Sorry for not updating in what… a month, maybe? I dunno. It's been so long since I've updated this story. Well, Chapter 14 is here. Plus, this is the first Chapter 14 I have written since I changed my penname to RedEyedWarrior. Anyway, moving on, the scenes in this chapter may not be as inappropriate as the scenes you've read in the previous one, but be warned: they will shock you. A couple of plot twists await.

My Big Fat Creepy Roommate

From One Hole to Another

Owen burst into tears. He was crying profusely.

He was not crying as long or as loud as Trent, however.

"WAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAH!" wailed Trent.

Jo stormed into the room. She was very annoyed.

"Will you both please SHUT IT?!" she shouted.

"B-b-b-but MY JUSTY-POO LEFT ME!" wailed Owen.

"AND HE DIDN'T EVEN ADD A NINTH FINGER OR TOE!" wailed Trent.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!" wailed Owen.

"WAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAH!" wailed Trent.

"ENOUGH!" shouted Jo. This effectively silenced Owen and Trent.

"Good," said Jo, growling. "I'm glad that's sorted. You guys really need to learn how to cry quietly so that the rest of us won't have to put up with it."

"How could you be so insensitive?!" Owen sobbed.

"Because you idiots are crying for the stupidest of reasons!" Jo scoffed. "Owen! We know what's been going on for the past few weeks between you and Justin and we don't like it. We know that Justin's life for these past few weeks have been like Trainspotting thanks to you. He's practically done the right thing leaving you. And Trent! Seriously?! Lay off that obsession will ya?!"

"It's not an obsession you blasphemous heretic!" Trent scolded. "It's a religion!"

"Fine, we'll compromise; it's a religious cult," Jo sneered, rolling her eyes.

"HOW DARE YOU?!" shrieked Trent. "AND HOW COME ALL I SEE ARE EIGHT FINGERS ON YOUR HANDS?!"

"You really think we'd attach extra digits for the sake of a number?" Jo jeered. "Screw this! I'm outta here!" She walked out of the room, smirking to herself.

Trent ran up to the doorway and yelled: "COME BACK HERE! FACE THE WRATH OF THE POWER OF THE NINE!" All Trent received as a reply was the slamming of the main door. He sighed nine times and turned to face Owen, who was now lying on the bed. To Trent's horror, Owen was wearing Emo make-up and highlights. Additionally, instead of wearing a white t-shirt, Owen was wearing a black one. His pants were also a light shade of grey instead of being citrus.

"How in the Place Devoid of the Number Nine did you change your clothes in such a short space of time?!" shrieked Trent.

"It doesn't matter," Owen sobbed. "Nothing matters. Nothing."

"Okay, that was just borderline disturbing," said Trent, shuddering. "Even for you."

"So what?" Owen sobbed. "Without Justin, nothing else matters."

"Okay, this is seriously becoming a Twilight," said Trent, cringing. "And I hate Twilight. How could I not? There's only eight letters in Twilight. EIGHT!"

"No book nor vampire nor werewolf nor boring Mary-Sue character could ease the pain of Justin's absence," Owen sobbed.

"Owen, for the sake of the Ninth God you need to get over Justin," said Trent, sternly. "Besides, you two were never meant to be together anyway."

Owen snapped out of his trance and glared furiously at Trent. "Trent! How could you say such a thing?!" he gasped.

"What?" Trent shrugged. "'Owen' and 'Justin' do not equal nine. You should be dating someone with five letters or fourteen letters or whatever name that adds both your names up to a number that can be divided by nine."

"HOW DARE YOU?!" snarled Owen. "HOW DARE YOU INSINUATE THAT JUSTIN AND I WERE NEVER MEANT TO BE?! I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU AND YOUR CULT!"

"For the last time, IT'S NOT A CULT! IT'S A RELIGION!" Trent shouted. He lunged for Owen and a huge fight commenced.

Justin was running as fast as his (not-so) pretty legs could carry him. He was running faster than he has ever ran before. Considering the predicaments he was in, the speed at which he was going is very understandable, even for someone who would hate Justin with a passion.

Of course, Justin was only running for a couple of minutes. In other words, he did not run very far. He was lucky Owen was too busy sobbing and fighting with Trent to come after him. Sadly, there's a reason why Justin didn't make it very far.

When he was two blocks away from the apartment, Justin was grabbed and pulled into the alleyway. Justin wanted to kick and scream but he didn't. He didn't want to make a scene. He didn't want people to think he was as weak as he truly was, even though they already know because the tabloid newspapers never gave him any privacy in recent weeks. So naturally, Justin just allowed his assailant to drag him down the alleyway, down a flight of stairs and into a damp, cramped cellar. Justin's assailant placed the former model sitting on a chair.

His assailant walked ten paces in front of Justin, turned around and got down on one knee.

He spoke.

"Justin! I-I'm sorry for the way I've treated you since you got here!" he sobbed.

Justin was confused out of his mind. "What… what?" he choked.

"I… had no excuse! None! Such a handsome young man like you deserves nothing but kindness and utmost respect!" the assailant sobbed.

"Uh… thanks, I guess?" Justin was still confused.

"Justin… w-will you… will you…"

"Yes?"

"Will you marry me Justin?" the assailant asked, stretching out his hand. On the palm of that hand was a little red box. The assailant opened it, revealing a golden wedding ring. The ring was so shiny, it nearly blinded Justin.

Of course, Justin was profoundly uncomfortable. "E-e-excuse me?" he asked.

"Will you marry me Justin?" the assailant asked again.

Then it hit Justin. Hard. He realised exactly what was going on.

"I can't," was Justin's answer.

The assailant was bewildered. "Sorry?" he asked.

"I can't, Chef! I just can't!" Justin shouted.

Chef looked like he got hit by a train. "WHAT?!" he scowled.

"Look, I appreciate your sincere apology," Justin confessed. "Don't get me wrong. I appreciate all the effort you've put into it. But with all due respect, you're just not my type. It's no one's fault. It's just the way it is."

Chef stood up. Needless to say, he did not take the rejection very seriously. "Why? You don't like me because I'm not physically attractive enough for you? Eh?!"

"No, it's the gender," Justin explained.

Chef was fuming. "Y'know pretty boy, I ain't takin' no for an answer!" he growled.

"I'm afraid you have no choice," Justin replied. "Doesn't a marriage contract have to be mutually consensual?" he asked.

"I don't care!" Chef snarled. "You will be my husband! My obedient, submissive, faithful husband!"

"I… don't want to be the bottom," Justin cringed.

Chef went up to Justin, grabbed the model by the shirt and pinned him against the wall. "Did you not hear a word I just said?!" he snarled. "I. Said. I. Want. An. Obedient. SUBMISSIVE. Faithful. Husband."

"Then find someone else!" Justin snarled back. Chef threw Justin against the opposite wall.

"You are making so many mistakes young man," Chef breathed. "Don't you want to live?"

"Not really," Justin replied. "My looks have all gone out the window. What have I got to live for now?!" he questioned himself.

"Well too bad, maggot," Chef hissed. "You're gonna live. And if you don't be my husband… you will become my slave!"

Justin had only two words to say to this as Chef yanked Justin and flung the latter over the former's shoulder and set off somewhere where Justin would most likely be imprisoned, quite possibly for a long time.

"Oh shit."

Dun! Dun! Dun!

Chef has kidnapped Justin! Will he be better or worse than Owen? It's for me to decide and you guys to find out. Speaking of Owen, I wonder how the fight between him and Trent will turn out. We'll see.

Until next time!