𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐀𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐝 𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐮𝐦? | 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 (𝐎𝐂)

FOUR

Laura set down her plate with trembling hands, her mind reeling. Panic surged through her chest, tightening like a vice. She pushed herself off the couch, pacing the length of the living room as her thoughts raced uncontrollably. Tears stung her eyes, and before she could stop them, they started falling.

"No...no, no, no." She whispered, her voice breaking. She didn't want this. She didn't want to be here-in this world, of all places. A world that was twisted, darker, more dangerous than anything she had ever known.

She wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand, but the tears kept coming. It wasn't supped to be like this. She wasn't supposed to be in some nightmarish reality where Vought, The Boys, and The Seven actually existed. Her friends had practically forced her to watch the show, and she'd barely made it through without feeling sick. The violence, the corruption-it had all been too much.

And now it was real. Too real.

Laura wrapped her arms around herself, sinking to her knees as she choked back sobs. "Why am I here?" She whispered, her voice trembling. "Why would anyone send me here?"

As her eyes darted around the room, something caught her attention. A piece of paper, sitting neatly on the coffee table. She hasn't noticed it before, but now, it stood out like a beacon. Her heart skipped a beat as she slowly reached for it, wiping her tear-streaked face before picking it up.

The handwriting was familiar-too familiar. It was her own.

How...? Laura blinked in confusion, her breathing shallow as she began to read the note.

The message was brief, but the words felt like they were written specifically for her.

You work at a small clinic, the note read, followed by an address scrawled in the same familiar handwriting. Laura stared at it, her mind racing even faster.

"A clinic? What clinic?" She muttered, her brow furrowed in confusion. She had just been studying, about to graduate nursing school, but she didn't have a job like that yet. Her only job had been at the college library, to help pay her bills while her parents covered her tuition. But this note...it was written as if she'd already became a nurse.

She kept reading, her confusion growing with each line. The note listed the days and hours she worked, detailing her schedule at the clinic. It even said there was a car waiting for her to drive to work.

Laura rolled her eyes, a bitter laugh escaping her. "Yeah, right. A car waiting for me. Perfect." She muttered, wiping her face with frustration as she stood up. Apparently, she was expected to go in soon, too. Perfect timing. Her panic still churned in her chest, but now a sense of disbelief layered over it.

She glanced back at the clock on the wall. If she was going to make it to this clinic, she had to get ready. And fast.

Taking a deep breath, Laura headed back to her room, her movements sluggish. Her mind still swam with confusion, but the routine of getting ready gave her something to focus on. She opened her closet and, to her surprise, found a set of nurse scrubs hanging inside. Her stomach twisted as she stared at them.

This isn't my life, she thought. Not yet, anyway.

She shook her head, pulling out the scrubs and tossing them onto the bed. After a quick shower, she dressed and stood in front of the mirror, the reality of what she was doing slowly sinking in. It was all so strange-so wrong. She didn't want to do this. But if there was any hope of understanding what had happened to her, she needed to start somewhere.

Laura grabbed her things and left the apartment, stepping out into the unfamiliar streets of New York City. Sure enough, there was a car parked that matched the description, waiting for her. She stared at it for a moment, a sinking feeling in her gut. There was just one problem: she didn't know how to drive.

"Not happening." She muttered, walking past the car and flagging down a taxi instead. The driver didn't bat an eye as she gave him the address from the note, but Laura's heart raced the entire ride. Her palms were sweaty, her thoughts a blur. She still didn't know what to expect when she got to the clinic-what kind of people she would meet, or what version of herself she would have to pretend to be.

As the taxi pulled up to the small brick building, Laura stared at it through the window. Her chest tightening with dread. It looked ordinary enough. Nothing about it screamed danger or chaos. But that didn't ease the anxiety gripping her.

She paid the driver and stepped out of the cab, standing in front of the clinic's entrance. For a moment, she just stood there, staring at the door, debating whether to go inside or turn around and run.

But running wouldn't get her any answers. And right now, that's all she had left.

With one final, shaky breath, Laura walked inside.