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Violated by Emily

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Disclaimer: I do not own the Lost Boys however I do own Stephanie. I mean no offense or copyright infringement towards Warner Bros or their associates, and have no intention on making any money from this story.
Cobblestone streets surrounded industrial looking buildings. An old sign emblazoned across one building read ‘MEAT’ in huge red lettering. The shop window below held beamed bright white with Diane Furstenberg dresses decorating the insides. Across the street three large bouncers stood behind a red rope accompanied by a well-dressed Italian man holding a clipboard. A dozen beautiful girls stood around them, entirely blanked by the bouncers. Inside the low red lighting surrounded a dozen tables, each with a bottle of Vodka or Champagne in an ice bucket in the centre. In the furthest corner of the club four club promoters stood throwing back shots of vodka straight from the bottle. They were surrounded by a bevy of fawning girls, mostly underage model types. Dancing on the couch behind them a tanned beauty standing 5’11 tall with deep set hazel eyes and shining brown curls danced unabashedly, with her arms above her and her eyes closed. Some of the girls on the floor stared up at her like an icon. They worshipped her like a modern crucifix as her arms stretched wide in rhythm to a song no one else is hearing.

At the bar, away from the rush of ego-inflated promoters, a platinum blonde man stared up at her. On his arm hung an almost sleeping girl unnoticed by the wasted dancers round him, ignored by the bartenders. Blood trickled near her ear, barely noticeable. He walked to one of the couches and let her collapse backwards. Some of the guys around laugh at her for getting so drunk. The blonde approached the beauty in the back, watching silently between the youngsters. He stood stoic and solid, not acknowledging the curious or nervous glances from the teenagers around him. Behind him a redhead stumbled drunkenly, knocking him forward. He looked back up and the girl was gone.

“Stephanie… Steph-anie…”

The high-pitched whisper pierced the darkness of the apartment.

“Wake up, beautiful… Steph-anie”

Hazel eyes snapped open. She looked around, confused at her surroundings. She lurched up in the bed and threw up over the edge. Her thighs ached and her body shivered as she retched. Her ex stood behind her smirking.

“What’s wrong hun, didn’t you have a good time?”

Stephanie strained to remember the blankness of the night before.

David’s blonde hair contrasted the night. Frustrated, he flew through the darkness to coastal NY, sweeping into shade, joining his boys for the night. He’d heard her name as the promoters looked around for her. Stephanie. Tomorrow night. That neck… nectar… He slammed through the caves, furious at his failure.

Back in the club, David strained his eyes in vain. Stephanie was nowhere to be seen.

In an apartment across town, legs aching from the drugs of the night before, Stephanie sat on the floor of her shower shivering. Her shiny hair hung lank and wet under the spray.

Rohypnol: colorless, odorless and easy to drop in a drink… often used as a come down from cocaine… something her ex happened to be addicted to. Causes aching muscles, inability to form memories under the influence and makes people more passive in sexual situations. Stephanie let out a strangled sob, as she held her bruised wrists out in front of her, watching the dried blood from scratches on her back seep down the drain.

With her brown her scrunched behind her ears tightly in a high ponytail, Stephanie checked through her hand luggage one last time: passport, money, ID, Credit cards, Cell phone and her laptop. She looked around her at her empty apartment: the bright walls highlighting the sheer hollowness without her things. They were currently being shipped to Santa Carla. Headed from LaGuardia to San Francisco, she was following close behind.

A new start was necessary now: the partying had gotten old, the friends had gotten fake and she couldn’t face the same clubs, the same people who had stood by while she’d been violated. With a heavy sigh she walked out of her apartment, leaving her keys with her doorman for the landlady to collect. As the taxi drove her along the FDR and out of the city, Stephanie watched her dream landscape disappear into the skyline… what had been a dream five years ago had become a nightmare. She was ready for a different future. She wanted to settle.

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