My throat burned a nasty acidic sensation that slid down to my stomach. Music loudly echoed in my ears, laughter and words were barely recognizable to me at this point. My head was buzzing, spinning around from lack of concentration; my fingers curled on a small cup, blinked once, twice, and then again. Snickers and snorts came from either side of me, "D-Dude! L-Look at him...he looks so~o wasted." Brian laughed to himself.
I frowned blinking again as if it would clear the blurriness in my apparition, it didn't. I raised my hand over to my head—grunting, "Yo...Matt...you o~okay, bro?" I felt Chrisander's hand on the nape of my neck before it simply slipped to my shoulder and gave it a pat. We weren't drunk, I mean Brian and Chrisander aren't—I was never good at handling alcohol.
I rubbed my forehead, pushed the glass wrapped around my fingers away from my hand. I felt sick and stayed as still as possible to keep myself from falling over, "No...feel sick." I held back a hiccup, closed my eyes to stop the room from spinning. "Bri~an stop drinking already. Let's get Matty boy out of here, yo! You even listening asshole?"
Chrisander leaned his weight on my shoulder trying to get closer to Brian so he could hear him over the music. It didn't help me at all, my hand covering my mouth and closed my eyes. God, I want to puke. Chrisander moving me wasn't making it any better. "Ye~ah I heard, I heard. Let me finish this...and then we'll go." Brian said in a dismissive tone making Chrisander grunt in annoyance and finally moved his hand away.
"You think you can....hold on for a bit, bro?"
"Ye-Yeah, I think so." I nodded my head cringing my nose from the strong smell of alcohol in my mouth. No matter how I hated it when it stayed on me, made me feel sick, or wake up with a raging migraine I couldn't seem to learn my lesson. The damn bastard patted my shoulder again, a small gargle slipped from my lips.
"Ok~ay, let's go." Brian who sat on my left stood up from the bar stool and lifted my arm placing it on his shoulders. I moved my hand away from my mouth opening my eyes again. Chrisander did the same as Brian, helped me up from my seat. "And up we go. You suck at drinking, dude." He shook his head with a lopsided smile.
I tried not to roll my eyes, all the moving was made me dizzy as hell, tripped over my feet a few times. "I know, don't want to hear that coming from you."
"Our parents are going to be pi~ssed." Brian laughed again like it was so funny to get nagged at for hours for being drunk. We may be eighteen, but our parents hated it when we drank; it's only for the fun. "Ugh. I'm going to throw up." I declared, hunched over slightly pushing through the sweaty bodies that clung to each other however possible.
The music was still blared, people shouted, danced, sweated around with lustful looks as they searched for someone into their beds. Could've sworn I saw some people making out somewhere but everything was so blurry—my head buzzed. "N~o! Don't!" Chrisander exclaimed dramatically, slurred at his words just a bit meaning he was tipsy.
"We're almost out." Brian pulled me closer to what I assume to be the exit of the club, I had to close my eyes when some of the neon lights flashed over my face. This is the last time I'm drinking. I told myself that every time but, in the end, I got dragged into it. Before I knew it, I felt cool air hit my face, breathing in helped settle the sickly sensation that was building up inside me.
I was dragged for a few more moments then heard one of them whistle out probably for a cab. "You think there's going to be a cab out here so late?" Chrisander helped me straighten when Brian broke away and walked towards the road making hand gestures to whatever cab came through here. "There has to be. Those fuckers are out here for money, right? They wouldn't miss this chance to get it."
Fucking douche. Brian was such a selfish asshole sometimes I still wondered why we were friends. Then again, I tolerated him because all three of us grew up together. I was used to him, "Shut up asshole. Call a cab, catching a random ride is dangerous." I suggested, is the only one who had the actual brains to think about our safety. The streets were pretty empty, barely any cars were passing through.
It'd be a miracle if a cab passed through. "Nah, it's fine. See! There's one already," He whistled loudly, ringing in my ears caused my brain to pound into my skull, "Over here!" He waved his hand, a yellow taxi pulled over rolling down the window of the passenger seat.
His eyes were cautious, and I had to force a smile on my face, walk closer then leaned on Chrisander more. "It's just us three. Can you take us?"
He glanced one by one then settled on me again and nodded his head, "Sure, get in."
We all got into the car, groans dropped from my mouth as I rested my buzzing head onto the window. Brian sat between Chrisander and me, giving me the needed space to keep myself from throwing up or passing out. I started to doze off, the movement of the car didn't help the sickness, but I was too drowsy to care. The last thing I heard was the chatter of Brian and Chrisander as I drifted off to sleep.
"-att! Matt!" I was awoken, snapped my eyes open and tried to push them off. Chrisander ruffled my tousled brown hair with that sneer in place, "I told him where to drop you off. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"
I blinked glancing around sort of disorientated and nodded when it dawned on me that I was still in the cab. "Uh, okay. See you tomorrow." I muttered, straightening myself on the seat as he jumped out of the car and waved off.
I heaved a deep sigh, rubbed my head as a pounding headache started to take place; I cursed at myself for not being able to tolerate alcohol. I felt a bit better than earlier, nausea and dizziness were still there but not as bad. "Whoa!" My hand darted to the back of the head seat, the car came to a sharp halt taking me completely by surprise.
My eyebrows furrowed—perplexed and peeked over trying to figure out what the hell was going on. A guy banged against the window of the taxi, the driver rolled down the window and looked nervous. "Get the fuck out of the car." I froze, my heart stilled to a near stop at the thought that he was mugging us. "What?" The driver's voice filled with disbelief.
The guy clicked his tongue, ripping open the car and pointed—what seemed to be a gun—at the driver's face. I covered my mouth, slid down onto the seat being lean enough to fit in the back seat and pulled my knees to my chest. My heart was stricken with fear, hands shook terribly, the alcohol in my system seemed to leave the moment I sobered up. "I said get the fuck out. I'm taking your car."
I closed my eyes shut and heard shuffling and movement, "Pl-Please...don't kill me. Th-" The driver was cut off by the loud, piercing cracks of what I assumed to be gunshots.
I jolted, every hair in my body stood replaying the sound of those gunshots and what made me even more scared was when a thud came afterward. I pushed myself closer, breathing shakily; I felt light-headed—head spun as a bile threatened to rise to my throat. "Fuck!" The guy cursed, jumped into the car slamming the door shut.
The car then jerked forward at rapid speed, shit I'm going to throw up. I held back as much as I could think about anything else that didn't tense me up so badly or had my heart almost thrashed out of my chest. I was scared shitless, I took a moment to calm myself and pulled out my phone. I lowered the brightness and pulled down the button on the side to have it on vibration.
I instantly started to dial the police until I heard a click, "Don't think I didn't see you. Give me your phone." His cold and hard tone had me motionless, my gaze landed on a gun pointing right at my face. I swallowed thickly, reached over for him to take and felt it leave my hand. I'm going to die. The thought itself mortified me.
I didn't want to die.
I never should have gone out drinking. I shouldn't have let that selfish asshole take a random taxi.
"Lay on the seats and keep your head down." I did exactly what he said, too afraid that he would shoot me if I didn't. My head pressed onto the leather seats and covered my face; if I were to see his face I'll be screwed. He won't let me go if I look at him. I closed my eyes despite how terribly shaken I was by the man holding a gun.
My throat was sore and dry, made it difficult every time I swallowed as a groan slipped from my lips. I breathed in, furrowed my eyebrows from a raging headache that came with vengeance. I rose my hand, placed it on my forehead rubbing it as if it'll help at all. I slowly opened my eyes, it felt so heavy and found myself struggling until I stared at an unfamiliar ceiling.
The frown deepened, blinked a few times but the hangover wasn't making it easy. I moved my other hand hearing a clank, I slowly moved my head trying to see what was restricting my movements and my eyes widened. I nearly shot off whatever I was laying on if it wasn't for my mind pounding and rattling against my skull. "What?" My breathing hitched at the handcuffs, my eyes darted around which only seemed to scare me further when I realized I wasn't in my room.
I was on a bed, handcuffed to the headboard and I seemed to be in some kind of loft. It was small like a studio; the large windows were behind the bed I was laying on making the living room bright. The kitchen was right in front of me with a table of two chairs between the distance of the kitchen and the bed. There were stairs on the left side of the kitchen leading to a second floor or something.
It was empty.
I turned my head back to my hand tugging at the handcuffs, I bit my quivering lip. My body was starting to shake, anxiety bubbling in my chest as my breathing grew uneven. I tugged harder nearly winced from the mark it was leaving on my skim. It was pretty tight. I stopped, closed my eyes and rubbed my aching head as I struggled to breathe properly.
At the sound of a door opening, I jumped in astonishment, eyes snapped to a door on the opposite side of the stairs. The door was as white as the walls, made it easy to miss for anyone here for the first time in their life. A pair of honey brown eyes gazed back at me, dark locks of hair framing his face as he held a bag and a tray of...coffee?
He closed the door, locking it behind him as he sighed, "You're awake. Your head must hurt for drinking last night."
I blinked in confusion, last night? What? What happened last night? I don't remember anything from last night. He stayed in place scrutinized the look on my face and rolled his eyes in annoyance walking to the table. "Of course, you don't remember. Long story short, I kidnapped you after stealing a taxi driver's car." He was nonchalant like he was talking about how bad the weather was today.
To say I was shocked was an understatement. Memories flooded through my head, blue eyes wide in realization, "Y-You...You shot him." I whispered, stunned into a daze of what had happened. He placed the bags and the tray onto the wooden table, the first thing he did was take one out of the two coffee from the tray.
He snorted humorlessly, strolled towards me and I backed against the bed cautiously, "I didn't shoot him, some other guy did. Even though it was sort of my fault," The closer he got the more I got a good look at him; he looked the same age as me. How can a guy do this kind of thing and still be so young? "Here. Just so you know I'm not in the mood to listen to you beg me to let you go and all the bullshit along with it. You try to escape I will shoot you, you try anything funny I will shoot you, and if you say anything that pisses me off I'll shoot you."
I flinched, his honey brown eyes were glaring, warned me to try and do exactly what I had in mind to do. I took the coffee from his hand, biting my tongue as to not say anything that will get a bullet in my skull. I stared at the coffee, hesitant; it felt like a terrible dream that I was desperate to wake up from. "Drink, It's just coffee." My gaze flicked to the guy still standing in front of me, inspecting me.
I brought the cup to my lips and drank; I stared at it, swallowed the sweet, creamy caffeine. "Good, right?" He nodded his head towards the coffee and I gave an approving shake of my head, pursing my lips. Nothing was making sense to me, he could've just dropped me somewhere but instead, he had me here. As his hostage. Chained to a bed.
The voice of my mother telling me to be careful in the streets came from the back of my mind. The constant news of people going missing or killed came afterward and it left me depressed. I never thought something like this would happen to me. I wonder if it was like that for them when suddenly danger and death barged into their lives in a blink of an eye. I jumped when he suddenly sat down on the bed near my legs and I curled them back to give him more space.
I held the coffee slowly drinking from it and strangely enough, my headache started to sooth. "I put some painkillers in it," I was filled with dread, the coffee still in my mouth as I had the urge to spit it on his face. My eyes glared at him, I'm so stupid for believing that it was only coffee. What if he had put something weird on it?
His eyes gleamed in amusement, "If I tried giving you a pill you would have thought it was something else. People are stubborn when they're held against their will."
I swallowed the coffee with a frown, "Can you blame me?" I answered sharply, bit my tongue right after and cursed from the back of my head for not controlling myself. I really didn't want to get shot. His lips etched onto a smirk that was starting to annoy me, "Feisty, aren't you? It's a good thing I kept you, you wouldn't have lasted long if they got their hands on you."
I perked up, gazed at him questionably; what the hell did he just say? I blinked at the dark-haired guy, still smirking as he stood back up. I continued to drink the coffee since it was far too good to let it go to waste. "I'm only telling you this much since you're already in this mess because of me. Those guys who shot the taxi driver are after me and since you happen to be in the car—which they don't know that, you'll have to stay with me. I don't like dragging innocent bystanders into this mess but since there is no way out I'm basically kidnapping you until this mess settles down." He walked to the table picking up another coffee from the tray and opened it.
I was gaping in shock, completely disbelieved as I sat up on the bed. My feet on the ground, "You can't do that! You said it yourself they don't know I was there and they are after you, not me!" I lost my composure, my heart whipped against my chest as the coffee fell from my hand onto the ground. It spilled throughout the floor, but I didn't pay it any mind, my breathing was growing uneven and I know if I didn't calm down I'd get an asthma attack.
He glared coldly, putting down his coffee and pressed his lips together when he gazed at the mess. "Fuck, you're so noisy. If I couldn't do that then you wouldn't be here handcuffed to a bed—and don't be stupid. They are after me which means if I had let you go they would have known one way or another. Find you, torture you and your family, if they didn't get what they wanted you'd be dead."
He ran his hand through his hair and turned around walking to the kitchen to find something to clean the floor with. There was a knot in my throat threatening me that I was on the verge of crying and it took everything I had not to let it out. It was pathetic for a guy to cry but I was basically pampered; I had never felt such fear in my life, I've never been so afraid for being in a place with a person I didn't know.
I had no idea what to do, everything was far from my reach and I'm sure he located the bed here for that very intention. At the same time, he was right, I would have put my family in danger but that didn't mean he had to rip me away from the people I cared about. I couldn't stop thinking what he could do to me and then I started thinking what could he possibly do to protect me.
The guy was scary enough as it was, the cold glares and the tone of his voice that changed like he considered my existence a nuisance was unsettling. "You get it now? So, don't try anything, I'll shoot you if I have to, but I rather avoid that. It'll mean that moving around will be slow as it is."
My head was hurting, I didn't want to go with him, I wanted to go back home and forget this ever happened. I stayed silent having nothing to say when he said, 'moving around'. I had to take the chance—my only chance of getting away was when we move. I wasn't sure how we were traveling but I'll figure something out.
He stood up with the plastic cup of coffee I had dropped and a dirty rag on his other hand. He looked annoyed when he glanced at me, "I brought food too and do me a favor, don't drop it or I'll shove it down your throat." A shiver ran down my spine, cringed at the image of it; he looked like he would really do it even if it was accidental or not.
I kept myself in my corner taking what he gave me and stayed as silent as possible. There had to be something, there had to be a way for me to go back home. "What's your name?" He asked in a softer voice passing me a plastic fork.
I hesitated, "M-Matt." My voice barely audible, blue eyes stared onto the white foam takeout container. The handcuffs didn't allow me to move my hand too much, so it was kind of hard shifting to sit up and using one hand to open it. I was chewing on my lower lip with furrowed eyebrows as I tore onto the lid, popped open seconds later.
I was so focused on how I was going to eat this with only one hand in reach I didn't realize the guy in front of me hasn't said anything. My gaze adverted to him, anticipating; his honey brown eyes were locked on my own, understanding what I wanted him to do. He was mildly amused, "Give me a good reason why I should undo the handcuffs." He crossed his arms, lips curled into a meticulous smirk.
I glared, he couldn't be serious. I was the victim here, I didn't know how to fight or how to use a gun. I should've taken karate lessons like my younger sister, "You'll shoot me before I can get to the door, I'm not taking any chances." It was true; I wouldn't be able to reach the door unless I wanted to get shot halfway. I may not know how to fight or use a gun, but I could run fast as hell; it wasn't long since I was on the track team in high school.
He hummed lightly, appeared pleased with my response and uncrossed his arms fishing through his pocket. "Good point, you're learning," He was talking to me like I was some kind of kid with ADHD or a fucking dog. I heard keys hitting each other as he pulled it out of his pocket picking one out of the rest. My gaze followed his movements, "This is a safe place until I can make a proper plan. We should be leaving by tonight and don't do anything that can get you shot."
I wanted to say so many things at the moment I had to hold my tongue between my teeth to swallow my words. His eyes studied me, the handcuff snapped open allowing me to move more freely. I tried ignoring him as I rubbed the marks on my wrist, shifting a bit. "Can I ask you something?" My eyes followed him as he walked to the table where his coffee and a white foam takeout container was.
He barely spared me a glance, "Sure but don't be disappointed if I don't answer."
I pursed my lips stretching my legs out on the bed and hands on the takeout container holding the plastic fork. "How old are you?" I was curious about it, it was killing me because he looked as young as me but acts like he's older. A wry laugh drops from his mouth, "You know, being curious can get you in trouble. So, I'll spare both of us the pain—my name is Neil and I'm nineteen."
I nodded slowly, surprised that he was actually a year older than me; it didn't matter because I was only trying to be smart. I needed to get out of here and tonight would be the only chance I'd get; maybe I could convince him to let me go if we talked long enough. My parents must be worried about me, my siblings too; I shouldn't have gone out drinking. I felt awful knowing that the last time I saw her was when she was preparing dinner.
Then we fought because I was drinking again, she didn't like it. She didn't want me to kill myself with it in the future, but I just shook it off because it was only to celebrate. Me and my stupidity.
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