Zarek was fiddling with the black thong, that he somehow managed to keep, as images from the events of that night flashed in his mind and chased away any chances of falling asleep.

He wanted to rid himself of the feel of their disgusting hands on his jaw, bum, and balls - he pretended it was Eva's touch instead, but it didn't work that much for him. He thought that if he hooked up with Trudy, then he would clear his mind for a while. I should've known better. Trudy would never allow that, and even if she miraculously did then it would only tangle their already complicated relationship. Besides, the girl was so hurt that even the devil in him told him not to mess with her and break her even more.

Zarek didn't know why, but he wanted to help her heal her wounds and walk her out of the shame of having the resulted scars afterwards.

With no hope of catching up to slumber, Zarek turned in the uncomfortable tub - he couldn't believe he stepped that low, although he very much deserved it - and that was when he heard sniffles in the room next to him. He froze - is she... crying? Zarek must've heard wrong because Trudy never cried before, well he only witnessed her on the verge of tearing up when he rescued her from Justin back at Hunter's party, but that was pretty much it. Could all of Zarek's assumptions about her - that the bad bitch attitude was just an act to cover up how fragile, weak, and sensitive she really was in the inside - ever be true?

Carefully making his way out of the tub and the bathroom, Zarek tiptoed to Trudy's bed. With every step he took towards the sleeping girl, the noise only got clearer and louder. Standing over her bed and inspecting her face, Zarek was beyond shocked - not only was Trudy crying, but she also did it in her sleep. Her eyebrows were frowned deeply as her lips whimpered, eyes pressed shut as tears rolled down her cheeks and stamped the soft pillow, her hands clutched at her bedcover for life. She looked so pained and afraid, making every insult Zarek ever threw her way come back and strangle his polluted heart.

Zarek had no idea how to handle this situation, although he felt like he, at least, owed Trudy to sooth her after everything she did for him that night. Zarek's guess was that she was having a nightmare, so he reckoned that waking her up was the most logical thing to do. The second Zarek's hand connected with the troubled girl's shoulder, the lock turned and the door swung open, making the light from the hallway seep into the dark room and momentarily blind Zarek.

Zarek pulled his hand back to himself as if he just touched fire, realizing how the situation must've looked like to the person standing in the door entrance. Although Zarek couldn't see the person due to the shining light behind them, he was still quite hesitant. Feeling like a dear caught in the headlights, Zarek took two steps away from Trudy and held his arms up in surrender.

"Wait," he rushed before the person could do anything, "This is not how it looks like. I swear I'm not a rapist."

"What are you doing?" the female hissed, strutting her way inside, "Don't wake her up while having a nightmare, don't you know it can give her a heart attack?"

"That's a myth," Zarek mumbled, having a closer look at the diva who just walked in. She was an exact replica of Trudy, except far more mature, sexy, and wicked. Zarek stared at her for a minute straight, trying to remember where he seen her before. "Wait a second, I know you." Zarek squinted his eyes at her turquoise blue ones. "You're the girl I keep witnessing at night with cheap wigs and tight ass leggings-"

"I don't care what you think you know about me," the sex god interrupted, "But you're wrong. You have absolutely no idea what I am."

"You're her sister," Zarek realized, failing to reason how he had been neighbors with this family yet not witnessing all of its members before. He shook his head, glancing at Trudy before he looked back at her replica. "Does she... cry in her sleep a lot?"

"That's none of your business," the woman snarled, turning around and leaving the room.

Zarek had no hope of falling asleep, so he followed after her. The girl didn't seem to mind, so Zarek took that as a good sign to work her up. Maybe that'll distract me. Once they were in her room, Zarek immediately cringed at the complexity of her bedroom, reminding him of Violet's room. Zarek chose to not focus on that, taking a seat on the massive bed to the girl's dismay.

"Don't get too comfortable," she hissed, manicured hand on her seductive hips as she glared at him. Zarek could imagine Trudy acting this same way, finally understanding where all of her attitude came from. Zarek eyed the girl's ombre hair, turquoise blue eyes, seductive body under the designer pyjamas, and reached the same realization he did back in Hunter's party where he saw her for the third time - that girl was worthy of all of her emotional baggage - so Zarek gave her a pass and tolerated her in hopes of satisfying his needs.

Zarek softened his gaze, perking his lips as he played extra sweet. "What's your name?"

She rolled her turquoise eyes. "It's Sandra."

"Right, Sandra," Zarek cocked his head to the side, a wicked smirk crawling across his face. "Tell me, why do you dress like a prostitute and roam the nights?"

The lady in front of him was so sophisticated that Zarek would've never guessed how she really was if he hadn't caught her a handful of occasions dressed like a total slut - synthetic wig, a casket despite the lack of the sun, and rebellious leggings. It was yet another reminder and proof to Zarek's theory about women; every woman is secretly a whore, and if unsupervised or given a certain freedom, she will unleash it.

Sandra played along to his 'extra sweet' act. She plopped herself next to him on the bouncy bed, a hint of the slutty girl Zarek caught flashing in her demeanor. "I hunt men," she purred, "And it seems to me that you're already stuck in my net."

Zarek ignored her dumb analogy and leaned in to kiss her and rid his mind for a while, glad that she was reciprocating his moves and so luring her would be easier for Zarek's sake.

"No, not yet." Sandra's index finger stopped Zarek's lips from coming near her, smugness apparent in her eyes. "You might get yourself hurt, little boy."

Little boy? Zarek laughed at that because the only age difference between them was three years maximum. Sandra wasn't blowing him off completely like Eva, or mocking him like Trudy, or already under his spell like Alisha and possibly every other girl, but was playing along and taking control of the situation. Being handled like that was both strange and appealing, and Zarek wanted more of it.

"Oh yeah?" Zarek licked her index, smirk broadening when she winced and abstracted her hand at the sudden gesture. "Try me."

Sandra gave a sly smirk, persuading her plump lips as an open invitation. Zarek didn't need any other reason for him to lean over and kiss her - finally, things are looking up to me tonight. Zarek's shifted on the bed, inching closer to the dark-skinned seduction, as his hand grabbed her neck and deepened the kiss to something raw, urgent, and needy. Zarek's eyebrows jerked up as he opened his electric green eyes when Sandra removed his hands and placed them around her waist, forcing a slow and sensual rhythm to their lip clashes.

Zarek refused to give her control, pinning both her hands in her lap and speeding up their make out. At that, Sandra pushed him away and stood up from the bed altogether. Left breathless and a little in shock, Zarek stared up at her in awe.

"Fine, I'll give you what you want," Sandra shrugged her shoulders in what should've been an innocent matter, but because nothing about her was innocent, it came out fake and a bit creepy. "Undress," she ordered.

"What?" Is she serious? Either way, she just made Zarek's mission way easier. Getting himself out of her dad's black shirt and grey sweatpants, Zarek looked up at Sandra to ask for the same, only for his mouth to hang in bewilderment as a flash blinded him momentarily. What the...?

Sandra stood before him, pointing her phone's camera, as she snapped a picture of Zarek on her bed in only his underwear. "Aren't you desperate?"

Zarek grumbled - you got to be kidding me! This was a whole new level of humiliation, as if being rejected, kicked out, sexually assaulted, and under the mercy of Trudy wasn't an embarrassment enough. The universe was getting back at him for playing the endless girls - Alisha being in the top of the list - by sending this diva prostitute to play him; Zarek had to give a fucking round of applause for that.

Zarek stood up and pushed her against the wall. "Fuck you," he whispered the words dangerously close to her face, although he wasn't cussing her in particular but solely himself. Zarek attacked her mouth with his own, not giving her a chance to stop him or take control. Ever since the damned night started, everything had been going against Zarek, and now Zarek was determined to at least get a grasp around this situation. Besides, who did this girl think she was, manipulating him when they only met two minutes ago? She was a nobody, and Zarek would prove that to her as he got what he wanted.

This wasn't a sexual assault, but merely a game - Zarek was an advanced player, and it seemed like Sandra had her own share of experience as well.

What Zarek failed to notice in his heated action was Sandra's arm as it reached for the doorknob. The second she managed to open the door, Sandra pushed Zarek away from her, with an unbelievable force and skill, and into the hallway.

"Better luck next time," were Sandra's victorious words as she closed the door and locked it in his face.

Zarek didn't even have tile floor to blink, let alone come up with a reply or barge back in. He only realized what happened, and the situation he was in - he was almost naked, standing in the hallway at Sandra's bedroom door, and played by her. He felt utterly stupid and gullible, and he hated it. This shouldn't have been the way things turned out - he should've had his relief, instead, he was grieving at the loss of whatever left of his dignity.

Zarek slammed his angry fist against her door, flinching at the noise it made. Zarek glued his mouth on the wooded surface as he hissed the words; "Fuck, at least give me my clothes."

"They're not yours, they're my dad's." Sandra's voice was muffled yet the smugness in it was clear.

Before Zarek could argue, the elevator dinged, indicating that someone was in it. Shit. Zarek picked up his prickly pieces of broken ego and hurried down the hall back to Trudy's room.

i usually edit the hell out of my chapters before publishing but i didn't even read this a second time because, well, writing Zarek in action is so... disgusting for me, lol, hope it didn't show in my writing.