Disclaimer: This was written over 10 years ago, and the author no longer agrees with many of the concepts found in this story. Some of the content will be cringey and/or problematic. Please remember this is entirely fictional and does not represent the author's beliefs.
Twitter: dazzleizzy
Copyright © 2012-2023
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Niall's POV
"Okay, so next up is another duet, but this time, one of them is one of Master Zayn's old friends who wanted give this sing-off a shot, just for the heck of it. I give you, Harry, and Elle!" I lie into the microphone, and then make my way off stage again. If I hadn't said that, there would be a rise on suspicion from the guests that Harry was in fact not a slave Owner, but a slave himself.
The curtains pull away from behind me, revealing a brightly dressed Elle contrasting with the dark dress pants and blazers of Harry.
Just as the music begins to play and I step onto the leveled ground off the stage, I look up to see someone entering the ballroom. It's like the entire atmosphere of the room has changed at his entrance, everything gravitating towards the tall man. If it wasn't for Harry and Elle performing, the entire audience's attention would be on this very man.
He had a lean build, and he was clad in a pitch black dress suit. His shoes were polished, and he wore a wristwatch that gleamed under the lights.
But what was really unsettling, is that he looked extremely familiar, as if I'd seen him before, even though I was sure I hadn't. He couldn't be much older than me.
While everything about him was formal and precise, his hair contrasted his entire look. Instead of being well-kept and gelled back, jet black hair fell on his forehead in a disarray, messy.
He looked so similar to someone, but I couldn't just quite put my hand on it. But I had the feeling I found who I was looking for.
"Sir?" I approached him slowly. His eyes snapped up, and I took notice that they were a piercing gray color. How odd. "You must be...Caleb?"
An eyebrow raises, and he nods.
"Master Zayn's waiting for you. Follow me, please." His eyes widen slightly at the mention of Master's name, but he doesn't say anything. As I lead him outside of the ballroom and into the small conference room, he remains silent, and I find myself wishing he'd say something because this silence was quite awkward.
I open the door, and let him inside. Flicking on the lights, I motion to an empty seat for him to sit down. "You can take a seat, I'll go get him right now."
He nods again, not saying anything, so I leave the room and head out to get Master Zayn.
--
"Sir," I whisper, placing a hand on his shoulder, "I found Caleb. He's waiting for you in the conference room."
Master Zayn immediately gets up, giving me a curt nod in dismissal before he heads out of the ballroom to the conference room.
--
I make my way back to the stage after Harry and Elle receive a round of applause for their performance, thanking them for being wonderfully good even though I didn't listen because I was too occupied with getting Caleb to the conference room. "Our next group will be Amber and Louis! Good luck!"
Once again, I hop off the stage and let them start to perform, this time, my eyes are on Amber the entirety of her performance as she and Louis perform a sultry version of Toxic.
--
Abby's POV
When I finally take a seat back in the audience in front of the stage, I'm slightly tipsy, but so is Perrie. We'd both downed a couple shots, and all I can say is that they helped a lot with the anxious feeling that I wouldn't move on to the next level.
I guess it was a stupid idea, because I can feel the alcohol in my blood, but I need to be able to concentrate and be okay so that I can perform if I move onto the next round.
Niall's face is flushed as he announces what is to happen next, after he just finished performing. There would be a fifteen minute voting period, and then the names that move on to the next round will be announced. There were ballots in the back, ready to be used to vote with.
I head back to the bar to get some water - I really needed to sober up, quick. I press my palm to my forehead, wiping off the sweat that had accumulated there.
There was talking and discussion among the slaves and guests, pondering over who they were going to vote for. Some had already started making their way to the tables where the ballots were.
As the line to vote grew, so did my anxiety. I had a horrible habit of biting my nails when I was nervous, so I struggled to pull my hand away from my mouth to stop myself.
There was only a fifteen minute break period as Niall had stated, and now that had dropped to exactly thirteen minutes.
I check the time, which was displayed on the wall in red digital numbers.
These were definitely the longest fifteen, scratch that, thirteen minutes of my life.
I bit down on my nails again.
--
Perrie's POV
I look across the ballroom at Abby again - she's at the bar, downing a glass of water. Her eyes are trained on the voting tables in the back, and I can't help but look back at them too.
There were a total of sixteen contestants - eight duets. Of the sixteen people, only four will go onto the next round. That gives each of us a one in a sixteenth chance of moving on, and it'd be fair to say that the odds were not in my favor. I can only hope that the crowd liked me enough to let me move on to the next round.
"You okay?" Harry shuffles beside me, taking a sip from his fluke of pink champagne after handing me one. I thank him, and then nod.
"Just thinking."
"About?"
"About how possible it is for me to win. I think I know exactly what I want to wish for, now." I say truthfully. That's the thing about the forest-green eyed man that stood beside me - you could tell him anything, and he wouldn't tell a soul. That was how Harry was.
"And that is?" He asks, curious. "If you don't mind - I don't want to seem nosy." He begins to apologize, but I cut him off by raising my hand.
"Don't worry about it." I smile. "I was just thinking...I think I've had enough time here in this mansion, trapped to please...Zayn..." I say through my teeth, "and dealing with unrequited love. It's tough, you know?"
He nods.
I don't want to get into more detail about how I feel - Harry was a guy, and guys don't deal well with overly emotional females, They just don't. So instead, I tell him about what I want.
"So I decided, that I want to ask to leave here, forever." I blurt.
The next thing I new, Harry spit out his drink, choking on it. I'm horrified by his reaction, so I smack him on the back gently in attempt to dislodge the fluid that had traveled down his windpipe instead of down to his stomach.
He coughs again, and then scratches his nose. His eyes are watery from choking, and his face is a flushed red color. Once he cleared his throat, he takes another long drink from the glass, completely downing the alcohol.
"Was my wish that bad?" I ask.
He shakes his head, and gives me a strained smile. "No. You just caught me off guard, that's all." He explains, his eyes avoiding mine.
I shake the feeling that he's hiding something from me, and check the time.
God damn, seven more long ass minutes.
--
Zayn's POV
I push open the door of the conference room, and take in a deep breath.
He's sitting in one of the chairs around the long conference table, one hand used to navigate his cellular device, the other's fingers drumming on the table, impatient. He looks up, and gives me a small smile. "Zayn," he breathes, his familiar gray eyes lighting up, "you're finally here."
"I should be the one telling you that, since, you know, this is my mansion." I say jokingly, and his smile turns up into a full grin.
"Yeah, whatever." He rolls his eyes, and I pull out a chair for me to sit down. "Show-off." He mutters.
"So, have you been able to finalize the plan?" I ignore his comment and get straight to the point, and he doesn't seem surprised. He knows me too well- I don't beat around the bushes.
He exhales, dropping and then shaking his head. "About that..."
I raise my eyebrows. "Well?"
"We have a lot to discuss. I think we should wait until this party thing is over with. And you should probably be completely sober for it."
"I am sober!" I defend immediately.
"You haven't had any drinks, whatsoever?" His voice is skeptical.
I roll my eyes. "A fluke of champagne does not make a person drunk."
Now he rolls his eyes, a habit he's surely picked up from me a long time ago. "But it does make a person more daring to take risks, risks that aren't necessary and could ruin everything. You've waited forever to do this. You can't wait another day?"
"No."
"Always the impatient one, aren't you?"
I find myself getting defensive once again. "I am not. I just want revenge."
"Yeah, yeah you are." He chuckles, leaning back in his chair, and kicking his feet up on the table.
"Fuck you." I spit, pushing his feet off the conference table. "Get your feet off that, it's mahogany."
That only makes him laugh harder, and I find myself struggling to supress a laugh through my annoyance with him. "Whatever you say, Zeus." He teases.
"Zeus? What is this, a new nickname or something?"
He laughs again, giving me a menacing smile. "Would you rather me call you Zoozoo?"
"Stop." I growl, trying to cover up the laugh underneath. "It's not funny. That nickname is fucking stupid."
His finger jabs my cheek playfully, and he gives me the goofiest smile. "Whatever you say, Zoozoo."
I punch him in the arm, and he winces but then continues to laugh. And then I'm laughing, laughing hard along with the man who resembled me so much.
I finally shake my head when we've calmed down a bit, and I lock my arms behind my head and sigh.
He copies my position, mocking me with his familiar gray eyes.
I shoot him a glare, but he ignores it. "It's been a long time, Zayn." He admits.
I raise an eyebrow, but lean back in my chair, more relaxed now. "It really has been quite a while since we last saw each other, little brother."
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