The text came in just as Billie was finishing her coffee. "Need you at the studio ASAP. Urgent." No name, no context, nothing to explain why her morning was being hijacked. For a moment, she stared at the message, debating whether it was even worth dealing with. But the word "urgent" gnawed at her. What if it was something serious?
She pulled on a hoodie, baggy pants, and sneakers, telling herself it was probably just something stupid—a misplaced file, maybe some logistical thing someone forgot to run by her. She didn't bother waking Raven. Her girlfriend was still sprawled out in bed, one arm draped dramatically over her eyes like she was in the middle of a deep coma. Billie knew what she'd say anyway—something about not stressing and to just go handle it.
The drive to the studio was slow and rainy, the windshield wipers rhythmically squeaking against the glass. By the time she parked and stepped inside, the place felt unusually quiet. Not deserted, but hushed in a way that studios often were when no one was recording. As she headed toward the main office, her phone buzzed again.
"Take the hallway to the left. Follow the lights."
Billie frowned, glancing around. Her gut tightened as suspicion crept in. Was this some kind of prank? But then she noticed them—a faint trail of LED lights glowing on the floor, leading down the hallway. She hesitated for a moment, considering whether to turn around and leave. This had the makings of some bad horror movie. But curiosity won out, and she followed the lights. They curved around a corner, stopping in front of one of the smaller rehearsal rooms. Taped to the door was a piece of paper with the words TOP SECRET: GIRLS ONLY scrawled across it in messy handwriting.
She pushed the door open cautiously, bracing herself for—what, exactly? A disaster? A surprise? Instead, she was greeted by Raven, standing in the middle of the room with an annoyingly smug expression. Around her were props that looked like they came straight out of a dollar-store detective game. A small table was set up with fake magnifying glasses, a detective hat, and a set of keys.
"What the hell is this?" Billie asked, stepping inside.
Raven crossed her arms, her grin widening. "Your mission, Agent Billie."
Billie raised an eyebrow. "You're kidding."
"Nope," Raven replied, gesturing dramatically to the table. "This is serious business. The Case of the Missing Christmas Spirit needs solving, and you're the only one qualified for the job."
"You made me drive out here for this?" Billie asked, incredulous.
"Don't act like you're not intrigued," Raven said, tilting her head. "Come on, it's fun. You love fun, don't you?"
Billie narrowed her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched despite herself. "This better be good."
The "mission" was as ridiculous as Billie expected. Raven had set up an elaborate game where Billie had to solve riddles, hunt for clues hidden around the room, and piece together a fake "crime" involving stolen Christmas cookies. It was clear she'd been planning this for weeks—the riddles were written on little cards, and there was even a detailed map of the studio with "clue locations" marked in red ink.
The first riddle was some cheesy line about something "round, sweet, and cold as snow." It turned out to be a Christmas cookie. The "evidence" was a small tin of cookies hidden under the table. Billie rolled her eyes but secretly loved every second of it.
At one point, Raven handed her a magnifying glass and insisted she wear the detective hat. "It's part of the experience," she said, her tone mock-serious.
Billie groaned but put the hat on, unable to keep a straight face. "This is insane."
"And yet, you're doing it," Raven pointed out, her grin smug.
YOU ARE READING
Hostage to you
RomanceBeing around her was meant to be simple, but with her, nothing ever is.
