Stockholm Syndrome

Acting 101

I hated that I’d agreed to attend this stupid party with Max, but it wasn’t like I could just go back on my word. I really wanted to, but I knew that doing so would only result in some kind of horrible punishment for either Lou or myself, and I wasn’t about to put us through anymore shit.

Max had given me fifteen minutes to get dressed and ready before John was to retrieve me and drag me into one of Max’s fancy cars. I could only imagine that we’d spend the entire night arguing and that it would end with some drunken abuse from Max because I’d somehow managed to screw up.

I sighed in frustration as I walked over to the bed and examined the outfit that had been laid out for me to wear. It was like I was some pet or something that Max enjoyed dressing up in ridiculous outfits. I always had to dress for his approval and tonight would probably be an even bigger deal than usual. I inwardly cringed as I opened the bag sitting on my white bedspread. It looked like I would be wearing a pair of ripped skinny jeans, a red plaid vest with a deep V-neck, converse, and what appeared to be studded dog collar?  It all looked very punk to me, perhaps something that Michael would wear, but not me.

But I didn’t have a choice, and whether it was my style or not I knew that Max would force me to wear it. I sullenly pulled off my sweater, shivering as the cold air kissed my bare torso, and replaced the warm garment with the thin plaid vest. I hoped that the party wasn’t in some club that had the air conditioning cranked up. I then slipped on the jeans, that miraculously always fit, and then the shoes. I purposefully left the bracelet/collar thing in the bag because there was no way I was going to wear whatever it was. 

I walked into the bathroom and looked over my reflection carefully. I didn’t look that bad, but I still felt weird about wearing clothes that Max had picked out for me. I was actually used to being told what to wear by One Direction’s management team, but the part that made it weird was that it was Max. I really had a hang up about that.

I sighed again as I opened the bathroom drawer and pulled out a small blue jar. I twisted the lid off and put a dime size amount of white goo into my hands before rubbing them together and then through my hair. I spiked it up a little more in the front and called it good. I figured I could brush my teeth and still have about 5 minutes left to spare.

As I finished in the bathroom I flicked the lights off, laid on my bed, and waited for John, Max, or whoever to come and get me. My thoughts wandered as I waited and one in particular hit me. Tonight was the first time in who-knows-how-long that I would be able to socialize with the outside world! I would be able to talk to people besides John and Max. I might even KNOW a few people at the party who would be willing to help me get away from Max! I could tell Simon where the house was and that Tom was holding Lou, and that we were okay, and then maybe everything could go back to normal. My heart beat faster as the list of possibilities kept growing.

 The night that I had been dreading was quickly becoming one of the most promising chances to escape. I had to play it cool though, or else Max would suspect something. It couldn’t be too hard though right? I mean, Max was there for a friend, he wasn’t going to be watching me 24/7. I just needed him to believe that I didn’t want to go and that I was only going because he was forcing me. I could do that, I could play that roll perfectly.

 I was pulled from my thoughts be a knock on the door.

I quickly got up and opened the door.

“Ready to go?” John asked as he looked me up and down. I felt like a piece of meat that was being inspected by a five star chef.

I swallowed nervously and nodded. I guess there really wasn’t a need to act around John because I really was intimidated by him.

John escorted me down the hall that I was so familiar with and toward the grand staircase. A small smile tugged at my lips as I remembered almost making it down those very stairs that now, ironically, I was being lead down.