Chapter 2 THE BIRTH OF PAIN

Chapter 2: The Birth of Pain Desmond eyes is a bloodshot red from all the alcohol he has been consuming. "Bring more!" He screams at the waiter a silly smile hanging on his lips.

The waiter hurries away to get the requested, he isn't really to lose his job even when he knows the man is already wasted.

"How I love fun" he would shatter unnecessary words and laugh stupidly to his dry jokes. "Sir, I think you've had enough," His bodyguard who have been watching him drown himself in alcohol finally summons all his courage to admonish him even if it means losing his job.

He is no longer able to watch Desmond's downward spiral. Desmond's response is swift and venomous.

"How dare you? How dare you admonish me? Do you want to lose your job?" he slurs, his breath reeking of liquor as he spits in his bodyguard's face.

The young man remains adamant, unwavering in his stance, no longer concerned about losing his job. He's never seen his boss this drunk and wasted before, and his concern for Desmond's well-being grows.

"I am going to sack you, Joseph," Desmond slurs, his words sounding like a forced lullaby, the effects of the 10 bottles of harsh alcohol he's consumed clearly taking their toll.

"I... will sack... you," Desmond continues, his blazing red eyes fixed on his bodyguard, his voice laced with venom. But then, suddenly, his tone shifts, and he stammers, "I feel so useless, Joseph. I feel insanely useless. Why is life this cruel?" His words hang in the air, a stark contrast to the anger that had been radiating from him just moments before.

Joseph, taken aback by this unexpected outburst, watches closely, wondering if his boss is truly opening up to him. "I am sad, my dad is frustrating and pressurizing me. Nothing I do is ever good enough for him. He wants to disown me and doesn't want to give me what rightly belongs to me," Desmond continues, his face a picture of sober despair.

Joseph listens kindly, seeing the honesty in his boss's words, and notices the pain in his eyes as he speaks. But before Desmond can finish his sentence, he falls into a deep sleep, overcome with emotion.

Joseph gently picks his boss up from the table and leads him to the most expensive room in the popular bar, a private room reserved for him by the hotel manager.

The luxurious black jeep pulls up in front of the massive bar, and Eric smiles, his brown eyes sparkling with excitement as he gazes at the ladies.

Mira bounds out of the car, eager to start the night's adventures. Eric, her boyfriend, joins her, his face radiating enthusiasm. However, Tasha lingers in the car, seemingly hesitant to venture into the bar. "What's wrong, Tasha?" Mira asks, noticing her friend's reluctance to exit the vehicle.

"Emm... Uhm..." Tasha hesitates, but Mira cuts her off. "No Emm and Uhm, Tasha. Remember, we already concluded this conversation at home. You can't be having second thoughts now." Mira whispers into her ear, "Remember, you need this money for your mother's treatment."

Tasha knows Mira is right, and with a deep breath, she builds up her courage and steps out of the car after a final gasp.

"I can do this," she admonishes herself as she takes her first step out of the car. She trails behind Mira and her boyfriend as they walk into the bar.

"Hey, pretty lady," a man says, taking bold steps towards her. Mira notices and winks at her to stop and hear what the man has to say, but Tasha plays dumb.

She doesn't fancy the rough-looking man; although she's here for a one-night stand, she still knows the kind of man she wants. "Sorry, not interested," she says before the man can come any closer.

Without waiting for the disappointed man to utter another word, she quickens her pace into the bar. As she steps into the bar, the glamorous interior envelops her.

The dim lights hanging in each corner add to the exotic ambiance, giving the space an enticing, rich look. The smell of cigarettes wafts through the air, a constant reminder of the indulgent atmosphere, while the scent of strong liquor lingers, a persistent degree of sin.

Tasha settles into a corner, her mind flooded with conflicting thoughts. She tries to prepare herself for what's about to happen, but her eyes droop as the reality hits her – she's about to lose her virginity to someone who doesn't truly matter to her.

She had always envisioned giving it to a man she would spend her life with, but here she is, in a dimly lit bar, ready to sell it off to a stranger willing to pay a hefty sum. "A bottle of whiskey, please," she mutters to a nearby waiter, who nods and walks off to bring her order.

She's never had whiskey in her life, but from Mira's review, it seems to help with drunkenness, and that's exactly what she wants – a distraction. She can't imagine going through with this without some sort of numbing agent, so she's willing to try anything to blur her senses.

After having numerous cups her face is flushed with the blurring vision of alcohol she's just consumed. Her eyes are red, like a raging fire, and her lips are parted in a despicable grin.

Her hands wildly rampage across the walls, seeking solid ground and using it as a guiding light to stumble towards the toilet. Her bladder presses down even harder, urgently alerting her to the impending release of urine, which will spill in no second if she doesn't find a place to discard it.

She staggers into a nearby door, unaware of where she's heading, her main concern being to discard the urine that's pressing her bladder non-stop.

She's still blinded by the effects of the alcohol she's consumed, making it impossible for her to ascertain the right door to the toilet.

She emerges from the bathroom, satisfied that she's eased herself from the tension that had been building up inside her just minutes ago.

She lets out a contented sigh and bounces onto the bed, a few inches away from the bathroom door. Enveloped by the warm embrace of the gigantic bed, she dives off to sleep, unaware of what awaits her in the room.

A pushy hand dives into her short gown, the last thing she feels before she's lost in her dream world. The hands rampage deeper into her gown, tearing it apart in split seconds. In a few minutes, Tasha is left stark naked.

"Awesome body," a muscular voice cools with a hint of sarcasm in his resonant voice. He takes a good look at the sexy body staring right back at him from the bed.

Unable to wait to devour the goodies, he zips down his denim jeans, his little man already standing alert at the beauty in front of them.

With a half-pulled boxer, he pats Tasha's legs open and slides into her Jericho unannounced. Tasha felt uncomfortable in her sleep, feeling the impact of the forced affection, but her eyes were too blinded by sleep to ascertain what was befalling her.

She would twist and turn in disconfirmation, and her face would itch in a painful scowl even in her sleep. The man pulls out of her after having enough of her, and he falls on the bed, weakly diving off to sleep exhausted.

The morning sun flashes through his face, causing him to flicker his eyes in an attempt to adjust to the bright light. Seeing he can't control the piercing sun, he turns his face to the other side of the bed, where his eyes meet the most shocking thing.

On his bed lies a naked woman who sleeps peacefully, like she's in her comfort zone. His eyes dive to the blood covering a quarter of the bed, and his eyes widen even more. "What the......" He couldn't complete his statement when the previous night's incident flooded into his brain.

"Oh no! Damn!" He curses, remembering how he ripped the lady's clothes off and slipped into her jericho with no consent. "How could I be so drunk?" he asks, questioning his morality.

The lady, whom he once saw as a slut desperate for s*x, is now the one he feels great pity for. He feels he has taken something very important from her by taking her virginity.

"How could I be so stupid?" he curses, casting a blow on the innocent walls. "I have to take care of my mess and get the hell out of here before she wakes up and sees me. I can't let my image be ruined," he shutters, knowing the implications of his actions.

Without further delay, he pulls out a checkbook from his briefcase and quickly writes a check for the young lady. "This will fix this mess," he states. Placing his book back into his bag and arranging himself, he walks out of the room, leaving the lady to herself.