alright." Jett searched my face, but I was sure he was just trying to find some sort of solution. "Alright, well, that doesn't matter now. We need to make sure they can't find you. Starting with your car; it's a dead giveaway-"

"No," I refused. "I'm not hiding from this."

"Corbyn, whoever you hurt could be dead. I want to protect you!"

"There was once a time I needed protecting. It's much too late for that now."

He grunted in disagreement. "If the police find you... if he's dead and you're found guilty-Corbyn, you'd land yourself in jail. You don't want to be there."

Nico's hand grasped mine. Somehow, my entire body knew I needed that because I relaxed with a sigh. "I can't deal with this right now. Please, just... I'll just stay the night and figure it out in the morning."

"If they don't find you by then, you mean," Nico reminded.

"So be it," I accepted. I looked back at Jett, my eyebrows furrowing. "Thanks, but... I'd like to be alone with Nico."

I could see the protest bubbling in his throat, but his swallow forced it right back down. "Fine. If you two need anything, you know where to find me." He nodded before lifting himself from the ground. For a moment, we stared at each other. It seemed he was trying to communicate something to me, but he failed, so he just gave us the privacy I'd requested.

Nico went to lock the door then turned to me. "I need to know everything," he said desperately, returning to my side.

"You'll see me as a monster."

"Just my type." His efforts to make me laugh never failed. He helped me stand up and we walked to his bed. "You lied when you said nobody hurt you, Corbyn. Someone had to have caused you pain if it made you snap. Who was it?"

I leaned back into his pillows, but he sat upright and faced me. I knew I could trust him. I mean, Nico was almost as fucked up as I was. But if I was going to tell him, I had to share everything.

I wasn't prepared for that. I'd never said it out loud to anyone so I didn't know how bad sharing the details would break me.

But he was the first person I came to. I was under his roof so he deserved to know. "It was my dad."

"The mayor? How did he hurt you?"

Yup, I knew I wasn't prepared for this. "He's given me a lot more wounds than I gave him, trust me." I sat up just enough to pull off my light purple sweatshirt, revealing the gradually fading bruises near my ribs, lower abdomen, and a couple on my back.

Nico's face morphed into an expression of confusion as he stared, like he was trying to understand why. "No, I..." he reached out to trace my skin then his shoulders sagged helplessly. "How could he?"

I shook my head. "Please, Nico, I can't talk about it. Honestly, I just wanna forget."

He snapped his hazel eyes to mine in a stony gaze and pulled me forward by my waist. I was met by his lips as he kissed me earnestly. It almost felt like he was attempting to make up for my pain as if he was the one who caused it.

"I am..." he began in between kisses, "so sorry." I wrapped my arms around his neck while he pecked from my cheek down to my jaw. "Please tell me, whatever you did to him, did you make it agonizing?"

"I stabbed him a few times. He has asthma, you know," I informed. "I'm sure he was in tears."

"Good. Feels better knowing he deserved it. Still, I hope he's alive, but only because I don't want you tried for a murder." He lifted my chin to give me yet another little kiss. I smiled, accepting his shower of affection and wanting much, much more. "I'm gonna put up a fight if they try to take you away from me."

I chuckled. "As brave as that is, don't. I can face the consequences."

"You shouldn't have to, Corbyn." He pulled me onto his lap so that I was straddling him. "He beat you and got away with it. How long has this been going on anyway?"

I shrugged. "Physically? Since I was six. According to all my nannies, he barely even spared me a glance as a baby. Mom was far too depressed."

"It's okay. I don't want you to relive it. You're not a monster; he is. And he sits there in his office, running the town, smiling in front of cameras, donating to charities and organizations... it's all an act."

"At least I know where I got my skills from. I'm the best actor at school, pretending like I'm better than everyone when behind closed doors, I'd give anything to be like those other kids. The ones with loving parents, the ones whose biggest worry in life is if they'll pass the next Chemistry test."

"I used to wonder why you pushed everyone around. It makes sense now. Too much sense. I wish it wasn't the case."

I sighed, wanting to change the subject. "I believe I owe you a smoothie."

He smile was wide and devious. "I believe you do." I was grateful that he understood me enough to play along. "But I don't have any fruit here. Just the leftovers you gave me."

"I'll warm something up for us." I picked up my sweatshirt and tossed it into one of his waste baskets. "Burn it for me if you can."

"Or I can just wash it and sell it." He smirked. "Can you imagine how much I'd make selling the Corbyn Starr's sweatshirt?"

I would've laughed at that, but suddenly my full name made me very uncomfortable. No, it always did, but especially now more than ever. I wasn't a Starr. I was a Michaels, but he couldn't know that.

I gave his cheek a smooch before lifting myself from the bed. As I warmed up some food for us, Nico seized the opportunity to light a cigarette. I watched him open a couple windows, raising my eyebrows.

"Sorry for ruining your little smoke session earlier," I apologized, but he could sense my sarcasm. "You and Jett must be very close, I can tell."

"We are. He's like my second dad. The first being Lucifer, of course."

I looked down at the second plate in my hand as I stuck it in the microwave. "Does he um... does he have kids?" I supposed it might be nice to have other siblings that I may never get to meet.

Nico laughed a bit, falling back onto his bed as he puffed out smoke. "He only ever told me about one, but... who knows how many women the guy's been with? There could be a ton more."

"What'd he tell you?" My forehead creased as I furrowed my eyebrows.

"I don't know. That he never met his son, wished he could. Something like that. It was months ago and he hasn't mentioned him since."

I nodded. "Oh." That was all I was able to get out. Wished he could meet his son?

Jett always knew who I was to him, and he'd wanted to meet me? I didn't understand it. If he knew the mayor and my mother were married, how was he so sure that I was even his? Of course, I had to learn that Mr. Starr wasn't my father the hard way.

Still, if he raped my mother, I doubted he cared to ever meet me at all.

"Anyway, he's not the best guy in the world. He's definitely made a fair share of mistakes, but he's always been there for me. Always. This tiny trailer belongs to him, but he got another one nearby just so I'd have this to myself since it's so small. He pays for everything."

I removed the last plate and grabbed the other, walking back to his bed to hand him one. I wanted to ask Nico why he wasn't staying with family. He was about 17 and still a minor. Even if his parents were 'gone' as he'd told me, weren't there other people to care for him?

I didn't ask. So, we just ate our food and found something else to talk about.

"You know, I'm thinking about a haircut," he said. I laughed a bit.

"Oh really? I don't buy it for a second; you're too attached to the devils on your head."

"I've had these dreads for a year. If I'm acting in the play, I want them out. I doubt my role of the prince has dreads this sick anyway."

"Yeah, that would be a bit odd," I agreed with another laugh.

"Besides, now that I have you, I want you to be able to run your fingers through this lush hair with ease."

I blushed. "I look forward to that even though your dreads look great on you."

He set his plate on his nightstand, tossing me a bottle of water. I twisted open the cap and downed half of it. "I do have you though... right?"

I set my plate beside his and smiled at him. "Do you even have to ask, Nico?"

He shrugged, lifting a leg to his chest so he could rest an elbow on his knee. He toyed with the cigarette between his index and middle finger. "I just wanna call you mine, that's all. Not saying that I care what those shitstains at school think, but it'd be nice to be around you outside of the theater room. It'll always be our place to escape, of course, so if you don't wanna be seen with 'the likes of me,' it's cool."

"Why wouldn't I wanna be seen with my own boyfriend?"

His beautiful eyes met mine just as his lips lifted into a smile. "Boyfriend," he repeated, nodding in approval. "That's a nice title."

"Yeah, it is." My voice was low and quiet as I studied his face. I chewed on my lip for a moment before an overwhelming desire for him nudged me closer. His hand settled against my lower back and I sank helplessly into him.

Just as he'd done to me earlier, I planted small, sweet kisses along his cheek, jaw, and neck. His skin was enticing, beckoning my fingers to explore it. Suddenly, I was reminded of my little insecurity, and I pulled away too quickly.

"I-I always avoided sex until my bruises healed," I blurted out.

His eyebrows flew up, and I could hear amusement in his voice as he spoke. "Oh, is that what we're doing?"

I playfully pushed at his chest, making him laugh.

"I honestly thought about waiting," he confessed. "I've been thinking about it for a while, asking myself how I could make it special or some shit but I can't. I mean look at this place; it's never gonna be good enough for you."

I shook my head. "Nico, I don't need rose petals and candles. I mean, it'd be sweet if it were my first time but..." I shrugged one shoulder. "We're big boys; we can handle it."

He touched his hand to my chest.

"I'm sorry about your wounds. The physical and emotional ones. I have them too, trust me."

"I know you do," I softly understood, stroking his cheek with my thumb. "Hey, at least we have each other."

"Yeah. There's that."

I grinned, taking his cigarette from him. He probably expected me to blot it out, but I put it between my lips, taking him by surprise.

"Okay, I don't have regard for my lungs but I do care about yours," he said, pulling it out my mouth. I exhaled the smoke from my nose and smirked.

"Glad I haven't lost my mojo. Thought I'd be a coughing mess; can you imagine the humiliation?"

"You've smoked before?"

I rolled my eyes as if it were common knowledge, then I smiled. "Quite a few times. I stopped about as quickly as I started though. I'm a singer; I knew it wouldn't be good for me."

He put the cigarette out completely then left it in the ashtray.

"Here," I said, tugging his shirt up so I could remove it. I leaned forward to kiss his chest, tracing my fingers over two of his tattoos. He pulled my pants down slowly as I shimmied out of them. I dug my fingers into the band of his jeans and pulled them down as well.

"I want you to make it hurt."

He winked at me. "Oh I will." Our lips locked once again, but with the knowledge of what was about to happen, it was much more fervent and heated. He lied down, pulling me on top of him as our tongues collided passionately. A tide of warmth swarmed me as he held me to his chest, enveloping me in his arms. Soon enough, my hungry lips found their way south of his body.

I pulled his underwear to the side, exposing his soft penis. I rubbed it with my palm before grabbing it. He was the perfect size; thick in girth, a surplus of skin, and a generously large pair of balls. All I could think was that I desperately wanted that inside of me.

But first...

I leaned down and wrapped my mouth around him, moving my head up and down the fleshy shaft, fondling his swelling sack as I did so.

"Ah, that feels good," he whispered as his breath picked up steadily.

"Mm, what's this?" My fingers came in contact with a ring nestled behind his balls and I gasped. "No way!"

"It's a guiche."

"You got a piercing?" My eyes narrowed. "Did you cry like a little bitch?"

"No." He smiled proudly and I rolled my eyes.

"You disappoint me."

"Mm, then I'll make up for it tonight." I let him drag me back up, and felt his hands running down my back. He pulled apart from me, a frustrated expression on his face. "I wish I could do something. I can feel your bruises, and I don't know how to... pretend they're not there."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Why are you apologizing?"

I shrugged one shoulder again. "I promise they'll fade away. And you won't even know they're there. If it makes you feel any better... Mr. Starr is going to have a hell of a tough recovery if he makes it to the hospital."

"He could also be dead..."

"He could be. That's on me, Nico. Now please can we not think about him right now? Just help me forget tonight and we can head back to reality in the morning." I planted a few kisses along his neck. "Please?"

"Okay but why would he hit you? What did you ever do to him?"

He was getting riled up, as much as he was trying to get into the mood for sex. So, I stopped and sighed, lying down next to him. It was going to stay on his mind and if I wanted him to just relax, I might as well tell him.

It was a bit nerve wracking.

"Nobody else knows."

"I don't have friends to tell anyway, and I care about you. I wouldn't share your secret. Can I trust you not to tell mine?"

I nodded then raised my eyebrows at him. "Wait, are you planning to tell me yours?"

"We'll see."

I silently hoped that he would. I imagined being the only one who knew his secrets, and somehow that made me feel special. Now I just had to decide how to share mine.

How did I begin? "Your good friend, Jett... "

Nico stared at me, trying to figure out how Jett could possibly be connected to me.

"What about him? Is it true?"

"Is what true? What do you know?" My eyes grew a bit wide.

"I don't know anything, at least not for sure. But... it's weird; you sort of look like the guy; there's no denying that."

I heavily sighed, shaking my head. "Wow. I only met the man last week and I still managed to look like him."

"Corbyn... is Jett your real dad?"

I bit my lip, not wanting to admit that to him. But it seemed he figured it out, so at least that was out of the way. I sighed, laying my head on his chest. "Yeah, he is."

"Jesus Christ... Mr. Starr does this because you aren't his son. That's cruel. That's... cruel."

"Mom says she was raped."

Nico grunted in doubt. "Jett wouldn't."

"I want to believe that, but I can't forget the way she always looked at me. Like I haunted her. It's because I look like her offender. Why would she be afraid if she wasn't raped, Nico?"

"Maybe she was raped, but not by Jett."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "That's impossible, what are you getting at?"

"Well, if Mr. Starr is the man he is, I doubt he loves his wife as much as he ever claimed to. If he could treat you so awfully, how could he love anyone else?"

"That doesn't explain why my mom is scared of me."

"Maybe it wasn't fear."

I shook my head, lifting it to look at Nico in confusion. "You're supposed to be fucking my asshole not my brain."

He couldn't help but smile at that before growing serious again. "Think about it, Corbyn. Just... think. Try to remember what was in her eyes when she looked at you."

"I don't want to think about her or Jett or my pretend-father right now. They're all we've been talking about this entire night."

He nodded in understanding. "I'm sorry."

"I'm in pain, believe me. I've agonized in silence for years, and I intend to share it all with you. Just not tonight."

It was clear he couldn't let it go, but he knew he'd have to. He was practically swallowing down his emotions, trying to fight the urge to solve all of my problems. Nico caressed my skin, and once he managed to hold back his frustrations, a smile played at his lips. "Much as you blame yourself, you can't be blamed for the way that you feel..." he softly sang. I knew instantly what song it was, and I smiled too as I touched his bottom lip with the tip of my finger.

"Had no example of a love that was even remotely real," I sang along, but much quieter.

"How can you understand something that you've never had... if you let me, I can help you out with all of that."

"I don't think I've ever heard you sing, Nico," I said, giggling. "I like it."

"If you say I'm good, then I must be." He pecked my forehead. "That song is perfect for us."

I was gleaming with pride. We had a song.

"I really need you," I admitted. Still lying down, I slid on top of him and straddled his hips. "Still in the mood?"

"I was never out of it," he whispered, reaching down to grab hold of his length while his hand pressed my body to his broad chest. He messaged my hole with his shaft while pouring lube over it. "So much better than homecoming." He kissed my lips a few times before I felt him slowly glide inside of me.

We couldn't help but moan at the sensation it gave us. I hadn't felt this kind of pleasure in a while, and it was very nice to taste it again for at least one night before I had to face the consequences of my heinous actions tomorrow morning.

🎗🎗🎗🎗🎗

https://youtu.be/1IbRcu4YKuw

(Song that Nico sang):

Let Me Love You -Glee Version

Y'all know I love glee 😩♥️

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