Codename: WILD

Chapter Four

My happy little pill
Take me away
Dry my eyes
Bring colour to my skies." He averts his eyes from me, training his gaze on a wall in the back of the room.

As he nears the end of the song I begin to tear up a bit. I might know what -and who- all of his songs are about. They're about his days in the field, every last one of them. Even the ones from his new album. They must be about me- or whoever his new boy-toy is.

"Oh, glazed eyes, empty hearts
Buying happy from shopping carts
Nothing but time to kill
Sipping life from bottles
Tight skin, bodyguards
Gucci down the boulevard
Cocaine, dollar bills
And...

My happy little pill
Take me away
Dry my eyes
Bring colour to my skies
My sweet little pill."

He looks to me again, pain evident in his deep, blue eyes. I look away, slightly raising mine and Ethan's intertwined hands. That made Troye angry, he clenched his jaw, glaring at nothing in particular. He walked backstage, coming back a minute later with a water bottle. He easily -almost too easily- unscrews the cap and takes a sip.

It must be drugged. Fuck, I have to move quick. "Ethan, his bottle was tampered with. We have to move quick." I whisper urgently in his ear. Troye looks slightly drowsy as he begins to sing DKLA. It's only a matter of time before he faints- or worse, drops dead. "You go left and distract the two security guards while I go right and sneak backstage."

"Got it." Ethan pushes through the crowd, pulling me along with him. As we near the backstage entrance I release his hand, shimmying along the wall to my right. He holds up a finger, running to the wall opposite me. He throws a shoe he found at a broom and mop that were lying around, causing them to clatter to the floor. The two security guards shouted for us to come out, both walking towards the mess on the floor.

"Anyone here? Show yourself!" The dark skinned man bent over to pick the stuff off the floor.

"It must've fell over by itself, Jordan." The other guard clicked his tongue. And that's when I signaled for Ethan to run. We ran as quietly as we could past the door. We made it backstage, finding six water bottles lined up in a row. I nod to them, signaling that we should check them out.

Troye has a high tolerance to poison, we've had training on consuming little bits so that we don't die immediately after ingesting some. He's had the most training out of anyone.

I grab a bottle, opening it with ease- too much ease. I take a whiff of it, my nose crinkling in displeasure at the pungent chemically smell. "Gargota." I let out a huff of air, emptying it in the trash can.

"Dammit. Troye's gonna be out like a light in less than three minutes!" Ethan slams his fist on a snack table, the sound resonating off the dense walls.

"Watch it, someone might hear us." I peek on the stage, seeing Troye stumble a bit. He manages to finish the song, stumbling backstage before he keels over a few feet away from me. Suddenly, two large men come out of nowhere, each of them aiming a gun at me and Ethan.

I slowly move my hand closer to my back pocket, reaching for my switch blade knife. "What do you want?" I narrow my eyes at the man wielding a gun as if it were a cell phone.

"If I were you, I'd shut the fuck up." He steps closer to me, pressing his pistol against the side of my head as he tightly grips my left bicep. I look to Ethan, raising my eyebrows once. He nods once, the gun pressed to his temple not moving. The man next to me snaps his fingers, shouting something in Russian. Another man comes out of a room, picking Troye off the ground.

"Now!" I shout, stabbing the man holding me in the hand, causing his gun to clatter to the floor. I kick him in the stomach, quickly grabbing the gun off the floor. He shakily gets to his feet, glaring at me with such intensity that it could start a fire.