The Summer Job ~ Andy Biersack *Completed

--Baylie's POV--

He had managed to clamp the thick silver collar around my neck, tighter than before. It rubbed against my old cuts, and I felt as a small stream of blood streamed down my collarbone. I was in Andy's bed, beneath the covers actually. Tucked in, like everything was okay.

--Andy's POV--

Although that brunette at the bar was tempting, I was worried now. Ricky said it was just a misunderstanding, but with everything going on lately I could never be safe enough. No, I was just overreacting. I need another drink, and a couple sticks of nicotine to release my stress.

--Baylie's POV--

I could barely breathe. Oli was texting on his phone, looking worried and showing little acknowledgment to the crying girl near him. I took this as my chance and kicked my legs toward him. A shot in the hip, and it was only a bump. I rolled pitifully from the bed, gaining his attention. He scoffed and set his phone
down.

"Don't even try." He said.

I backed away slowly, panic extending to the tips of my shaking fingertips. I had to try. I had to do something, anything. Andy might be home soon, a maid might come in. I just need to stall his torture until someone can come for me or I can call help. He stalked towards me. I darted to the left, trapping myself on a corner. Stupid, Baylie...He lunged forward, grabbing the small trail of chain wrapped around the back of my collar and tugging me roughly towards Andy's bathroom.

--Andy's POV--

I slammed the empty glass on the counter, raising two fingers slightly to show I wanted more. I pressed the cigarette held delicately between my fingers to my lips, inhaling the black smoke and breathing it out in a cloudy stream of smog. The bitter taste of the cigarette mixed with the orange peel whiskey, leaving a sour sort of taste in my mouth.

The world was a little blurry, and if I moved too fast things would spin.

--Baylie's POV--

Over and over again, he forced my head under the water and held me there for atleast a minute at a time, just barely letting me come up for air before he forced me down again. I knelt in front of the toilet while he used the chain of my collar to pull me every which way. My head had begun to ache and there were bruises on my arms and legs from trying to brace myself against the porcelain bin. I struggled under his grip, my head pounding and chest exploding from lack of oxygen. Screaming would waste energy, I knew, but I wanted to so badly.

It seemed like an hour before he threw me against the wall and let me slide down to the floor, exhausted.

--Andy's POV--

I was a mixture of drunk and stoned. Of course, drugs had been available for me at beck and call and I was not hesitant to use them. It was time to go home now.

I called up a taxi, my head already pounding and my stomach feeling sick. I smelled like cigarettes without a doubt. It was an unpleasant smell to me at first, but all my senses were manipulated from the various things I'd popped and injected and smelled.

Car. That car is yellow. That is my taxi.

I stumbled messily into the car and spit out my address, throwing a bill at the driver that was probably much more than I needed. The more I tried to focus, the more blurry and hazy my vision and thoughts became.

--Baylie's POV--

I was slumped against the wall, holding my arms in front my my face. He kicked me so much I couldn't even tell where each blow landed now.

Stay awake, Baylie. Keep going.

It was so hard to keep my mind of the pain. Everything was sore. From the joints of my shoulders to my aching shins, sleep was beginning to feel very tempting.

I'll just close my eyes for a second.

Just one second...

Black.

Notes

Hey! Thank you for all the lovely comments :) Enjoy!