Chapter Ten – Truth Or Dare

You almost rip off your dress, eager to get in the shower, and wash the red wine off you. It is on your hair as well. Fuck. Stupid fucking drunk guy. And stupid fucking Brock. If this is what it takes to get a discount, you’ll gladly pay full price. Ask Jack to give you some money. “What the fuck are you doing with my wife?!” It made you feel warm in your chest. And then he ruined it all with that discount shit. Maybe you should stay in your room tonight. Empty your own minibar. Arrg.. Screw it, YN. He is company. And, maybe it could be fun. Some of his jokes are funny.

You put on your PJs. No need to look fancy. He doesn’t want you anyway. Probably no need for make up either. But you put on some mascara anyway. You don’t have to look like a train wreck. You take a look at yourself in the mirror. This’ll do. If he was serious about emptying the minibar, you’ll probably be drunk by the end of the night anyway.

– Keep it cool and casual, YN!

You say to yourself in the mirror, before you exit your room, walk across the hall, and knock on his door.

He opens it almost immediately.

– YN. Welcome. What do you want to drink?

You walk into his room.

– Err.. Anything that isn’t red wine..

He walks over to the minibar.

– Hmm.. Then how about a bottle of that beer?

He takes out two bottles, opens them and hands you one. You take it, and take a sip.

– Nice..

– So? What do you want to do?

He casually sits down on his bed, leans against the headboard.

– Drinking sounds fair…

– How about, we play a game?

A game? Oh, Lord.

– What kind of game?

He smirks at you. Oh, fuck. This night is so not gonna end well.

– How about Truth or Dare?

You laugh. Roll your eyes at him.

– Truth or Dare? What are you, like twelve?

He puts his bottle down on the nightstand. Puts his hands behind his head.

– Oh, come on, YN. It’s just to get to know each other a little better!

You sit down on the edge of his bed. Take another sip of your beer.

– And Truth or Dare is the way to do that? How will a Dare make me know you better?

– I guess that depends on the Dare?

Another smirk. Fine! You’ll play. It’s been a long time since you did any kind of Truth or Dare. And you have a feeling that this will be a little different than the Truth or Dare you’re used to.

– You start!

He’s challenging you. You shake your head.

– Trut….

– Oh, and one more thing…

He cuts you off.

– If you for some reason don’t want to do the Dare or answer the question, you can change.

Oh for fucks sake. This does not sound promising.

– And if I don’t want to do any of it.

He lifts his bottle from the nightstand.

– Then bottoms up!

He empties his bottle in one chunk. You look at him for a while.

– Fine! I’m game! Truth or Dare?

– Dare!

Wow, he just jumps right into it. What can you dare him to do? You really didn’t think this trough.

– Err… I dare you to…..

He looks at you. Challenging you. Does he have some kind of plan with this game. Seriously, strip poker would be better than this. You have no idea what Dare you can give him.

– ….. Take off your shirt!

Now it’s his turn to laugh. He drags his shirt over his head. Fuck those abs, that slightly darker skin. It should be illegal to look this good.

– Now, who’s twelve? Truth or Dare?

– Dare!

You don’t know why. But you have a feeling that if you say truth, he’ll ask you about your dream. And you really don’t want to answer that.

– Kiss me!

The Dare comes almost spontaneously. You freeze, you can’t say anything. You just look at him.

– What?

– I dare you to kiss me!

– OK Truth!

He smirks at you. Fuck. You should just chunk your whole beer right away.

– What was your dream about?

You look at him, narrowing your eyes.

– Cheers!

You say, smirking, before chunking your beer.

He gets up from the bed, taking two more beers from the minibar. You take the one he’s handing to you.

– Truth or Dare, Brock!

Again he leans back against the headbord.

– Truth!

It’s like the devil comes over you. If he want’s to play this game you’ll show him how it’s done. From now on you’ll be asking every single question he could possibly ask you, first. Forcing him to answer.

– Do you know what my dream was about?

He laughs. Then he sends you another smirk.

– Well, wouldn’t you like to know?

– You picked truth, Brock. You have to answer.

– Bottoms up, YN!

He says, before emptying yet another bottle. Man if you’re gonna keep this up, you’ll be dead ass drunk before 9pm. And why didn’t he answer? Does he know? You can never know with him. It could be because he actually knows, and want’s you to fess up. But it could also be to mess with you, in the hopes that you’ll eventually tell, because you think he already knows. Either way it’ll be hella embarrassing.

– Really, Brock? This is how we’re gonna play?

– Truth or Dare, YN!

– Give it a rest, Brock! Are you trying to get me drunk?

– Truth or Dare?

– Fine! Truth.

– Why do you hate me so much?

Wow! You didn’t exactly expect THAT question. You don’t know what to say. And that in itself makes you mad.

– You’re annoying me. OK?

His face falls. No more smirks. He just looks at you.

– Why?

You stand up. Those three beers from downstairs plus that one you just chunked, have made you tipsy.

– Because you’re breathing!

– What have I done, YN? You used to be fun to be around. What happened?

– YOU! You happened, Brock!

You almost yell at him. And you don’t know why. It could be because of the beers but usually you can handle More than four beers.

He gets up as well, comes over to you. You turn away from him. Seriously, YN. Are you gonna start to cry now? He puts a hand on your shoulder.

– Did.. Did I do something wrong, YN?

You turn around to face him.

– What’s the point of telling you, Brock? You obviously don’t even remember.

– Remember what, YN?

You look at him for a while. Trying your best to hold your tears back. This was so not how you planned this night to go.

– Exactly!

– Hey! Give me a break here!

– A break? A break, Brock? Fuck you!

You try to leave. But he stops you.

– Did I do something wrong, YN?

– Youweremyfirst

You mutter under your breath.

– What?

– Youweremyfirst

Again you almost whisper.

– YN! You need to speak up. I can’t hear you.

Arrg.. Fuck this. Fuck everything!

– You were my first, alright??!!

You almost yell at him.

He just stands there, looking at you. Shocked. Not saying a word.

– And you still don’t remember. You don’t even care!

With that you turn and leave. You try to slam the door shut behind you. But he stops it. Following you out in the hall.

– Hey, YN! Wait up!

You continue to walk, those two or three steps across the hall to your door.

– YN! Listen to me!

– Piss off, Brock!

He grabs you, turns you around. Looks at you. You’re crying, and you want to get away from him. To cry in peace. You want to forget you ever met him.

– You think I don’t care?

– Well, you don’t!

You try to sound confident but your previous anger, has now turned into tears.

– I remember, YN! I remember!

– Well, if you do you certainly do not care!

– I didn’t know, YN!

You roll your eyes at him.

– Would it have made a difference if you did?

He falters.

– You just said….. You…. You just TOLD me that…. You JUST said that you….

– That I was a Virgin?

– Yes! That. I swear, YN. I. Didn’t. Know!

You don’t know what to say. So you just look at him. And he looks back. Lifting his hand up to your face, wipes one of your tears away.

– I remember, YN!

He says again, before slowly moving his face closer to yours. Stopping, to see your next move. You don’t make one. Then his lips meets yours. Soft, slow, careful. When he pulls back again. He takes your hand.

– Come on, YN! We have to talk about this. I can’t stand it when you hate me. Please?!