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Chapter 11
by
Writerofsmut02
What's next?
Sober up
The bathroom is a small, cramped space with a single stall and a sink. You lock the door behind you and take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. You lean against the cold, damp wall and close your eyes, letting the silence wash over you.
Suddenly, your phone buzzes in your pocket, jolting you out of your momentary peace. You pull it out and see a text from your roommate: "Hey, the landlord is on the way. Can you meet him?"
You let out a sigh, feeling your heart sink. You had completely forgotten about the appointment, and now you're stuck in a dirty bar bathroom, trying to sober up. You quickly splash some water on your face and take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.
You check your reflection in the mirror, your eyes are red and puffy, your mascara smudged. You take a moment to wipe your face and fix your hair, trying to make yourself look presentable. You take another deep breath and open the door, stepping out of the bathroom.
Big John is still there, leaning against the bar and nursing a beer. He looks up as you approach, his expression warm and concerned. "Feeling better?" he asks.
You nod, mustering up a small smile. "Yeah, I think so," you say, your voice still shaky.
"You sure you're okay to drive?" he asks, his deep voice low and gentle. You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you're truly ready to face the world outside the bar. But something about Big John's expression makes you feel like you need to prove to him that you're strong enough to handle things on your own.
"Yeah, I'm fine," you say, trying to sound more confident than you feel. Big John nods, seeming to accept your answer. "Alright, just be careful, okay?" he says, his eyes never leaving yours.
You nod, feeling a rush of gratitude towards this stranger who seems to care about your well-being. You head out to the car and get inside.
You take a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling hands as you insert the key into the ignition. You turn it, and the engine roars to life. You take a moment to compose yourself, looking at your reflection in the rearview mirror. Your eyes are still red and puffy, but you manage to give yourself a reassuring smile.
Pulled over by the Police
The Casting Couch
A casting director's story
You are a casting director in Hollywood and you like nothing more than to use that position to violate your women looking to be stars
Updated on Jun 21, 2026
by Writerofsmut02
Created on May 3, 2020
by Writerofsmut02
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