Faceclaim (ONC 2022, Completed, Shortlisted)

5: Showtime

With a chips bag perched between his legs and a can of soda balancing precariously in a nest of blankets, Daniel went on adventures with the ridiculously perfect and handsome Prince Ramon--who somehow seemed unaware of the effect he had on other people and kept bemoaning his enviable qualities. He'd found the food in the cupboard opposite of the bed, which was concerningly stocked with dry goods of all kinds. There even was a fridge filled with his favorite soda--tropical fruits-flavored Fanta. If only he'd had some vodka to mix it with.

Thanks to some aspirin--found in the bathroom drawer--his beer-induced headache had subsided. And the salt and sugar from the chips and soda seemed to reenergize his body. So naturally, he once again had an urge to drink.

Really, who wouldn't want to turn to the bottle in this situation?

Because while Daniel appreciated the commodities in the room, the presence of them was also concerning. Clearly, someone had gone to great lengths to set this up, and judging by the quantities of food, they intended to keep him for a while. And the fact that the items seemed chosen particularly for him indicated that this hadn't been a spur-of-the-moment idea.

The author must have planned to abduct Daniel for quite a while.

Perhaps they had watched him. Perhaps they had stalked him. Perhaps they had even talked to him. Just a passing stranger on the street, asking for directions or what time it was. He wouldn't have thought anything of it. Daniel was a helpful guy after all.

Static noise from the walkie-talkie almost made Daniel choke on his chips. Still coughing, he grabbed the device from the bedside table. "What?" he asked, a bit too aggressively for someone being held captive. His temper ran a bit too high for this kind of situation.

"It's showtime," the author replied, with pizzazz on their voice.

"What does that mean?" Daniel grunted, with no pizzazz whatsoever.

"It means you need to get in character." The words were said like this should be an obvious conclusion. "Look in the top drawer of the dresser."

With another grunt, Daniel jumped off the bed and crouched by the dresser. He pulled out the drawer to reveal an assortment of clothing items. As he held up burlap pants that were too short on his tall frame and a white shirt where only two buttons remained, he instantly recognized what they were.

"You want me to dress up like Prince Ramon?" Daniel sighed. He'd worn his fair share of ridiculous costumes for different movies and TV shows--the tortuously warm bear costume came to mind--but this was neither of those things. This was madness.

"I want you to be Prince Ramon," the reply came.

Daniel glanced at his own image in the mirror above the dresser. "You do know I'm a redhead?" he asked, flicking his hand through golden curls. His sister sometimes teased him that those curls were the key to his success. The expression "cherubic baby angel" had been thrown around during their sibling banter. "From what I remember, Prince Ramon has dark hair. I mean his name is fucking Ramon Ortega. He certainly sounds Hispanic rather than Scottish..."

Clearly, Daniel had been wrongfully cast for this part.

"Look further into the drawer," the author replied ominously.

Daniel stuck his hand in behind the clothing items and pulled out a square box. Among glossy purple, a woman with dark curls smiled on the box.

"Hair dye... are you fucking kidding me?" Daniel couldn't contain his annoyance. Asking him to read some lines was one thing but asking him to alter his appearance--his smoking hot appearance that had made his career, at least if Tina was right--was a whole other matter. "I won't do this."

"Well, then I guess you'll be stuck here forever, Daniel," the author replied, in a much less playful tone than earlier. There was a dark edge to their voice as they threatened him. "I guess the food might last you a week or so, but not much longer. And no one will ever find you here. Your sister won't ever know what happened to you."

Daniel swallowed and looked at the box. "Lasts for up to twelve weeks," the fine print said. He could probably survive twelve weeks without his angelic curls.

"Your niece will always wonder where her uncle went," the voice on the walkie-talkie continued, their tone spiked with glee. "Willa might not even remember you at all."

Daniel picked up the box.. "I'll do it," he said.

"Good boy," the author replied. "I knew I did the right thing casting you."

Daniel did not agree. Not at all. Although he didn't wish this part on anyone else either.

And as he walked toward the bathroom with the hair dye box in his hand, a newfound realization created ripples in his mind.

The author knew about Willa and Tina. Perhaps he'd mentioned them in an interview at some point, although he was usually mum about his personal life. He'd only revealed he was gay because news outlets kept making love connections between him and his female co-stars and he became tired of it. In a way, it was almost a brag, like "I'm such a good actor I can make the chemistry seem real despite not being remotely attracted to my co-star."

Regardless of how they knew, it wasn't just about him now. This was about his family. And Daniel Shephard might be a booze-pickled casanova actor with a fondness for cursing, but no one could ever say that he didn't care about his family.

So with raven-colored curls--which didn't mesh with his pale complexion or light blue eyes at all-- a shirt that didn't close and too-short pants, Daniel walked out of the bathroom about thirty minutes later. He'd probably managed to dye his ears in the process as well, as he wasn't accustomed to the delicate process of altering one's hair.

"Let's do this," he grunted into the walkie-talkie, with feigned enthusiasm that couldn't quite hide his hostility. This was stupid. But he would do it. For his family.

"Let's do this," the voice on the other line repeated.

A moment later, the door to the room slowly opened, as if it was controlled remotely. Probably because it was.

Outside was a blinding light. Daniel recognized the sheen of it. It was the alluring glow of fame and fortune.

He stepped out into the light, and onto a stage.

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