**Content advisory: non-consenting and anal only. Two near-strangers have an odd second encounter. Threats of gun violence, little actual violence, no blood. Dark and fucked up, but with a happy(?) ending. Continue reading at your own discretion.**
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I know the old but well-maintained truck parked behind the venue is yours. There’s more than an hour before opening, who else would be here? I don’t have a plan when I suddenly pull into the parking lot. I know that what I’m doing is stupid as I walk back behind the building, knowing that the front door will still be locked. My heart is almost beating out of my chest as I throw the back door open and walk into the kitchen. There’s a gun in my purse, and my hand is curled around it.
You don’t even look surprised to see me, much the less scared. You should be. You should be trembling, like I was last Friday, you don’t even know it yet. Instead you just smirk in that arrogantly self-satisfied way you have. “I wondered when you’d be back for more,” you say.