>Brad awoke the next morning unsure whether the events of the last night was a dream.
>It didn't seem real defiling Applebloom. Could his crimes really be swept under the rug, just like that?
>He sat up on the bed and stroked the blue flame on his head. It never wanted to stay straight.
>He grabbed his phone and got himself ready for school. He slung his guitar case over his shoulder and threw it in the back seat.
>He sped off to school, hoping that it wouldn't be a madhouse again.
>When he arrived at the front door, no one seemed to take any notice of him.
>He was a face in the crowd like he'd always been, but he didn't feel the spotlight burning him.
>The weight of his crimes slumped off his shoulders like imbalanced sandbags.
>He felt the shackles around his legs melt away, a convict freed for good behavior.
>But something could never be let off, something would always cling to him no matter how hard he tried to shake it off.
>His guilt. It itched in the back of his neck like a spider bite, reminding him of what he'd done, the lives he'd ruined for a few minutes of carnal pleasure.
>He couldn't deny to himself, however, the immense joy each encounter brought him.
>He knew what he was doing was immoral but the euphoria he felt was irresistible.
>His mind had started to rationalize his crimes, placing him in the right for situations where he would be wrong.
>His thoughts wandered as he walked down the hall to the orchestra room. He took his seat in the strings section, propping his bass against his shoulder.
>He twisted the tuning pegs to alter the vibration of the strings. The notes resonated through the interior of the instrument, its booming tones filling the orchestra room.
>His lamenting bassline was interrupted by the creaking and shuffling of the chair beside him.
>A slender girl nestled into the seat like a robin.
>An ebony curtain spilled down her shoulders, cloaking her smoky skin.
>Two mulberry rafts drifted in her ashen face. They floated above a thin red line and a grey pyramid.
>Her cello leaned against her body, replacing her tiny frame with the robust orange instrument.
>She twisted the pegs to bring her cello to tune. She started warming up, her deft fingers caressing the neck with virtuosic dexterity.
>Brad was fascinated by her music, but he was nothing if not a trickster.
>He pulled out a feather and held it menacingly close to her arm.
>Her eyes were shut as she drowned in a sea of music. She never saw the feather coming.
 
>She nearly dropped her cello from the sensations running through her arm.
>It felt like a snake bite. The venom coursed up to her shoulder and slammed against her brain.
>She clutched the neck of the instrument to save it. Her lips blew out like an old tire, releasing a huge laugh through the room.
>The eyes of the entire orchestra locked to her. No one ever laughed in orchestra practice (mostly because there was never anything to laugh about in the first place).
>The cold of the icy stares froze her. Her quivering eyes were the only signs of life.
>Once the crowd had turned their attention away, she turned slowly to the culprit.
>Even when her harsh eyes glared at him, narrower than an eyelash, Brad still couldn't stop chuckling to himself.
>His enthusiasm was met with a stinging slap on the arm.
"Ow!" he mocked, "What the hell was that for?"
>"You made me look like an idiot," she scowled, "Did you really have to tickle me?"
"I couldn't help it," he said, "Your skin called to me, 'Tickle me, Brad! Rub that feather on my arm!'."
>Norman bent over in a chuckling fit. Octavia rolled her eyes and repositioned her hand.
>"You better not act that way at the recital tonight," she frowned, "The conductor would have your ass for that."
"I hope he's gentle," Brad said.
>"I mean it, Brad," she said, poking him with her bow, "If you don't straighten up and act your age at the recital, we'll be the laughing stock of the district!"
"Alright, alright," Brad said, "I'll be good, I promise!"
>Brad flashed a mischievous smile. It was met with a much more diabolical face.
>"You better," she said, "Because if the conductor doesn't chew you out, I will."
>She turned to the conductor and put herself in playing position.
>Brad quickly did the same to avoid Octavia's fangs.
>His part wasn't particularly difficult, it mostly consisted of ostinatos.
>The rehearsal dragged on for a couple hours. The conductor congratulated the orchestra and wished them the best of luck at the rehearsal Saturday night.
>Brad jotted down the time in his phone and went off to class, Octavia glaring at him as he left the auditorium.
 
>Saturday evening was a chaotic time in Brad's house.
>Between finding him a tuxedo and making sure his performance would be up to snuff, Brad took around two hours to get himself prepared.
>He had spent more time getting ready for the recital than actually practicing for it.
>He prayed to a higher power that he would perform well, and double so that Octavia wouldn't beat his ass for screwing up.
>The ride to the performance took only ten minutes, but with the thoughts buzzing around his head like angry hornets in a shaken hive it had seemed instantaneous.
>His sedan pulled into one of the parking spots reserved for performers at the convention center.
>He took his double bass from the back seat and hauled it into the auditorium.
>The next few hours were a blur, an amalgamation of hundreds of still frames put together like a demented puzzle.
>The pieces they played droned in his ears. The dull thumping of the bass drums shook his head and the basses around him groaned like beached whales.
>Brad had hardly drawn the bow across the strings for the first time when the finale applause rang in his ears.
>The crowd stood in an ovation. They had to have been the most easily amused group of people Brad had ever seen.
>No one should ever applaud that much for the shitty pop songs they played, no matter how much the orchestra romanticized them.
>Brad packed up his bass and slung it over his shoulder.
>He was halfway to the exit when a voice froze him in mid-stance.
>"Hey Brad!"
>He turned to see that steely woman, whose eyes had stung him this morning, running towards him with her hand outstretched.
>"Brad, wait up!" She placed her hand on his shoulder and caught her breath.
"Octavia?" he said, "What's wrong?"
>"Nothing," she panted, "I wanted to ask if you wanted to come to the afterparty."
>Afterparty? They were actually celebrating the performance?
"Afterparty? What do you mean, 'afterparty'?"
>"We're having a party at Vinyl's house," she said, "It's going to be 'off the chain', as it were."
>Brad could never turn down such an invitation, no matter how awkwardly voiced.
 
"Sure, Tavi," he said, "I'll come with."
>"Great, can't wait to---Did you just call me 'Tavi'?"
"Um, yes?"
>"No one calls me that---except for Vinyl."
"I think it sounds pretty cute," Brad smiled, "It really rolls off the tongue."
>Octavia blushed. Romanticism was a drug to her, flirting words an addictive narcotic.
>"See you at the party, Brad," she whispered. Her hair whipped against his arm as she went out to the parking lot.
>Hypnotized by her swinging hips, Brad went out with her.
>He tailed her closely, admiring her undulating form all the way to his car.
>Octavia squeezed into her silver sedan, purple highlights streaking the grey paint.
>She flashed her headlights at him. Her hand flapped outside her window, beckoning him to follow her.
>The pair of cars pulled out of the lot like a presidential escort, two long sedans twisting down the road to their destination.
>Their wheels ground into the asphalt in front of Vinyl's house.
>Brad looked around to find cars snaking down the road, clogging the sides of the road like plaque on the city's arteries.
>The lights flickered through the windows, their colors cycling through the spectrum in time to the music.
>The four-on-the-floor shook the house. It shuddered and creaked with every groan of the LFO.
>It wasn't Brad's kind of music but damn if that bassline wasn't catchy.
>He looked ahead of him as he walked towards the front door and saw Octavia being let into the door.
>He chuckled when he saw the cotton balls stuffed in her ears.
>I guess she was more a fan of FEELING the music rather than listening to it.
>Within a few minutes the massive line had disappeared into the house and he stood at the doormat.
>The bouncer was a huge-ass linebacker. The giant had a goofy grin on his face when he saw the twig in front of him.
>"Brad! Man! Glad you could come!" His limbs constricted Brad in a great hug.
"Thanks, Jeff," Brad choked, "Can you let me go please?"
>"Oh," Jeff released his death grip, "Sorry about man. Have a nice time. And by the way, 4:1 Chick-to-Dick ratio. Fucking amazing!"
>Brad chuckled as he squeezed his way inside. His ears were immediately flooded with the sounds of hormonal outrage.
 
>Thunderous rave music pounded his ear drums. Brad cupped his hands over his ear in fear that they would implode.
>Bright strobes danced in his eyes like flashes of lightning, followed by the thunder of the bass.
>The partygoers thrashed in the living room, neon bracelets swirling and bouncing on the wrists of the dancers.
>Whatever they were doing, it certainly wasn't 'dancing'.
>Brad enjoyed a good party, but something about this one didn't feel right.
>It was more energetic and bright than the sun. His senses were bombarded by millions of bits of information, each one fighting for his attention.
>He clutched his head and stole away into the kitchen.
>It wasn't quiet by any means but it had far less going on than the rest of the downstairs.
>Pairs of teens leaned against the counters and gossipped, drinking their beverages out of plastic red cups.
>Brad couldn't be sure whether the contents of their cups were alcoholic, but their loopiness and glazed eyes seemed to let him on.
>He walked over to the fridge to get himself a Coke. He closed the fridge and looked into the living room.
>He noticed a familiar face at the opposite wall, hidden behind a turntable.
>Her porcelain body was clouded by a haze of alcohol and smoke but she stuck out like a bad memory.
>He wondered if she recognized him under those magenta lens. He wondered if she remembered that night and what he'd done to her.
>"She sure looks happy up there, doesn't she?" A woman said beside him. Brad turned to see the ashen woman with ebony hair standing beside him.
"Well," Brad said, "It is her kind of environment. She lives for this, right?"
>"I suppose so," she sighed, "Hey Brad, let's say we have a drink somewhere quieter."
"Why? You don't want to party?"
>Octavia looked down at her feet and scuffed the tiles.
>"I just wanted to talk about the concert," she said, "Want to sit with me over in the dining room? No one ever goes in there."
"I'd be glad to," Brad said, opening the glass bottle in his hand, "Lead the way."
>Octavia grabbed her own drink out of the fridge and led Brad to the dining room.
 
>They sat at the large wooden table and placed two chairs beside each other.
>They placed their drinks down, two glass towers towering above the cluttered table.
>Brad's cola fizzled. Bubbles gathered on the side of the bottle, contrasting the condensation of the frosty glass.
>The pair talked about the school year and their futures. It was a light bonding exercise; they weren't very compatible.
>The conversation soon shifted towards the elephant in the room.
"So," Brad started, "How's Vinyl?"
>Octavia shrugged. She turned her sullen face from him.
>"She's alright," she sighed, "Could be a lot better."
"What do you mean?"
>"I don't know. She just seemed off after that concert she held."
"Sorry to hear that," Brad said, "I hope she gets better. She's a real good woman."
>The two mulberry rafts drifted up to him.
>"What do you mean?"
"She's cute, talented, and funny. You're lucky to have her as a friend."
>Octavia's lip quivered and her grip tightened on her bottle.
>"What's she got that I don't?" Brad was surprised to hear her grammar mistake. She NEVER made those kinds of slips.
"Nothing, nothing," Brad brought up his hands to defend himself, "I didn't mean---"
>The water had already started to run from the two pools on her face.
>"I'm just like her, aren't I?!" her voice grew shaky, "I'm smart! I'm pretty! I'm more talented than her!"
>She pounded her fist on the table. The bottles rattling together with an eerie noise.
"Tavi, just settle do---"
>"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" she slammed the bottle to the floor.
>The glass exploded on the tiles releasing a pungent liquid. It foamed and hissed like a dying snake, and smelled just as bad.
"Octavia, please," Brad tried to console her.
>Her chest heaved and strained groans escaped through the gaps in her fingers.
>Brad wrapped around her like an octopus around its prey. He ran his hand through her hair. Her strands glided over his knuckles.
"Shhhh," Brad whispered, "It's okay Tavi, just breathe."
 
>Brad's nose caught a whiff of a foreign scent. It smelled like his dad while he watched the Super Bowl.
"Tavi," he said, "Have you been drinking?"
>Octavia sobbed, refusing to answer him.
"You don't need that shit in your body, Tavi," he said, looking down at the stain, "It fucks with your head."
>"What do you mean?" Her speech was slurred. Brad wondered how many she'd knocked off that night.
"Look at you!" he shouted, "Saying all this shit about yourself that you know isn't true! You're the best cello player I've ever seen and your hair is stunning! Why would you ever---"
>Brad's rant was halted by a pair of thin lips curling around his own.
>Octavia's eyes were shut tight with tears trickling down her eyelashes.
>Her tongue pushed inside him, an alcohol-stained snake slithering into his sober mouth.
>The taste of hellwater violated his tastebuds. The revolting flavor mixed with the scent cast at him.
>It was like she was releasing pheromones, enticing Brad to continue.
>Brad closed his eyes and returned the assault as best he could.
"Not another one," he thought, "Isn't one affair enough?"
>Octavia peeled her lips from his face, looking down at him with a calm gratification.
>Her eyes widened as she realised what she'd done.
>"Oh my goodness, Brad! I'm so sorry!"
"It's alright, Tavi," Brad wasn't sure whether he was talking to drunk Octavia or not, "Teenage hormones and all."
>She looked at him with those violet eyes, a window to a troubled soul.
>"Brad," she said, "Would you mind coming upstairs with me?"
"Upstairs?" he asked, "Why would I---"
>"Please? I'll explain when we get up there."
>Octavia grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet.
>Her eyelids drooped as she pulled him up the stairs.
>Some men whooped and hollered as he was pulled upwards. He flashed them a mocking thumbs-up, knowing well what they thought.
 
>He started to wonder what exactly Octavia had planned for him.
>She led him to a bedroom at the end of the hallway. Once they were both inside she locked the door.
"Octavia, what are you---"
>Her sultry lips pressed against his, silencing him.
>"Just relax, Brad," she said, "I want to give you something."
"What? Why?"
>"You'll see," she hiccupped, "But first I have to ask you something."
"What?"
>"Do you think I'm pretty?" Her eyes stared through him, searching for any hint of hesitation.
"Yes," Brad said, "I think you're beautiful."
>"More than Vinyl?"
"Way more."
>Octavia giggled and pushed him onto the bed. He sat on the edge, his legs dangling off of the side.
>The ashen girl crept between his legs and sat on her knees. Her face was just a foot from his crotch.
>Octavia went right to the point, unbuckling his jeans and pulling them down around his ankles.
>The only thing concealing his privates were a pair of white briefs, bulging ever so slightly.
>She giggled, wondering about his size. He brought her tongue down to his shaft and dragged it along the fabric.
>Brad groaned from the sharp shock running up his spine. Octavia hiccuped again and pulled her head back.
>"Damn," she cooed, "They weren't kidding about your size."
>Brad wondered who "they" were. He didn't think his dick size was the hot topic around the school.
>Tavi sloppily clasped his waistband with her teeth and leaned back.
>His briefs slipped easily off of his member which hadn't grown to its full capacity yet.
>She licked her lips and admired his growing cock. She couldn't believe she was finally face to face with it.
>She could hardly contain her excitement as she licked along his shaft.
>Brad was conflicted; he was getting  a blowjob, sure, but he really shouldn't be.
>He already had Twilight and Rainbow to worry about, he didn't need Octavia on his affair list.
"At least it's only a BJ," he thought.
>His cock had hardened considerably from her touch. It stood at attention to the woman in front of him.
>It twitched violently like it knew where it was going next.
 
>Tavi gripped his shaft and jerked it. Brad moaned from the first stings of pleasure.
>"Just a quick one," Octavia slurred. She brought her lips to the tip of his shaft and pushed him inside.
>Brad's back arched and his fingers gripped the blanket.
>Her lips clung to his shaft , a constant suction pulling him further inside.
>Her mouth was incredibly tight; his cock hardly fit between her lips.
>Her tongue slid along the bottom of his cock. His shaft was nestled in the deep groove of her tongue.
"This can't be her first blowjob," he thought.
>Deep moans escaped him as her breath danced across his moistened cock.
>Her pace was rapid, much to fast for a beginner.
>Her hand traced down to her groin and dove beneath her purple panties.
>She moaned, sending vibrations rumbling down his shaft.
>Brad couldn't last much longer. He didn't get blowjobs often and the experienced assault on his dick was too much.
>He grabbed her head as she sucked faster, eager to release his tension.
>He groaned louder as his climax approached. His muscles tightened and his heart skipped a beat.
>He felt her slow down, anticipating his impending climax.
>He teetered on the edge, just seconds away---.
>Just before his load shot out of his cock, the sensations around it stopped.
>His cock was still wrapped in her cheeks, but there was no tactile pleasure.
>He looked down to see Octavia's head resting on his shaft.
>Her lips were loosely draped over his length. Her tongue spilled out of her mouth and drool ran down to the floor.
"Shit," Brad said, "All the alcohol must have finally gotten to her."
>He pulled Octavia off of his shaft. Her head landed on the bed with a thunk.
>He picked her up and layed her on her back on the bed.
"Of all the times for you to pass out," Brad thought, "It had to be right before I get off."
>He looked down at her body. Her purple panties were darkened and her hand was still wedged beneath the elastic.
>She had her blouse on, but everything below her waist (save the panties) was bare skin.
>Brad's cock still spasmed, pointing straight outwards. Drops of precum clung to his tip.
>She hadn't let him cum. The edge of orgasm had flooded his brain with hormones.
>His mind told him to leave her be, but his cock was guiding him down the demonic path.
>As any man knows, the former fighter often loses. It was a first-round knockout for the latter tonight.
 
>Brad crept to her supine form. His hands slid up her blouse, searching for her breasts.
>Her skin felt like a marble sculpture; God's vision of a woman lay just beneath his fingertips.
>He slid his hands toward her neck until finding the change in elevation he was looking for.
>His hands crashed into the sides of her breasts like a plane into a mountain. They glided up towards the summits.
>At the peak he found two nubs, small and hard pebbles balanced on her pillows, and began to caress them.
>The alcohol coursing through Tavi's blood kept her still, tranquilizing her to Brad's assault.
>She was powerless to do anything to stop him but couldn't feel the sensations regardless.
>Her body, however, was fully aware of what was happening to her and it reacted appropriately.
>Her nipples hardened, poking between Brad's fingers. He squeezed and groped her tits beneath her blouse before raising his hands.
>His hands stretched her blouse apart, three buttons fighting to keep the fabric together.
>But Brad was stronger than a few plastic nubs. He pushed until the buttons snapped through the holes.
>His hands shot upwards as her blouse parted and fell to the side. All that remained of her clothing was a matching set of purple underwear.
>Her nipples pressed into the cup of the bra. Her breasts were far larger than the blouse had led them on to be.
>Granted he hadn't looked at her breasts much in the first place, but he definitely didn't expect to be met with a pair of C-cups.
>He unclipped the hook behind her back and removed the veil from her breasts.
>Her breasts were the textbook definition of a mammalian teat, rounded and perky like two small balloons.
>Brad dove into the pillows, wrapping his hands around her breasts and latching his mouth to her nipple.
>He was careful not to be too rough lest he wake her. He suckled the sleeping beauty and nursed her tits.
>His cock screamed at him to continue. It's not like she was getting any real pleasure from him doing this.
>All it served was to bring her body closer to accepting his cock and a subsequent orgasm.
>He lifted off her chest, and moved down to her thighs.
>He wrapped his hands around her thighs and pulled her crotch closer to her face.
>A dark purple spot created an erotic bullseye, guiding his tongue to her entrance.
>Brad took a few quick licks of her labia through the fabric before pulling the panties down off her ankles.
>He looked up to admire her naked form, her tits forming great mountains just a few feet from the sacred valley in front of him.
>He wasted no time as he dragged his tongue along her slit.
 
>He felt her body spasm on reflex. His tongue dug between her labia and flicked her clit.
>It was a strange cunnilingus; he wasn't doing this for her pleasure but rather for his own sake.
>Biologically, it served a purpose. His licking was forcing lubrication to pour from her slit, coating her walls in a thin film.
>Brad suckled her clit, spawning a massive flush of hot fluid onto his chin.
>Her body screamed for penetration but her mind remained oblivious.
>She wasn't the only one whose sex organ won out over her thoughts.
>Brad stood up. He flipped Octavia over on her stomach, her ass bumped slightly higher than the rest of her body.
>His cock shuddered at the sight of the woman presenting her dripping pussy to it.
>Brad clambered onto the bed and spread her thighs apart.
>He grabbed her cheeks and pulled her close. His cock strained menacingly against her lips.
>Her pussy leaked onto his tip, his precum disappearing into the clear fluid.
>He thrust his hips forward. His cock forced its way inside, splitting her walls like an axe through wood.
>Her body shook as he slipped further inside. Brad groaned from the constriction around his shaft.
>Her tunnel contracted, drawing his cock further inside. Her pussy dripped onto his shaft, forming hot rivers of fluid running down his shaft.
>Her ass rippled with each forceful thrust, sending shocks running down her back.
>He was gentle but only so she wouldn't wake up. He wanted more than anything to pound her ass to dust, but he fought the urge to do so.
>He stared at his cock moving in and out of her pussy, disappearing in a wave of sensation.
>Every time he thrust, he seemed to dip into a pool of juice, covering his in a burning fluid.
>Hot rivers ran down her legs onto the bedspread. His cock swelled, filling her tunnel with shaft.
>Every retraction was better than the last as his glans dug into the ridges of her walls, taking some fluid with it.
>In his ecstasy Brad overheard the sounds of the party downstairs.
>He wondered if the dancers below knew about what was happening just a few feet above their head.
>The beat of the music picked up in time with Brad's thrusting. He was pushed to the edge from her blowjob and this had forced him even closer.
 
>He started to groan loudly, a primal moan signaling his imminent release.
>He put a lid on his moans, hoping that the partygoers hadn't heard the call to fertility.
>He grunted as his orgasm pooled under his shaft. His climax lingered like rolling thunder.
>He thought very carefully about where to finish.
>Not only did he not want to risk another pregnancy, but he wanted to leave as little evidence as possible.
>The heat from the previous rapes hadn't died away; it hung over the town like a dense fog.
>With his target locked in his head, Brad thrust like a piston.
>His thrusting accelerated to a blur, his cock darting in and out of her pussy.
>Just before he pulled out he felt the starts of her orgasm grip his cock.
>He shut his eyes and hotdogged his shaft between her cheeks. He didn't notice Octavia's finger twitch.
>She had woken up only for a second as her orgasm shook her body. She felt her pussy vibrate before her climax knocked her out again.
>Brad groaned as he showered Octavia's back with his cum.
>The burning streaks of semen splashed against her spine. Creamy stripes stained her smoky shoulder blades.
>She was effectively branded as Brad's mate, his semen a testament to his domination over her.
>He panted as he held his cock between her cheeks. His body felt like it was melting into his groin.
>Her body heaved with heavy breaths, filling her lifeless body with vigor.
>He went to the bathroom and grabbed a cloth to wipe the cum off of her back.
>With a bit of elbow grease Brad removed a majority of the cum from her body.
>The rest would, with any luck, liquefy and drain off her body.
>Her pussy leaked onto the blanket, a damp stain forming just beneath her legs.
>Brad picked up her panties and slipped them back onto her legs.
>Putting the bra and blouse back on was the tricky part, but Brad managed to do it painlessly.
>Brad flipped her onto her back and crossed her arms in a sleeping pose. With any luck, the alcohol would wipe her short term memory. She would hopefully forget all that had happened to her in the past half hour.
>She would merely think she passed out and fell asleep from the party. She may not even remember the blow job.
>Brad got himself dressed. He gave Octavia a kiss on her ashen forehead and left the room.
 
>He didn't want to stay at the party for much longer. He wanted to go home and sleep before the weight of his actions really sunk in.
>He was halfway out the front door when a tall, burly man in a green jacket stopped him.
>"Hey man," the Neanderthal said, "You done with that girl up there?"
"I guess so," Brad said.
>"Good," he smiled maliciously, "I've wanted a piece of that ass since it walked in the door."
>Brad thought of stopping the grotesque proposal but stopped.
"Hang on a second," he thought, "this disgusting fuck might just be what I need."
>He was already halfway up the stairs before Brad could call for him.
"Poor schmuck," he chuckled, "He'll get one hell of a rude awakening."
>Brad slipped out of the front door and bolted to his car.
>He thrust the key into the ignition and twisted. The engine roared and the gears clunked as Brad shifted.
>He pressed his foot against the accelerator and took off into the night.
>He rolled into his driveway and bolted up the stairs to his room.
>He threw himself onto the bed and fought to keep the party out of his mind.
>No matter how he tried, he couldn't bring himself to sleep it off.
>After fighting to sleep for half an hour he realized that it was futile.
>He sat up on the bed and rubbed his head. He took a couple headache pills and turned on the television.
>What he saw flashing on the screen nearly made him pass out.
>There was Vinyl's house, sitting squarely in a helicopter's spotlight.
>Dozens of police cars surrounded the house and locked down the streets, their sirens blaring through the news report.
>A grainy, nasally voice pierced through the speakers of the TV, blasting their findings through the room.
"POLICE HAVE RECEIVED REPORTS OF DRUG AND ALCOHOLIC ACTIVITY AT THIS BLOC PARTY. DOZENS OF TEENAGERS HAVE BEEN APPREHENDED ON POSSESSION CHARGES. THE PARTY WAS INITIALLY REPORTED FOR DISTURBING THE PEACE, BUT WHEN A COP FOUND A SOPHOMORE UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF MARIJUANA, THE DEPARTMENT ORDERED A DRUG SCREENING OF THE PARTY."
>The camera feed showed multiple students being arrested, one of which a large man in a bright green jacket.
 
>Brad shut off the TV but never took his eyes off the screen. He couldn't believe his incredible luck.
>He had just left that party seconds before the first cop arrived.
>He could have been locked in, screened and searched for any signs of drug possession. All it would take was one DNA sample to be identified to put him away for a very long time.
>He threw himself on the bed and hyperventilated. A demented laugh escaped his lips.
>He had gotten away with it. He fucking did it AGAIN!
>The cards were dealt on the table of life. He had gone all in and got a royal flush each time and everyone else was dealt a pair of twos.
>He laughed to himself for a while before a troubling thought struck him.
>Octavia was in that house, and she had alcohol on her breath.
>Surely she would get a fine, if not arrested. Brad felt a twinge of empathy for her.
>Of all the debauchery in the party, of all the sinners and degenerate druggies raving on the dance floor, Octavia had been the most pure, the most innocent.
>She didn't deserve what she'd gotten, not by a long shot, but he wondered if she would even remember their brief dip into the turbulent sea of love.
>She might only remember waking up to the flashlight of an assuming cop. His beady eyes would glare at her like she was just a fucking piece of trash.
>He would arrest her without question, a used whore lying on the bed with cheap booze on her breath.
>They would never see the woman behind the lies. They would see the character but not the actress.
>She would be treated like a fucking criminal, no pleading would be enough to convince the ruthless police of her kind soul.
>They would confiscate her cello, search it for booze or crack or whatever the hell they fucking needed to put her away.
>It wouldn't be the instrument of angelic sound that it was, but rather a case to store her vices.
>Her name would be in lights, alright, the light of the mugshot's camera flash.
>And it was all his fault. If he didn't take advantage of her, didn't waste time using her body for pleasure, they would have escaped.
>Brad fell asleep, his eyes glazed over well before he shut them from the world.
 
END
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
>