No Pills

Shush; Candy

*Charlie's P.O.V*

Leo and I have a plan. We'll be good. We'll go to school and come home and rest well. I'll learn with Mia. He'll prepare for our trip.

The plan goes well until I destroy it Friday afternoon. Immediately the school bell rings, I head to a station. Igor's birthday is at a hotel.

Upon reaching the hotel's lobby, I eject my innovation card, only to be told I have the wrong venue. I step out, frustrated.

"Sssss!!" Then I hear someone hiss after me. Turning quickly, my eyes lock with a bodyguard in formal all-black. He doesn't say anything to me; he takes my invitation card and tears it to pieces. I pretend not to be irritable because he looks like the bodyguards from the club. Perhaps he knows the right way. He motions to my plain clothes, and I shrug.

Shaking his head as if I'll regret not dressing 'sexy', the bodyguard leads me. I stay close despite his rushed gait. We end up in a small car that gets us to what looks like a hangar. Seeing two actual aeroplanes, I gasp.

The bodyguard opens my door for me. I run alongside him into one of the planes. A flight attendant tries to take my bag, but I decline. Fortunately, the bodyguard is in the cockpit at this moment. The plane is first class, so I try my best not to touch anything besides the seat I'm given.

An hour later, the plane takes off. I feel nauseous.

Where are they even taking me?

I refuse to eat, drink, or sleep. When we land, the bodyguard blindfolds and ties me up. The cool night air blows my hair as I am pushed around and into who knows what. Hearing a padlock and touching the metal ground, I reckon I'm in a container. Motion begins. In over an hour, it stops, and the breeze returns. There is more pushing and, soon, talking.

My ears catch on to a won't or two: something about prostitutes, packages, and a ground floor. Then someone says, "... Top floor. Are you sure you speak English?... No... No, the next house."

So as they -whoever they are - drag me into an elevator, I quell fear with this scanty knowledge of my location. A click sounds, and we start moving again. Slow music mingled with some weird - Screaming? Moaning? - sounds rise in the background.

I want my earmuffs. Now!

"No, I said next house! He is not part of the batch." The same speaker says.

"He what?" I hear a Russian accent this time.

"Oh!" The initial speaker grabs my shoulders. "He is for Igor!"

"Ooooh," the latter hoots.

Then, I feel several hands exchange me like I'm some present. The music is replaced by elevator noise. They are sending me down.

At this point, I have given up on figuring out my location. I shut everything out.

When they release me, I find myself all alone in a bedroom. I exhale. It takes my eyes some rubbing to adjust to new surroundings, after which I look out the window at a beach shore -

"I asked you to wear something sexy."

I jump. Igor's gaze is on me, listless.

Oh God! Oh God! Oh-

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Author's note: trigger warning. You can skip to the following author's note still in this chapter if you don't want to read anything associated with s.a.

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"Aren't you done crying?!"

"Hey, boy! Stop it!"