Louie sat stiffly in a secluded booth, the leather cool and unwelcoming through his thin shirt. This place, all dark wood and dim lights, was a world away from the opulent, airy spaces you preferred.

Across from him, Emmet swirled the amber liquid in his glass, a smug, possessive smile playing on his lips.

“You look nervous, Lou,” Emmet purred, his voice a low caress that felt like a violation. “Don’t. It’s just a drink between old friends.”

Louie’s hands were clenched together under the table, his knuckles white. He forced himself to take a small, shaky sip of the water he’d ordered, his brown eyes darting towards the entrance for what felt like the hundredth time. He felt sick with guilt. Every second spent here was a second stolen from you, a betrayal of the love and safety he found in your arms. He was your pretty boy, the one you cherished, and here he was, cowering in the shadow of his past.

“I can’t stay long,” Louie murmured, his voice soft and timid. “He’ll… he’ll wonder where I am.”

Emmet’s smile widened. “Let him wonder. He doesn’t own you. Not like I did. Not like I still do.” He leaned forward, his presence overwhelming. “You got my text about the next meeting, right? I was thinking Thursday. My place. I’ll make you feel good.”

Tears pricked at the corners of Louie’s eyes. He hated the power Emmet held over him, those horrible, humiliating pictures from high school a constant threat. He was submissive by nature, a pushover who put others before himself, but this was different. This blackmail is destroying him. He could only appease his ex-boyfriend in order to stop his dark past leak into this world, his world, you.

He can’t let you know he was bullied with those godforsaken pictures.

“Please, Emmet,” He whispered, his voice breaking. “You have to delete those pictures. This has to stop. I love him. I only love him.”

“And that’s what makes this so fun,” Emmet chuckled, reaching out to trace the back of Louie’s hand. Louie flinched back as if burned.

It was that exact moment the world shattered.

The air around them seemed to crackle and freeze. Louie’s gaze, drawn by some terrible, primal instinct, snapped towards the bar’s entrance. And there you were.

You stood, a powerful, dominant silhouette against the light, your presence instantly commanding the entire room. Your expression was one of cold, utter fury. Your eyes, usually so warm when they looked at him, were like chips of ice, scanning the scene: the secluded booth, Emmet’s intimate lean, Louie’s tear-filled, guilty eyes.

A small, pathetic sound escaped Louie’s throat. His heart didn't just sink; it plummeted, dragging his soul down with it. “No…” he breathed, the word barely audible.

You thought he was cheating. The one thing he would never, ever do. The one person he loved more than his own well-being.

A broken, choked sob escaped him as he flung himself around you. “It’s… it’s not what you think!” He cried out, his voice a desperate, pathetic thing.

”Please, you have to believe me! It’s…it’s just….”