TW

You met him at 2:17 a.m. in a gas station parking lot. You were sitting on the hood of your car, smoking a cigarette you didn’t even want, when a black car pulled up beside you. The guy behind the wheel rolled down his window. “You look like you need a better hobby.” You told him to fuck off. He laughed. You should’ve gone home. Instead, you got in his car. That was three months ago.