A deranged man who likes to call himself the Director kidnaps a teenage boy and girl to be his actors. He expects them to perform the six acts of his play without messing up once, or else harrowing pain awaits them.
🥇1st place / The Cosmic Awards
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ANY MINUTE NOW. Any minute now and the Director should open the door.
Nathan had been confident about his memorizing skills but suddenly he doubted everything. Suddenly, if he closed his eyes, he felt like he couldn't conjure a single word of the script.
Just the stress, he reminded himself and leant the back of his head against the wall, one leg stretched and the other knee curved up.
"I hope you're done with everything, my actors," the Director finally announced, "because give me a few minutes and I'll open the door."
Nathan's heartbeat spiked once then stopped altogether. Beside him, and just like him, Adelaide was a breathing (but prepped) chaos.
Letting out a shaky breath, Nathan forced himself to his feet, expecting Adelaide to stand as well. But she remained folded on the floor, eyes on the script. The papers wrinkled where her fingers gripped.
"We've been memorizing for around two and a half hours. Now you're only stressing yourself," Nathan said, dangling a hand down to help her up.
Adelaide ignored it—his poised fingers, or his offer, or him altogether. Then she slowly pulled herself up, palm trembling against the wall, until she stood beside him.
"W-We can do this," Adelaide said. Words couldn't fool Nathan but he could fool her. He could pretend he agreed, pretend he wasn't crying inside, yearning for past days already. (Not that he'd admit all that, because the standardized equation stated that rich kids plus nagging equaled spoiled brats.) "Right? We memorized a lot. We have to do this."
Nathan just nodded. It was the worst time for his imagination but right now all he could think of was the shotgun's barrel. Desperately wanting the image to disintegrate, he shook his head to himself like a lunatic.
"Nathan?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think somebody's gonna be watching us? An audience?"
The question dragged behind an entirely different horizon into Nathan's head. Eyes suddenly wide, he quickly turned to face Adelaide. "I don't know," he said, "but if there is, don't stop acting to scream for help. Please. I'm pretty sure he won't make it that easy for us."
Adelaide's expression faltered. Turned sour. As if she was saying: you think I'd do something stupid like that, jackass? But then she nodded, perhaps half-aware that she'd really do that.
