A/Ns: soooo this is my (something)th fic swap with Jack, it's based off the song and video for Polygraph Eyes by yungblud. it's a really deep song and i highly recommend it.
WARNING: THIS FIC CONTAINS RAPE! if that triggers you, i highly recommend not reading this! also this has swearing, drinking, and non-consensual drugging. (yes, Vincent is an asshole)

Polygraph Eyes

We all know what happens next:
A bit of fun turns to regret.
Leave it alone mate,
She doesn't want to go home with you.

-x-

These weren't her sheets.

These weren't her clothes.

This… wasn't her room.

And the strands of hair splayed across her shoulder. It wasn't hers.

Where am I…?

From what little memories resurfaced of the previous night, Sharon failed to deduce anything.

All she knew at this point was that this was not her room.

Her head, overcome by a splitting headache, was unable to function rationally, instead haunted by an agonising throbbing. And despite her lack of clothes, sweat still formed a thin sheen over her skin. The light, breaking in through the curtains – not her curtains – made the headache even worse, each breath exacerbating the nausea which built and built in the pit of her stomach.

On top of that, her muscles were heavy. Each hitch in her throat put more strain on them, until every beat of her heart felt like it was trying to pump liquid steel to lead muscles.

Eventually, after several deep breaths, Sharon attempted to sit up. Rigid limbs began to explore the possibility of movement, until finally, she was propped up.

Her vision was blurred initially, but it soon recovered itself, as she further inspected the room in which she'd evidently slept in.

There were no scented candles. There were no desk plants. There were no fairy lights. There were no picture frames displaying her best memories. There was… nothing.

Nothing, except a crumpled pile of her clothes from the previous night.

Sharon froze, and blindly groped at her body. The only thing she wore, loosely hugging her thin and trembling frame, was a thin vest shirt. A man's shirt.

That man. The one sleeping soundly next to her.

She couldn't remember his name. No matter her frustration, no amount of frantic sifting through her memories would give any hints as to who the heck he was.

"Crap…" she hissed quietly, her breath hitching in her whisper.

Only then did the man next to her wake up, his long blonde hair falling down his bare back as he sat up, unfazed.

Heterochromatic eyes met hers, but Sharon still didn't know who he was.

With his lips twisted into an unsettling grin, he raked a hand through his hair, and said, "Thank you. For last night."

Last night…?

"Sharon, my dear~!" Break called, rolling his sleeves up as he stood at the door of their dorm, hand locked over the door handle impatiently. "We're going to be late, you know."

"I'm coming!" she called back, as she brushed through her hair for the last time. Then, smiling sweetly at him, Sharon instantly forced her boyfriend into forgiveness, intertwining her finger with his and leading him out the door. "Shall we?"

"Ooh, taking the lead I see~" Break chimed, "Does my lady have any ideas?"

"There's a club nearby which I don't recall ever going to before."

"Perfect. We'll make this a little adventure then, won't we~?"

The walk from their dorm took no more than fifteen minutes, the couple passing many clubs and bars on their way. At one point, Break slipped away into an on-route convenience store, buying a bottle of wine along with a pack of smokes.

By the time they reached the club, almost all the wine was gone. Albeit that was primarily courtesy of Break.

The club was hardly different to most, obnoxiously loud drum and bass music making the walls vibrate and fluorescent lights flying around the room in time with the beat. Couples (or perhaps not) were making out in every corner of the room, away from the main dance floor.

"Allow me to buy you a drink," Break dutifully took her hand and led her to the bar. Once there, he kept his hand intertwined within hers, and proceeded to order two shots of Malibu.

Sharon cocked an eyebrow at him, but took it nonetheless. "Are you trying to get me drunk already?"

"Would I ever?" Break snickered, clinking his shot glass against hers before downing the shot.

For a moment, his eyes met someone else's. Someone behind Sharon. Ignoring the burning sensation in her throat, Sharon glanced around, but by the time she did, Break's glare faded, and whoever he'd crossed eyes with had left.

"Ignore me," Break said, yet still continued to scan the club in his peripheral vision. "I must be seeing things."

"Perhaps you should slow down on the shots."

"That may be a good idea, but I simply won't. Dance?"

"Of course," Sharon chuckled. Of course, Break never actually danced. Instead, he would always stay beside her, fingers locked within hers, and glaring at anyone who looked twice at his girlfriend.

Before they even reached the dance floor, someone squealed Sharon's name from across the bar.

That voice was instantly recognisable. And sure enough, when they turned around, Lottie – one of Sharon's best friends at uni – came bouncing up to them, throwing her arms around Sharon's neck.

"I didn't know you'd be here!" Lottie continued squealing, spilling her drink everywhere. Evidently drunk, Sharon thought, but still found it quite amusing.

"It was a spur of the moment thing," Sharon smiled.

"Let me buy you a drink~" Lottie purred, linking arms with Sharon.

"If you're here, am I safe to assume Levi is too?"

"Yep. He's outside."

Levi was Lottie's boyfriend. Possibly. Sharon had never really figured out what they were to each other. It worked fine, though, because Break and Levi had always gotten along.

"I'll take care of Sharon for you~" Lottie chimed, and before Break could have a say it, Sharon was whisked away to the bar. "Cocktail?"

"I see everyone wants to get me drunk tonight," Sharon giggled, raking her fingers through her hair. She had zero complaints, though. This club had a good vibe, and her heels were already beginning to hurt. Besides, as long as she had Break and Lottie here with her, nothing bad could happen.

"You're stunning, you see. It is hardly surprising."

Sharon didn't recognise the voice to the right of her.

"And who might you be?" she asked, cocking an unimpressed eyebrow at the man next to her. He had unusually long blonde hair, and wore black ripped jeans and a black shirt, sleeves rolled up.

"You can call me Vincent," he smiled, and reached out to Sharon's hand.

Sharon retracted her hand – earning a snicker from Lottie – before he was even halfway there. Her words bitter, she held a hand up to him, and said, "Sorry to tell you, Vincent, but I have a boyfriend. So, I will have to decline."

"Ah, him," Vincent's features morphed into something resembling a frown and a grin, all at once. "I believe I have met him before."

"Then you ought to know that he wouldn't appreciate me messing around with you," Sharon replied, high-fiving Lottie and spinning on her heel. Her back facing towards him rather pointedly, she briefly spun around to grab her drink, and then proceeded to the dance floor.

What she didn't notice was the white, chalky pill, slowly dissolving at the bottom of the glass.

"Who are you?" she asked, trying to hide the trembling in her words, but to no avail.

"Vincent," he answered rather simply. The devious grin stayed put on his lips as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. Quizzically, he tilted his head at her, asking, "Do you not remember last night?"

Sharon began to shake her head, but before she could fully respond to him, her stomach lurched, sending her diving to the bathroom attached to his bedroom. Within a second, she slammed the door, locked it, and collapsed in front of toilet.

This never happened.

Her hands, sweaty and shaking, gripped the side of the toilet the best they could, as she violently threw up every last drop of alcohol and acid in her stomach. Tears streamed down her face, half in pain and half in frustration.

Drinking never made her sick. That was something her and Break always took pride in. There must have been something else. It didn't make sense. Just alcohol wouldn't have done this to her.

Eventually, she finished, panting and wheezing. Her back to the wall, Sharon suddenly spotted her bag.

Why did he… take this from me?

Wiping her eyes, she tentatively reached across the floor, and grabbed her phone from the front pocket.

5 missed call(s) from Xerx 3

"Shit…" she hissed, a rush of adrenaline immediately sending her to her feet as she hit the number and prayed and prayed that he'd pick up. Whether or not he'd admit it, Sharon knew he'd be worried sick, not to mention suspicious of her whereabouts.

She also knew that, in no universe, would Break be particularly forgiving about this.

"Where are you?"

No 'good morning'. No 'hey baby~'. No form of greeting whatsoever; not even a joke.

Break was pissed.

"I don't know," Sharon sobbed, holding a hand over her mouth to suppress a sniffle. "What happened last night?!"

"I think only you can answer that," Break said, his voice low. Disappointment was, however, clearly woven into every word he spoke.

"Break, please!" she cried. Belittling as it felt, crying was all she could do, with the overwhelming confusion and self-hate and utter cluelessness. "I don't know what happened!"

"That's what they all say. I think it's fairly obvious, don't you think?"

"No! It's not! If you know what happened, then tell me!"

"You went home with that blonde asshole. Vincent. I saw."

Sharon felt her heart sink within her chest.

"I didn't do it intentionally!" she pleaded, "Please, Break! Y-You know I wouldn't do that!"

"Haah, I thought I knew that. It seems I was wrong."

Silence lingered over the phone call. But only fleetingly.

"We're over."

"Please don't do this!" she shrieked, tears uncontrollably streaming down her face. Undeniably helpless. That was how she felt. "Break, stop-!"

The phone call ended.

"I didn't cheat on you, dammit!" Sharon cried, despite knowing he couldn't hear her anymore.

She'd loved him.

There was no chance she'd cheated on him.

… right?

Over the course of the evening, Sharon and Lottie slowly lost track of time, absent on absinthe and lost in the music.

As the time crept up to 1am, they lost Break again. Break, who had – rather shockingly – agreed to dance with Sharon for once.

"He's eyeing you up again~" Lottie pointed out, her and Sharon staggering up to the bar once again. "Break just had a go at him. He's pissed."

"Hm?" Sharon turned her idle gaze up towards Lottie. "I'm not interested in him."

"He's definitely interested in you." Lottie shot a bitter glance behind her, directed rather pointedly at Vincent. "Sharon?"

"'m tired…" she murmured. "Where did Break go?"

"Outside, with Levi again." There a small pause, as Sharon ordered the two of them two more shots of vodka each. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Of course," Sharon's words were muffled into an inaudible slur. Nevertheless – you could say admirably – she was determined to make the most out of her night. Spinning on her heel, she attempted to stumble back to the dance floor.

The moment she turned, however, she was confronted by Vincent.

"Can I interest you in another drink?" he offered, with a sweet, innocent smile.

"My boyfriend wouldn't want that," Sharon protested, checking over his shoulder for support. But her vision was terribly blurred, and nowhere in her distorted view could she locate Lottie. "You're a creep. I don't particularly want it either."

The smile planted on Vincent's lips didn't leave, in spite of the insult. "I'm flattered."

Her glare faltering, Sharon attempted to push past him.

The room was spinning. Dizziness overcame her. Suddenly, her legs were useless.

Sharon didn't register collapsing, though. All she registered was being caught.

A twisted grin crept onto Vincent's face. "Allow me to take you home. I don't think you ought to stay here."

"Break won't…" Her attempts were futile. Vincent was already carrying her towards the exit. "I can't go… go home with you…"

"Of course you can." He smiled. Unconvincingly, mind you. "What's the harm?"

Sharon didn't stop holding her breath. Not when she grabbed her bag from the bathroom floor. Not when she splashed several handfuls of freezing water over his face. Not when she hurried into the bedroom again, half-redressing herself.

"Leaving already?"

The urge to punch him was overwhelming. She'd never, ever been a violent person, but in that moment, Sharon wanted nothing more than to quite literally kill him. "Don't speak to me!"

"Sharon, whilst I understand you may be upset over this," Vincent's lips tugged into a devilish grin, "you agreed to come home with me."

"I would never!" Sharon refused. Sure, she didn't have her memories, but at no point didn't she ever question her trust in herself.

She loved Break. She always had. Really, she thought nothing could change that.

No, nothing could change that. Definitely not this asshole.

"I can assure you, this was entirely consensual."

"You're lying!" Sharon screeched, clenching her fists until her fingernails dug into her palms, and her knuckles turned white. "You had no right to take me here! I would have never said yes to someone of the likes of you! You're disgraceful! You're… you're a rapist!"

Vincent sighed. "Sharon-"

"Don't say my name!"

"- That is a very bold assumption to make," Vincent continued, "Particularly when I'm sure you have no memories."

"I don't need my memories to know that I wouldn't have said yes to you! You're just-" Abruptly, she paused, eyes widening as she staggered back. "Wait… how the hell do you know I-I have no memories?!"

"Ah, Sharon. Is it not obvious for me?" He smiled.

"You… you gave me something!" Sharon accused. Her grip on her bag tightening, she stormed across his bedroom to the door, pulling it open before Vincent could stop her. "Don't try to defend yourself! I know you drugged me! A-And you raped me!"

"If that's how you feel, I cannot change your mind," he said. "However, I must remind you, no one will believe you if you go to the police."

"Fuck you," she spat. She almost never cursed anyone. "You're disgusting."

"You said yes, Sha-"

"You're lying!"

"You have no proof of that."

"Fuck you!" she screamed. "Never speak to me again!"

Without another word – nor listening to his attempts to calm her – Sharon kicked the door shut on Vincent, hurried through each corridor until she found the front door, and got the fuck out of that house.

"Where are we?" Sharon stammered, as Vincent shoved her through his front door. Her movements were lagging; her reaction times were delayed. The room was spinning terribly, and none of her senses stayed in sync for long enough for her to observe where she was.

"Your place," Vincent said, his tone calm.

His words melted in her ear.

It didn't look like her place, but who was she to question him?

Her stomach was turning. Her feet were weak. Her muscles simply didn't do as she commanded.

Nothing even made sense until she was thrown onto a bed – whose bed, she did not know. Vincent, his hair draped over his face, crawled on top of her, a twisted grin donning his lips.

"I don't want to sleep with you…" Sharon protested weakly.

But that didn't stop the hand sliding under her dress, tugging at the strap of her underwear.

"You should make that face more often," Vincent smirked, running a delicate finger over her flushed-red cheeks, before leaning down and planting his lips onto hers.

The kiss was rough.

Sharon couldn't stop it.

Her attempts to restrain him were failing. Any words she spoke were too muffled, and slurred, to be decipherable.

Not even her thoughts made sense anymore.

"Stop…" she choked out, just about.

"Keep going?" he whispered, his breath tickling her ear, a shudder surging through her bones.

"No," Sharon tried. She tried so hard to overcome the tightening in her throat.

He kept going.

He only heard what he wanted.

The next time he kissed her, it was softer. Incredibly soft.

Sharon could just about comprehend failing in and out of consciousness when he stripped her of her underwear, and soon dress.

"Keep quiet," he said, his words hushed and calm. "This is what you want."

She didn't speak.

"Yes?"

Before her next words could slip from her lips, Sharon's consciousness left her.

Vincent saw her nod.

He kept going.

Sharon didn't recognise this street.

The buildings. The cars. The road name. Hell, even the people walking past, staring at her concerned, but not doing a single thing.

With shaking hands, all she could muster up the strength to do was retrieve her phone once again. With tears glazing her eyes, her chest aching, she pulled up the contact of the only person she had left to trust.

Lottie picked up immediately.

"Sharon. Tell me what happened."

A sob escaping her throat, Sharon could only say one thing.

"I… I don't know."

-x-

She can't even run,
She can't even walk.
She slurs when she speaks,
But you hear what you want when she can't even talk.