Control Z // Season 1

1. CALCULATING EYES AND HARMLESS LIES

01.
[CALCULATING EYES AND
HARMLESS LIES]

—

"PICTURE THIS: YOUR eyes are closed, your chest expanding to inhale the unfamiliar cold air that burns your lungs as you steadily draw it into your body.

"You try to calm the pounding palpitations ringing in your ears, the panic that usually sends your brain into a frenzy but you force yourself to relax.

"The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end; even in your drugged state you know without a doubt that the person behind your eyelids is very dangerous.

"You know that if they curled their fingers around your neck and squeezed they could end your life in the snap of a finger and you would be powerless to stop them.

"So you stay still. Paralyzed in terror while you bite back a whimper from the aching deep in your bones. Prey to God your kidnapper didn’t notice you stirring, or the slight shift of your limbs as you woke from your sedated sleep.

"A rustling echoes alarmingly close, the sound slicing painfully through your brain, your senses already on overdrive.

"Your mind is now on full alert, racing to try and construct a plan, to figure a way out when all of a sudden—

“A frozen finger trails its way from your temple across your cheek and runs across your parched lips; it takes all your willpower to hold in a bloodcurdling scream, the sound trapped and thrashing in your chest, begging on its knees to be let free - to let anyone who might hear know where you are, that you desperately need
help—”

I gasp sharply when a tall body collides with my side, causing me to stumble into the person's chest, the intoxicating scent of vanilla jerking me back into reality.

The boy's hands reach out to steady me, and I react almost immediately by recoiling from him.

The sickeningly familiar greying walls of my high school spill into my vision once again, the mustard yellow lockers and repugnant smell of teenage hormones — the miniscule sense of relief provided by the podcast gone in an instant.

I look up at the person with wide eyes, shrinking away and expecting to be confronted with insults, and my blood runs cold when I realize who it is.

He halts, watching me intensely as if trying to decipher my thoughts, and the sudden realisation of how unusually cold his body is during mid May sends goosebumps prickling down my spine.

Raúl stares at me with calculating blue eyes that appear electrified beneath the overhead lights, his gaze searching my face for something.

"Are you okay?" He asks, and I'm taken aback by his decency - he's usually such an arrogant dick to everyone, a literal walking example of the 'bad boy stereotype'.

"What?" I pull my headphones down with one hand to cradle around my neck.

"I said, are you okay?"

"No, I heard you the first time, I'm just surprised you would ask." I reply, feeling emboldened.

I honestly don't get what everyone else sees in him, or why he's so popular. All I see is just another one of those guys that love showing off and all the attention that comes with being remotely attractive.

But, he has got the fluffy brown hairstyle down to a T that all the girls love, I'll give him that.

"And why's that?" He scoffs, never taking his eyes away from mine, and a strange feeling flushes my cheeks. The corners of Raúl’s mouth turn up when he sees my reaction.