New York- Where Dreams are Made

Chapter 101- Someone Answers

I never realized how small this room was.

How long have I been here?

Will I ever get out?

I wished I could reach out to someone.

I wish I could mentally tell Addie to stop looking.

I wish I could tell her about Jon.

I also wish I knew where the hell I was.

........

Darren's POV

(Because why not?)

"Addie?"

She hung up.

I stared hatefully at myself in the mirror. I stared at the hideous thing I have become.

My hair was tangled and oily, my eyes were glossy and dark, my face was pale, and my eyebrows formed a scowl on my face.

Where are you Charlotte?

I glanced over at Charlotte's Hamilton calendar.

Three days.

No Charlotte.

I should have gone with her.

Where did she even go?

What if she's hurt?

Or worse?

I shake my head, clearing terrible sights.

I pick up my phone and dial her number one more time.

It rings exactly five times. Someone answers.

Someone answers.

Someone answers.

........

Back to Charlotte.

I can hear muffled talking outside my room.

I know it's Jon.

Who he's talking to I have no clue.

After a minute he stops speaking.

The door creaks open, allowing bits of light to shine through.

"That was your husband."

I tense up.

"What did he say?"

He laughed.

"He didn't say a word. He won't know it's me. He can't track the call either. Even if the cops find this place, they can't find this room."

I stare at my shoes, they are caked in dirt from the gross floor.

"Looks like you're still going to be my guest for a while."

He talked to D.

He's ok.

For right now.

He has his hands behind his back again.

I stare at them.

"Oh! I almost forgot!"

He removes his hands from their cover.

In each hand, he holds a pistol. They look exactly the same. They are old models. They are the ones Leslie and D use in the show.

"You see these?"

He pushes them closer to me.

"These are pistols."

I remain silent.

"One has dead show bullets."

He holds one up to his face.

"The other has real killing bullets."

He holds the other one in my face.

"Would you like to know the difference?"

He smiles and takes the gun away from my face.

"One can do this..."

He aims his pistol in the air and shoots it.

A loud boom echoes through the room. Smoke flies around us, making me cough.

"Look up."

There is a small hole in the ceiling.

Where in New York are we that nobody can hear that?

He smiles and blows on the smoking end of the gun.

"Your move."