"Style is knowing who you are, what you want to say, and not caring what anyone else says." — Gore Vidal.
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"Ugh," Ben groaned, forcing his eyes open. His sight was groggy yet he shook the sleepiness away. Where was he?
He winced when a sudden pain seared his brain which made him reach for his forehead when he felt something drip down, only for his hand to come up bloody. That was when it crossed his mind that he had been hit on the head.
Great, he had been discovered, Ben sighed. But how? He had been extremely careful with Jeremy unless that man was a monster. His - Ben - acting was so superb and real that he almost gave out his heart to the asshole in the process.
