A distinct pounding against a door registered somewhere in the back of my brain. "Sica?" a voice called, slightly muffled from some place close to me.

"What..." my mouth was dry and I swallowed hard. Forcing my lids up, I realized that the hot breath that had now drifted to my neck and the hands that found their way under my shirt didn't belong to anyone that I wanted near me and I attempted to sit up, "What's happening?"

One of the guys, someone I distantly remembered talking to earlier during the party when the music was too loud for me to catch his name, gently pressed me back into the bed that I discovered I had been splayed out on. "Shhhh," he crooned to me, a deceptively gentle hold on my shoulders, "don't worry baby, we'll take care of you."

I sighed, the hands now creeping their way under my skirt seeming like a distant memory. My brain didn't want to work and neither did my body. In fact, nothing wanted to work right then. Somehow, I knew that what was happening wasn't right; this wasn't the way it was supposed to go, but for some reason, there seemed to be weight against every nerve in my body preventing me from reacting or even thinking too much into the events that were unfolding. Content to simply lay back and stare fixedly at the curious black mark on the ceiling while the two guys in the room with me did whatever it was they were doing, I found myself rather irritated to hear persistent knocking on the door again.

"Jessica Jung Sooyeon, I swear to God if you're in there you better speak up now." That voice grated against the oak. One of the guys sighed with agitation and it once again occurred to me that this was wrong.

"No," I said faintly, then louder as I attempted to sit up again. "No, I have to go." The guy with the rough, dry hands, clamped down on my knees just as the guy with hot breath chuckled.

"Baby, you don't have to go anywhere. You're our entertainment for the night."

My brow furrowed in confusion. Why couldn't I move? Why did I feel so heavy and weighted down. Blurry, unfocused eyes met lust filled ones and I blinked to try and recognize who I had somehow ended up with.

Where the hell was I? Shaking my head to clear it, I tried sitting up again, lashing out with a hand at the guy who was holding me down, "No," I enunciated. "I don't know you. I don't know either one of you."

Another chuckle as my blow was easily deflected. "Don't worry, you'll know us a whole lot better by the end of the night."

Those hands that had been gripping my knees began to slither higher, and I panicked. "What did you do to me?" I whispered, bringing a hand up to my head to stop it from spinning so much. The guy in front of me placed his hands on his hips and cocked his head to one side, tsking softly.

"Nothing at all. You just may have had a little bit too much to drink."

Too much to drink...? "You drugged me."

I was so surprised by that revelation that for a moment the hands that were steadily creeping up my legs were forgotten. The tip of a finger brushed the apex of my thighs and I gave a startled yap, jumping with surprise.

"Sica?" the pounding started again, only this time I recognized it as salvation. Unfortunately, the two guys that had somehow lured me into that room must have seen in my eyes that I realized it.

"Yes, it's me, help me!" A rough hand covered my mouth and forced me to lay flat once again. My head swam and I squeaked, unable to make any other sound. Suddenly, it hit me that this was no longer a game. These two guys were serious, and I was in real danger.

Hands tugged roughly at my skirt and I kicked my leg out, attempting to stop them. The boy had dark brown hair and a cruel glint in his eyes as he easily deflected my blows, somehow managing to wriggle the denim off of my hips.

Alarm bells went off in my head and even barely conscious, I managed to bite the hand that covered my mouth. That boy had a buzz cut and a rather interesting tattoo on his shoulder. He pulled back sharply and I opened my mouth to scream but only managed to get out another loud squeak before his hand slammed back over my mouth, preventing anymore sound. Shaking my head with distress, I tried to pry his hand away. His other hand ran over my s roughly and I whimpered, fear making me tremble.

"Sica!"

"Go away," tattoo boy shouted gruffly, turning an angry gaze to the door. In the dim moonlight filtering into the room from a window somewhere over my right shoulder, I finally managed to recognize him as Jay Park, the school quarterback. He turned back to me even as the other boy forced his hand between my legs again, "She's busy right now."

I tried to squeeze my thighs together, but it was no use; the dark haired guy had found his target and much to my mortification, he began rubbing his thumb up and down my . I groaned with both fear and anxiety and began struggling to get away. Jay's hand left my s and focused instead on holding my hips and upper body do