A smile crosses Samantha's lips as she holds onto the beer, finally washing away the memory of her regrets. Pushing off the sandy beach, she feels herself stumbling forward as the beer bottle shatters on the stones of the fire. Walking forward with the breeze of the ocean air across her face, she focuses on the salty smell. Moving her right leg over her left absentmindedly, she tries to turn from the broken glass. 

Stumbling forward, she holds her hand, pushing over a beach umbrella as she walks forward. Samantha hates her constant need to fit in, be worthy of someone's attention and love, be needed, and be something more than herself to find peace. She has this ache that tells her she was never enough. Her boyfriend's nagging at every little real or imaginary mistake tore her soul. 

She had never been enough at work, for she had always tried to please. Taking on other people's tasks instead of her wonderful praise among her coworkers but little favor with her managers. Quickly, she found herself being demoted and, with time, fired. Her desire to be accepted for who she is courses through her veins. When she finally made it home to her boyfriend, whom she supported, his mannerisms changed when he became the breadwinner. Talking about how deeply disappointed she was in him all this time and that she couldn't do anything right. 

The few times she was ever accepted were with Jasmine and Marc. It was an almost instant connection when Samantha and her ex met the pair. Samantha felt the love, care, and support that flowed through the other couple as they reached out to her. The only thing that made her uneasy was how Marc looked at her boyfriend at the time. His eyes held this unbridled rage as he would be around them, never accepting that Samantha's forgetfulness with burning a pan warranted the black eye or the bruised lips. 

Tripping forward, Samantha feels like every muscle is loose and limber. Her words are even slurring as she talks herself into keeping steady. The way her tongue searches the back of her teeth to keep them from coming out as they feel like they are floating inside of her mouth. Moving forward, she wishes there was something she could do, something she could say, that would make her regrets and her fears disappear. 

Sam's hand touches the sand as Samantha kneels, feeling the soft, gritty mixture of sand and broken seashells prick her skin. Running her fingers through her blond hair, she moves her head to the side, sending blond hair cascading over her shoulders. She catches her breath as her eyes fall on Marc, the strength of his muscles, jawline, smile, and how he moves. She feels the way his forearms move out of his shirt, this hunger, a desire that sends her over the edge. 

Running her fingers down her slim body as she hooks her thumbs in the sides of her bikini bottom, lowering them slightly, just enough to show it's loose.... ready to come off. She knows he is the one man who could hold her leash, the man she wants and desires, from the warmth of his breath to the rough touch of his fingers. She desperately needs a man who wants her to hold her close, pick her up, and hold her against the wall. To conquer the lustful thoughts that linger at the edge of her mind. All men want her, but the desires she has, never quenched, drive boys crazy, but their desires never last.

Lust is but a fleeting emotion that everyone feels around her. But acceptance is always fleeting and is never a constant. It is always shifting and competing just to be enough. To spend enough, to have the latest phone, to be fit and enough. Samantha can't remember the last time she felt enough. Her boyfriend, well, ex, always compared her to someone who did so better. 

Her ex always commented on someone else's profile or flirted with others, wishing she was more like them. Dancing on the table more like them were more of the good girl like the other, more of the girl who maintains a home. More of everyone else but never who she is... only one man has ever wanted that. She had never given herself to him because Marc already had Jasmine. Jas was her best friend and the only person who could hold her at night and stop the nightmares from coming. 

A slight frown forms on Samantha's face as a tear slips from her eyes, wetting her cheek. Running the back of her hand against her eyes, she feels so lost. Soft tremors move throughout her body as she trembles, her shoulder shaking as the tears fall more freely. She struggles to do her best not to interrupt the party. 

"Come on, you can't keep doing this, Samantha," Jasmine's voice comes in the distance. 

"Not now, I can't right now," Samantha couldn't confess that her perfect life had fizzled out as the hiccups started. Jasmine constantly called out her ex's behaviors, saying she needed someone more, someone who wanted her in his life. 

"You can't do this; you can't keep doing this to yourself."

"I dropped out of school for him. You know, I just can't. All my choices were for us. You know Sam? All I ever thought about was him and I; it was just about us, always us. And he, he just thought of everyone else."

Jasmine's soft and soothing sounds only cause another warm tear to slip from Samantha's eyes. It bothers Samantha into the depths of her soul. She has a reason to be mad, and it is justified. She doesn't need to be calmed down right now. Infuriated, Samantha stands but quickly stumbles and falls into Sam's arms before collapsing at her feet. Looking up into her dark eyes framed by her dark brown hair, Samantha feels hopefully lost. Hating the way that her emotions jump from the erotic to the depressed.

"Why am I so weak?" Samantha cries, the hiccups catching her in the middle of her words. 

"Marc, I need you," Jas calls out. 

"No, I don't need to be taken care of..." Samantha protests.

"I can't leave you here like this, Samantha; you know iShe squeezesouldn't allow you and here on your own. You know this. He won't allow it."

"Please... he can't see me like this. He said the next time he sees me like this, he would..." Samantha's voice trails off as she remembers the last time she was a brat, daring him to correct her. To push her against the wall, push her over the table, to ma,ke him obey. She was drunk still, but she could only bring herself to come onto him then because it was the only time she forgot she wasn't worthy of him. As her ex used to say, she was unworthy of everyone, but he had always made her feel this way. Made her feel significant, and the threat made her feel safe and scared her simultaneously.

"Samantha, I have to, or he will punish me instead. You don't want that, do you?"

"No, but I can't now... I can't let him see me like this. I am broken, please; I didn't listen to either of you. I deserve this. I fucked everything up. I spent $200i, my last couple thousand on this vacation; everything is done, everything gone; I deserve this. I didn't listen."

"Deserve what?" Marc asks as Samantha groans in protest, not hearing him walking up to them. 

Bring the perfect gentleman, the perfect man, to ruin my night. Samantha swears it is like Jas has all the luck. Even when she fucks up, her friends and family are still there. She didn't lose her man or support structure when Jas was unfaithful; he just took command. Jas was so scared she would lose all they had, but instead gained a freedom that neither knew was possible. The lashing that followed left Jas promising never to disobey him again, and ever since, she has changed so slightly. Jasmine is still Samantha's best friend and partner in crime but will never hide something from Marc again. 

"None of your business!" Samantha's response comes quickly without thinking. 

"Where is your clutch?" He presses further, ignoring the tone of her voice, a small mercy that Samantha is far too drunk to notice. 

"Marc, seriously, stop. I don't need to be rescued. I don't need a white knight to ride in and fix everything. I am not a child and don't need anyone's help or pity. I need to disappear and stop being a bother to anyone." Samantha rolls her eyes as she looks to Jasmine for help.

"Do you at least remember the code?" 

"No! I don't remember the code for the house. I lost the clutch at one of the bars we picked up the cases. I didn't realize until a few hours ago, but it was too late."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Jasmine asks softly, "We could have gone back."

"It would just be another thing Samantha fucked up. No, it is fine; I did this, and the world punished me. For dropping out of school, for not saving, for being a bitch. I am losing everything. I quit my job and moved to be with him, and I lost him. I might as well disappear and never be found. I fucked up my life; I deserve this."

Quickly, Samantha gasps as she feels her hand being grasped as Marc lifts her easily. Samantha's stomach hits his shoulder, and her breath is knocked out of her as he manhandles her. She feels the alcohol leave her mouth in a violent outburst of liquid remorse. She squeezes her fists tightly and strikes across Marc's toned back and hips. "Fuck you! I am not a child to be handled this way... Put me down!"

Samantha's stomach squeezes tightly, her throat aches, and her entire world spins as she hears Jasmine gasp at something. Hearing Jasmine's voice in the distance, "She doesn't know what she is saying Marc...."

"She knows what she is saying..." His voice is rough as he holds Samantha tightly to his body, keeping her safe within the depths of his arms.

"She can't be held accountable for the..."

"Sam, that's not what is happening here; she is a danger to herself. She wants to disappear and never be found. We can't leave her here; that's my only concern now."

"Yes, Master..." Jas says as Samantha swears that is so strange. Master? Jas has always called him "Sir" before her. What has changed? What is happening at this moment?

Samantha tries to figure out what is happening as she closes her eyes. Closing her eyes, Samantha tries to protest once more the hot seating acid from her vomit burns her throat. Cursing herself, she instantly took the flavored vodka shots before they reached the beach. The acid burns her throat and nose as the tears come easily without sound.

"Leave me, I deserve this..." Samantha begs but feels Marc carrying her back to their house. Samantha hates that Marc has done everything right in his life. He could easily afford their beach home and the hidden basement designed as a safety shelter in a hurricane. Their only excuse was to keep her from entering the downstairs, as she had visited once before. But this visit was different. It was meant to be a vacation, an escape from reality, the curse of her poor decisions.

Desperately wanting to know what would happen if they could afford the perfect beach home, Samantha had reserved the Airbnb just down the beach to see what it was like. To taste the perfect life she would never have, a moment that convinces her she was successful. It allowed her to feel like she was something to allow her ex the feeling of being someone in his life, to know in his heart that he mattered, that someone invested in him. Someone wanted what was best for them, that they were worthwhile together.

As Jasmine tries to explain how much Samantha means to them, Samantha finds herself slipping into the darkness. With the third lurch of her twisting stomach, she realizes she has gotten sick all over Marc's back, swimsuit, and legs. "I would have dropped me ages ago; why don't you? Everyone else besides him and Jas already has."

"No one deserves to be left alone and forgotten. No one deserves to be nothing, Samantha; I have tried to tell you this for years. I promised you I would always take care of you."

"I know," Samantha confesses, confused as ever.

Samantha hears Sam's voice as she jokes with Marc, her mind at the edge of reason. She confuses him about his commitment and promises to always care for me. Promise always takes care; she doesn't remember asking him anything, let alone to promise. His answers appear far away in another part of the house. 

A cold cloth moves across Samantha's skin. She wishes this were a dream, shaking her body as she struggles to keep the tears flowing from her eyes. Feeling her body lifted slightly, she places her head in Marc's lap as he tries to pull her up. Samantha's mind reaches for some sense of understanding: "What?"

"Take these," Marc says as my world spins less. Samantha faintly smiles as she recognizes Tylenol, some electrolytes, and the multivitamin pills he takes. 

"I don't... I don't deserve..."

"Take these; you promised to listen..."

"Yes, Sir," Samantha laughs weakly as her chest and throat hurt, waving her right hand and mockingly saluting him. She takes the pills one at a time and waits while he offers her water. Samantha hates needing to be babied like this, but it feels nice. It feels nice that someone would save me, someone unworthy of being saved. She wishes she could just have disappeared.