Stockholm Syndrome

Paparazzi

Noon had come much faster than I had anticipate, but I had learned a lot about the layout and about the house itself. I knew that the dark room where Max had first kept me was one of five rooms that made up the basement. I had tried to open the doors to explore the other rooms downstairs, but unsurprisingly they were locked up tight. I didn't spend much time downstairs, because I only had bad memories, and bruises, from being locked down there, and I knew there wasn't an exit down there. I had my suspicions that Louis was being held here somewhere too, and my first guess had been that he was being held in the basement. I was slightly disappointed to discover that the basement was empty, but I was also somewhat relieved. The fact that Lou wasn't locked down there being beaten...that he was somewhere better, that thought gave me some comfort.

I then began to explore the ground floor and that the mansion had three floors altogether, including the basement. I only had time to search the basement and the first floor before noon, because I still needed to take a shower and get ready.

I yawned as I made my way down the main hall of the first floor toward my room. All of my exploring had been more of a workout than I had thought. I wasn't out of shape, but my body was still trying to recover from Max's punishment. Just when I was beginning to feel better something would happen that pissed off Max and I'd end up with more bruises. My body was struggling to keep up, so I often felt tired and irritable.

I smiled lightly as I opened the door to my room. It wasn't really my room, but I still felt more relaxed here than in any other room. Max seemed to leave me alone when I was in my room too, so that was another reason.

A black bag sitting on the center of my bed immediately caught my attention.

I picked up the bag and sat on my bed looking for a tag or something to explain the bags presence. My brows furrowed as I turned the bag in my hands and found no such explanation. I decided that the reason must not be that important and opened the bag.

The contents where wrapped in white tissue paper, which fell to the floor as I unwrapped the first object. It was a pair of denim skinny jeans. I chuckled as I shook my head in disbelief. Max was trying so hard to ensure that my appearances in public looked normal. I suppose if I wore the same outfit for however long I'd been here that it would be considerably worn. My own had long since been trashed after the car accident. Max didn't want anyone to become suspicious, and if I looked rough people would talk even more about my mysterious disappearance.

I unwrapped the rest of the contents and found a white button down shirt, a pair of black loafers, a silver watch, and a pair of black Oakley sunglasses. The sunglasses where the exact same pair I had back at my apartment... which made my stomach churn. How was it that Max knew my exact size? Or what style of clothes that I liked? It was more than a bit weird to be honest.

I let out a sigh as I stood up and began to undress. I grabbed a towel from the cabinet and walked into the bathroom. I turned on the hot water and let it was away everything both physically and mentally. I focused on the warmth and let myself drift off and not really think about anything. It felt so good to just relax and breathe.

After a few minutes I stepped out and toweled off. I finished getting ready just as there was a knock on my door.

"Niall, Max is ready and waiting for you in the foyer," John's familiar voice called dryly. He never really seemed to like his job, but I don't blame him. Who wanted to be ordered around by Max all day? He must be getting one outrageous paycheck.

"Be there in just a moment!" I replied as I slipped my shoes on tied the laces.

John waited silently outside my door, escorting me down the hall toward Max who was pacing impatiently as he waited for us. The moment we were within hearing distance he called out to us. "It's already 12:10, you're late Horan."