One: Sara’s Deal 

Warning: Sexual Coercion/Assault 

Philo and Sara had a strange relationship, to say the least. They met under odd circumstances. 

It was a late night at the club, a place Philo frequented with his fake ID. He wasn’t drinking age at the time, not for another two years, but he still liked to get drunk whenever possible. Sara was a dancer, a pretty one. She was getting off her shift one night, around three in the morning, when she spotted Philo in the colorful, flashing lights. He was dancing and dizzy, silly and young. Easy. 

Philo had jumped regularly from place to place, and at the time, he was staying with Eero. But he had promised Eero that he would be out by the end of the month. He made no real effort to find a place, but he ended up getting lucky with Sara.  

She had gone up to him, dressed in neon lace and weighed down by heavy eyelashes.  

“You’re a pretty boy, you know?” She said, setting a manicured hand on her hip and leaning onto it.  

Philo just stared at her, drunken and prematurely enamored.  

He would not call himself pretty, but a lot of people tended to think so. He had longer dark hair that he usually slicked back. Sometimes he applied gel, but most of the time it was a product of him sweating. He had tan skin and pale sage-colored eyes, not too bright, not too jarring. They were just right, and he found himself using them to get what he wanted.  

“Yeah? Think so?” Philo purred, inhaling a bit of his cigarette and turning his head to blow the smoke away from her face. 

“And a gentleman, it seems.” Sara took him by his arm. She pulled him close and put her mouth right up to his ear. “Want to take me home?”  

“I’d love to, but I don’t really have one right now.” Philo told her honestly, and she tilted her head. 

“That’s fine. Come to mine.”  

So, against his better judgement, he did. He spent the night there that night and never really left and would not have to. Not as long as he kept sleeping with Sara.  

At first, it was easy. Sara was sweet and fun. She was pretty, too. There were no strings attached and nothing was serious. But slowly, it had devolved into something unhealthy, an obsession on Sara’s end. 

So, as Philo stared up at her apartment, and as Eero drove away slow, Philo felt his heart sink deep into his chest. He really hoped she didn’t expect anything of him tonight. All he wanted tonight was a nice shower and his blow-up bed in the living room.  

Walking into the apartment, Philo knew Sara had been drinking. She heard him at the door, skipped over excitedly, and landed a forcible, sloppy kiss on his mouth.  

“Why were you out so late?” She’s asking when she pulls back, her arms locked tight around his neck. Philo feels a wave of shame roll through his stomach. Sara would be twenty-seven later this year, and Philo had just turned twenty. Sara had thought she had the love of her life in her arms, and Philo felt nothing when he kissed her.  

Things were bound to end horribly, and soon. Philo could not act the part much longer.  

“Eero and I went for drinks. Wasn’t checking the time. Sorry.” Philo lied, reaching up to twist a hand into his hair. He slides it from the front to the back, feeling how desperately he needed a shower. “I’m going to get a shower in before bed.”  

Philo gently nudges Sara away, making sure not to be too harsh about it. He had done that once, and she had screamed at him, been so close to kicking him out. He did not want a repeat of that, not ever. 

“It’s okay. Want me to join you?” She adds, leaning on the doorframe as Philo makes his way down the hall. The apartment was not big, it had one bedroom that Sara and her brother, Ian shared. Ian was younger, only fifteen. He could have stayed with their parents, but he insisted on moving out with Sara.  

Ian was sprawled out on the couch tonight; a book settled between his legs. He was trying his best to ignore his sister, but from the look on his face alone, Philo could tell the task was impossible. 

“No, thanks. I’m too tired.” Philo waves his hand, feeling his heart rate speed up. There was always fear when he rejected Sara. He had done it a lot lately, and he was afraid that soon, she would kick him out for it. That was the deal, after all; sleep with her for a roof over his head. 

Philo headed for the bathroom, a small white tiled room with a small, single person shower. He closed the door and pushed aside the raggedy blue curtain. Before he could even take his shirt off, Sara was fiddling with the door and welcomed herself in. That door had never locked properly. 

She got up real close to Philo, pressing her chest to his back. Philo shivered as she slid her hands up his stomach.  

“Come on, Philo. It’s been almost a month since we had sex.” Sara mumbled into his ear, voice scratchy and suggestive. “You remember the deal, don’t you?” 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ☆ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ 

After the shower was over, Philo dried off his freshly washed hair and patted down the rest of his body. Sara had stayed in the shower until she got what she wanted, and then she left him to finish up by himself. Philo caught himself staring into the broken, full-length mirror for a long time. He was naked, dripping onto the tile and allowing the steam to burn at his skin.  

He felt so pathetic. 

Philo dressed himself quickly in clothes that hid his eyes from the body he had just betrayed. A large grey hoodie and some baggy sweatpants. 

Ian stared at him with wide eyes from the couch. He was still on the same page of his book as earlier. Philo didn’t look at him for long, not wanting the kid to feel guilty. He needed some fresh air, so he headed for the front porch. He leaned by the windowsill, protected by the small awning over the window. 

He fished hurriedly for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, pulling them out and lighting one. He drew a breath in, letting it out shakily. The smoke disappeared into the rainy night. The pattering of the rain filled his mind, emptied by the soothing sound of the storm. 

A moment later, Ian nudges his way out from the front door. He looks nervous and concerned, holding his open book close to his chest. 

“What happened tonight?” The younger boy asks, leaning back beside Philo. He adds, hastily “I mean, before Sara.” 

Philo glanced to him, and he could see the sympathy in his eyes.  

“Stole some beer. Got chased around the city for a while. The guy had a gun, this time.” Philo laughs, taking another drag from the cigarette and coughing the smoke out. Ian’s mouth forms a small smile, and he holds his book tighter. 

“Scary. I bet you were fine, though. You’re fast. I’ve seen you run.”  

Philo says nothing, just blows out smoke. Ian messes with his fingers, feeling awkward.  

Ian knew about Sara and Philo’s relationship. He had seen Sara get angry at Philo. He’d seen her scream at him, hit him. He’d seen the terrified face Philo would make when she did it, he’d seen the shaking of his fingers when she was around, he’d seen the stress in his eyes.  

He never mentioned it to Philo, and Philo couldn’t blame the kid. Sara was his big sister; she was a mother figure to him, and Philo desperately did not want to ruin that for him.  

But he knew he had to get away. Soon.  

“Have you fed that cat again? What did you call him?” Philo looks over at Ian, who perks up at the question.  

“I haven’t decided yet. Sara wants to call him Blue, but I like Smoky.” Ian rambles, and Philo watches him with a fond smile. If he could, he would take Ian with him. Ian had become sort of like a younger brother to him in the time he stayed with Sara. He knew he couldn’t take him. Sara was his legal guardian, and it just wasn’t possible. 

“I like Smoky, too.” Philo says, and he’s not sure if he says it purely because Sara likes the other name or not.  

Ian messes with his hands again, and Philo realizes he should probably be the adult in this conversation. It was clear the kid wanted to talk about what happened earlier that night. He just did not know how to bring it up. 

“What’s wrong, buddy?” Philo asks, and Ian looks away. 

“I just wanted to say...” He pauses, unsure of his words. “If you want to leave, I won’t say anything.”  

Philo says nothing. 

“I will understand.” Ian adds a minute later. 

Philo nods, and Ian’s brows furrow with unspoken frustration. They both turn and stare into the night once more, falling into a comfortable silence for the rest of the night.