Faceclaim (ONC 2022, Completed, Shortlisted)

3: Read This

The room seemed to close in on Daniel, restricting the air to his lungs. He needed to breathe.

Windows! Of course, the room had windows! Through them, Daniel could let air in. He would be able to breathe and think again.

The openings to the outside were currently hidden behind heavy curtains, which made darkness fall over the room. But as soon as he'd pulled those curtains away, sunlight and freedom would once again shine upon him.

In a flurry of motions, where his limbs--still affected by the beer, and perhaps whatever had been injected into his arm--didn't move as fast as his brain, Daniel made it to his feet and rushed toward the curtains to reveal the world outside. Perhaps he would even be able to escape that way. A fire ladder or balcony could lead him away from this puzzling situation.

This would soon just be a mere blimp in his story. A laughable anecdote told to reporters during the promos for his latest movie. A charming tale of how famous actor Daniel Shephard in hung-over confusion had climbed like a monkey on the facade of a hotel after the door had jammed. He would tell it with a winning smile and a coy flip of his hair.

He ripped open the curtain, prepared to bask in gleaming sunlight. It would hit his hair and make it sparkle like gold.

But nothing sparkled or gleamed because there was nothing under the curtains. Only more wall. White paint strokes were put on in uneven layers, which protruded in bumps under his fingers.

"Fuck!" Daniel punched his fist into the wall. His knuckles frayed from the effort and left a trail of red across the white facade. He pulled the curtains back to cover the blood.

"Fuck.." he repeated, pounding much less vigorously against the velvety curtain. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..." his voice disappeared into a whimper and he slumped against the wall.

What the hell was going on? His foggy brain couldn't put the clues together, although perhaps a clear brain wouldn't have been able to either.

All he wanted was to get out of this room. He couldn't be here. He needed to get to London. His flight was due tomorrow afternoon and he was supposed to meet his agent to sign the film contract the day after. This was not the time for hold-ups and complications.

If he didn't sign that contract, then he wouldn't be Captain Universe. The best opportunity he'd ever had to actually make something of himself would slip through his fingers. His chance to make the kids in his school--who had taunted the small ginger boy with big acting dreams--finally choke on their laughter would vanish.

A sound from outside the door alerted Daniel. Feet shuffled over the carpet. Someone was out there.

Daniel wasted no time. In a speed that probably watched Usain Bolt at his prime, he ran back toward the door.

"Help!" he called out, banging his palm on the door. His already banged-up knuckles hurt but he didn't care. He could patch those up once he was out of here. "I'm locked in here!"

No one responded. But he could sense the presence of someone. A shade that slightly obscured the light under the door. The door didn't have a peephole--which was unusual for a hotel door Daniel noted, perhaps this wasn't a hotel at all?--so he couldn't peek outside. But he was certain someone was there. So certain he would have sworn it on his niece's name.

"What the fuck is this fuckery!" he yelled, arms draped across the barrier that kept him from strangling the person on the other side. "Let me fucking outta here! I know you're fucking out there!"

Daniel did like the word "fuck". And really, there was no better word to describe this fucking situation.

"Fucking cunt!" he added for emphasis in a thick Scottish accent. His country of origin always appeared more notably in his voice when he was upset.

Still no reply. At least not in vocal form. But as Daniel rested his foreheads on his arms--cursing his misery--he noticed something white that stuck out under the door.

Immediately, he bent down to investigate. It looked like paper. Daniel pulled on the item to get it inside the room

It was indeed paper. A stack of them even, with a yellow post-it note on top. "Read me" it urged Daniel in big blocky letters.

This called for another cavalcade of his favorite swear words. "What kinda bloody bollocks is this? Why do you want me to fucking read, you bellend? This isn't a fucking vacation! You've fucking kidnapped me!"

He'd stopped expecting a reply, but he still wanted to put his point across.

"Fucker..." he concluded and peeled the yellow note off the stack of papers to reveal a title underneath.

"The Bastard Prince and the Fairy Queen" was printed atop. A story it seemed but no author name accompanied the title.

Perhaps the thick compendium of papers would contain a clue to what had happened to him. So Daniel sat down on the bed and started to flip through the pages.

And right there, on the first page, he saw himself.

"Faceclaims" the chapter read. Daniel knew this was a common term for actors that had been fantasy cast to appear in a story. Sometimes his fans--which weren't numerable but still existed--tweeted him links to fanfictions they've written that starred him. He never thought much of it as it wasn't like such castings affected him in any way. If someone wanted to borrow his pretty face for a story, they could go ahead.

Now, someone seemed to have gone a step further. Because right under the title was a picture of himself, clad in Viking garb as he played Björn the Bear Slayer in Blood Diaries. But this time, Daniel wasn't cast as a madman sustaining himself on bear blood for a thousand years, after being abandoned by his crew on the frozen coast of Greenland.

"Prince Ramon, also known as the Bastard Prince, is played by Daniel Shephard" the writing underneath the image read.

Prince Ramon... he'd heard that name before.

Author's Note: Yes, I also want to watch the show with Björn the Bear Slayer (and I do know that Björn means Bear... it's kind of a nod to how badly some shows research the languages featured in them).

And I maybe need to put this story as Mature, considering that every other word Daniel says seems to be a curse word. I didn't know he was such a potty mouth when I started writing!