The morning after. Max wakes up and discovers that Darren as a secret.

-co-written with sammycolt-

Max woke, groggy. She had drunk too much last night. She tensed when she realized she wasn't in her own room. Slowly she opened her eyes, ignoring the drumming headache that came with her hangover. Her eyes went wide in shock when she looked down her body and found herself stark-naked lying on a bed that wasn’t her own, a sheet covering her from the waist down, leaving her tits bare. She swallowed when she noticed that her chest was covered with several dried-up, white streaks that ran up to her face. The room around her seemed vaguely familiar.

Then she groaned inwardly when the night’s events came back to her. She looked to her side. Darren, spread out, face down and lightly snoring.

She sat up, pulling the blanket up and over her breasts before she began mentally berating herself. No amount of drinking could excuse this. “God dammit,” she swore silently as she used the sheet to wipe the mess off her boobs.

God forbid Cindy found out, let alone Logan. Her stomach sank at the thought. He was avoiding her, but this isn’t how you deal with that kind of shit.

Sneak out then deny, deny, deny. Hope Darren was drunk enough to forget that the night even happened. Or better yet maybe he could just get run over by a bus. But most importantly deny, deny, deny.

Trying her best to not make a sound she reached over with her foot to where her panties had been tossed on the floor, with her toes she pulled them up to her and slowly slipped them on. It took her a moment before she found her pants, but her shirt eluded her.

“Dammit,” she swore softly looking around not wanting to leave any evidence of the nights activities here. Spotting the torn remnants of her light-blue bra she stuffed them into her pocket before returning to the search of her shirt. She swore again than gave up, deciding to just steal one of Darren's shirts. She could burn it later.

She looked at his dresser, and gently pulled a wooden drawer willing it to not make a sound. Shirts, she didn't like how much they smelt like him but it would do. She looked through the pile, finding a dark grey tee that would do the trick.

Under the pile of shirts something caught her eye. Slipping the shirt over her head she pushed the pile over. It was a picture, a girl on a bed, her back to the camera. Darren’s Bed.

She looked over at Darren, still sound asleep. Her eyes made a mental line trying to place the viewpoint of the photo. It ran directly to his closet. Her brow furrowed and she lifted the pile of shirts and dropped them to the ground. More photos, more girls.

Max's fist clenched tightly around a single photo, it was a little older than the others and it was of her, on all fours facing the camera, a look of ecstasy on her face as she was getting pounded from behind. Not caring anymore about making a sound she stomped over towards the closet, pushing away a few coats to find a small stream of light pouring out of a tiny hole in the wall.

“Mother fucker,” she swore. She left his room, quickly turning into the adjuring room. Against the wall was a camera set up on a tripod. A cord running to a laptop.

There was a couch and a bed, a Hispanic man with a patchy beard was slumped over on the couch, his hand still wrapped around a beer. Another guy was on the bed, his face clean shaven, his blonde hair cut short, with a lean build.

Max remembered them, they were Darren’s roommates. The guy on the couch was Julio, an unlikable loudmouth in his early thirties. He was a loser, always telling everyone he was a construction worker, but truth was that during the couple of months Max had dated Darren he hadn’t had a single job and he always hung around the flat, ogling her when she came over, drinking beer and making crude comments.

The other guy’s name was Brad. He was only a little older than her, in his early twenties and a little bit of a geek. He didn’t talk much, but Max remembered that he worked as some kind of IT-guy for some company. He hadn’t had many friends except for Darren and Julio, so he spent his spare time with them, acting like their servant, doing everything to be accepted. Max had always felt kinda pitiful towards him, though right now she just wanted to punch him in the face.

They had been recording her, and countless other girls for who knows how long. Max took a deep breathe and tried to calm the rage boiling up inside her.