Some Fries

Idea from my head aha

She'd needed a smoke to clear her head.

Hours of being stuck at her desk mulling over ideas for her manuscript had finally done its job and she couldn't take any more so she'd snuck out the back door and into the alleyway behind her house to smoke in peace.

Her mother was staying over for a few days since the older woman had somehow sensed that her daughter's mood was becoming more volatile in her isolation and so, she couldn't smoke in the house lest her mother spontaneously wakes up and catch her.

Yeah, she still had to break her bad habit to her mother but it wasn't something she could easily do since she had convinced her mother to quit the habit years ago. Quite hypocritical of her.

It was cold and the night air was still biting despite her not bothering to change out of her makeshift pyjamas that consisted of a pair of shorts and an old angsty t-shirt from her teen years that simply read: 'Morning, I see that the assassins failed again'.

If only she didn't pick up such a bad habit. Perhaps the events of the night would have occurred differently, maybe she would have just taken a break from work to nap instead of going out to kill her lungs some more.

Alas, when she was halfway through burning down her cigarette and she'd looked up at the sound of muffled yelling, it was to the sight of two large, burly men hauling someone with a bag over their head into the back of a black van.

Her cigarette sticking to her bottom lip for a moment as her mouth hung open in shock, it dropped to the ground just as she uttered out a "Holy shit".

This was a mistake, in retrospect. Her shocked exclamation was not only loud to her own ears it would seem as the two men turned to her after sliding closed the back door of the van. 

Making eye contact with them and the sound of the van door closing resounding within her head, her fight or flight instinct seemed to finally wake up and realise 'Oh fuck, they see me. They see that I can see them seeing me. Oh fuck, oh shit'. She didn't even get a chance to turn and screech before they were on her, one holding her arms back as the other shoved their hand over her nose and mouth.

Confused at what they were doing and terrified at the same time as many different scenarios ran through her head, late nights of research on chloroform hit her at the same time that the sweet smell did and she could only feel frustrated that she was such an idiot moments before she was out like a light.

Waking up felt much the same as waking up with a hangover, her limbs feeling sluggish and her head struggling to connect pieces like a toddler mindlessly slamming a square block into the circle space.

Blearily looking around at her surroundings, she attempted to move her arms and looked down in confusion to see that her arms were restricted, tied together at the wrists with what looked and felt like rope from her brief experience of using rope in old art classes. Shifting around revealed that she was seated on the world's most uncomfortable wooden chair with her ankles both tied to chair legs.

"So she lives!"

Startling at the rather loud statement and locating the source of the voice, she saw that it belonged to a tall man with brown hair, brown eyes and rather tan skin. Overall, if it weren't for his overly muscled stature, she would've just filed him into 'unnamed side character' in her head with how plain his features were. Further scrutinising him and the room that she was in now that she was more awake, he was quite clearly the one in charge as three other men were in the room but weren't pulling any attention to themselves and simply standing guard. One of these men standing over the crumpled form of someone with a bag over their head, the same person that she'd seen being hauled into the back of a van.

"Oi, ignore the moneymaker. You have some answers to give me".

Unamused, she looked back to the plain faced 'boss' and sat back in her seat before responding "What?" Her fear from earlier seemed pointless when she looked back on it now since she was clearly in a 'hostage' situation and the most that would be done to her is killing her, which she wouldn't want but it wasn't the worst-case scenario when she thought about the fact that she could've been sold off to- Wait. From what she'd read from articles, there was usually a process in between transactions. She would need to confirm her position.

"First of all, what did you see? Second of all, I'd like to know why you aren't screaming bloody murder". He got closer and in her face as he sneered out his questions but her mind was miles away still so the questions just barely registered. 

Thinking about her reply was easy but it required her going through various scenarios that could follow said reply so she needed to think about meaningful things like tone and posture. If she replied indifferently then he'd probably get angry, if she replied fearfully then- No, there'd be no point in faking being scared. Emotions were hard to come by for her.

Stretching as much as she could to crack her back, she then relaxed back in her seat and looked over the dark room that they were in before her gaze moved back to Plain Face "Firstly, I saw someone get shoved into a van. Secondly, what good would screaming do for me?" It was true, what would it do other than annoy everyone? Plus, screaming required such an effort and it always felt like she was gonna puke after doing it so she'd honestly refrained from raising her voice or screaming out for quite a few years.

Her answers seemed to amuse him which she didn't exactly foresee but it wasn't out of the question, you did get these sort of people who would get fascinated by reactions that they never expected.

"Hmm, well, I don't plan to kill you since you've interested me but I'm not letting you go. You've seen too much. That will be all for today though". With that said, Plain Face turned and waved a hand towards the guy who was standing over their 'moneymaker'. The guy took the bag off of their 'moneymaker' and then followed behind Plain Face to leave the room.

Waiting until they had left the room and glancing warily at the two men who were apparently standing guard at the door, she looked back to the 'moneymaker' to identify who the hell they were now that they didn't have a bag on their head.

Cocking her head to the side when she saw a man's face staring back at her, she squinted. The black hair and blue eyes were a hard combo to come by when you considered genetics but there was something else about him. He looked familiar and that was weird because she was a near shut-in who only wrote books and worked from home which meant that she rarely made any new friends, her only remaining ones being those she'd met over the internet. Sad but true.

The action of cocking her head to the side had caused some of her hair to slide down into her face so she had to huff and blow the red strands away - yes, red because brown had been boring so dyeing it was her coping mechanism. One of them anyway. Leaning back to sort out her thoughts that were currently scrambled all over the place, she closed her eyes, the bright green disappearing beneath pale eyelids.

The first thing to think about was what she was going to do. Obviously, escaping was out of the question. The men that she'd seen from the get-go looked like bodybuilding was their life and two of them were currently guarding the door to the room and with guarding, there was usually a shift change so there were probably more people in the building than the ones that she'd already seen. With muscles... she had no chance. A morning run followed by lazy yoga was all that she usually did so strength was a no, she used a jar opener for jars.

The next thing on the agenda to follow that up is how she could benefit from this. There was no equal standing here, she was below Plain Face's - she really needed to get a name from him's - minions, possibly even lower, so she needs to find out what she could give him that didn't involve her doing the nasty because she was a 26-year-old virgin and proud, dammit. Information was always valuable and she had tons of it from the many rounds of late-night research that she's gone on but narrowing it down to what information he'd be interested in was gonna be a tough one.

"Uh, are you okay...?" It was only a mere whisper and the voice sounded husky and slightly strained but she heard it all the same as she opened her eyes and looked to the 'moneymaker'. It was understandable that his voice sounded the way it did from all the yelling that she'd heard him doing before it was cut off from him being shoved into a van.

About to reply, she stopped in the middle of opening her mouth and she leaned forward dangerously far so that the chair moved slightly but she didn't care as recognition shone in her eyes "You're that one actor! I saw you in 'Lover's Detective', that's why you're familiar".

It was only one series that she'd watched during a brief month of boredom in-between days of waiting on a manuscript being approved but she recognised him as being the actor who'd played the Detective, one of the main protagonists. It was understandable now why he was hard to place since it was the only thing that she'd seen him in, watching shows and movies being a rare thing for her, but it also made some sense as to why he'd been kidnapped and why he was a 'moneymaker'. He was a valued member of society, a celebrity, so his being held for ransom just made sense in their cruel world.

Hearing a snort from one of the men standing at the doorway, she came away from her thoughts and focused back on the 'moneymaker' and frowned. Knowing his face and where she remembered it from didn't help though since she, uh, still didn't know his actual name. She knew that, as the Detective, his screen name had been August but she couldn't just call him that outside of her head because then she'd look like a crazy fan like that one woman in that one Buddies* episode and that didn't make sense because she didn't even know him.

Composing herself and sitting back in her seat, she saw that, uh, 'August's' hands were tied up much like her own but they were attached to a chain above his head whilst he was seated on the ground with his legs tied together beneath him. Ouch, forced seiza sounded painful.

"So... You're a fan?" How to respond without coming off as rude...? 

Mulling it over in her head for a moment, she hesitantly replied "Um, well, I liked the series, I just didn't, uh, recogniseyouatall". That didn't come out quite right, so, she tried again "Ah, not that I didn't like your acting in it, it's just that you looked familiar and I had no idea but I was very happy to place your face but I just can't seem to placeyourname".

This was why she preferred interaction over the internet with strangers. Her socialisation skills were... abysmal.

"Ah... My name's Adrian Carver, if that helps?" Darn, she'd made him seem unsure of himself when he was only introducing himself. Cool last name though.

Clearing her throat, she briefly glanced at their guards before speaking up, making conversation might keep her sane if anything else, "I'm Iris Fowler. Sorry if I came off as... frazzled? I just like knowing things so knowing that I knew your face but couldn't place where I knew it from was a little aggravating... So, what do you do for a living?" Ah, she wanted to die. Despite just telling him where she knew him from i.e his character that he acted as, she really did just ask him what he does for a living.

Looking away and deflating in her seat, not getting very far what with her ankles being tied to said seat, Iris just knew that her only hope of making conversation just died.

"Well, I am an actor most of the time". Gaze moving back to him in surprise and seeing the amused look on his face, she smiled in return and felt that, despite their situation, maybe this wouldn't be as bad as it could've been.