The Summer I Really Didn't Kidnap Lance Hardwood || ONC2024

Take 5 - Plan B, Revealed

When James mentioned that Santa Clarita and CalArts were less than ninety minutes away AND on one of the ways to Vegas, which was also on the way to one of Mom's mystery spots, it didn't take much to convince Lance to let me at least stop by the campus and reschedule my tour and meetings.

As we walked through the campus, several students pointed at Lance and whispered to each other. One group we passed began to take a snapshot, but Lance grabbed me, ran towards the theatre building and pulled me into the shadows. I asked him what the hell was going on – wasn't he used to being recognized, asked for his autograph, being the center of attention...and then I understood. He saw comprehension dawn on my face.

"Yeah. It's likely that those girls got off with a warning and some really stiff fines for assault with a deadly weapon, disturbing the peace, and attacking Joy."

"I hope she's okay!" I remembered the pain that she'd bravely born without complaint. Well, not a lot of complaints. "But she seems pretty tough for an old lady."

A voice from behind them made them jump as it said, "Oooh, Child - don't you call Miss Joy 'Old' or you'll be crawling on the see-ment looking for your head!"

When they'd turned around, a 6 ½ foot tall, elegant black woman put her hand to her mouth and pointed a ringed finger at Lance. Her eyes grew very wide – and she had an Adam's apple.

"Forgive me, boys. I've not seen you. Nope. Ms. Scarlet Fever will tell no one you were here."

'Let's go." I was again grabbed but I had become weary of Lance's persistent paranoia about being recognized. I'd had to wait outside an electric auto charger station's bathroom for thirty minutes before it was clear of customers for him to use it. "No. Miss Fever, what is it that worries you about us?"

"First, Mr. Fisk, the fact that I know your name means that you're either famous or infamous, or both. In your friend's case, honey, it's both." All this was said as she looked at us through her sunglasses perched at the end of her nose. She pulled out her cell phone – hot pink and diamond-bedazzled – chose an app, pressed a button, and turned it around for us to see a local newscaster giving a report. About us.

"Disney heartthrob and star of the Disney Plus historical dramedy Young Tesla Lance Hardwood was kidnapped today by a young man believed to be Peter Fisk of New York City. His accomplices, three young female fans, were captured, interrogated and ultimately charged with misdemeanors and released. The purpose behind the kidnapping seems to be casting for the part of a new character in Young Tesla that Mr. Fisk, an aspiring actor, desperately wants. He was last seen driving onto Highway 101 in a vintage cherry red Mustang convertible, headed north. If you spot them, call this station at 1-800-888-KCAL. That's 1-800-888-KCAL."

This was a Category 5 Chaos Storm, and I was caught in the middle of it with nothing and no one to hold onto. And worst of all, I'd seen chaos coming. I'd tasted it on his lips, saw it in his smile - even my body shook with it in his embrace. My instincts, my reasoning – both clouded over and clogged with infatuation and desire. Flirtation with Tucker had seemed civilized and fun.

There'd been no flirtation, no courtship, no time for reflection where Lance had been concerned. Lips accidentally met with a bang and instinctively locked with a boom. As an Agent of Order, I knew better. But put a gorgeous Agent of Chaos' tongue in my mouth and I lose control. Then my mind was shocked out of that fantasy as its wheels began to turn.

"Oh, my Choo cha-cha heels!" gasped Scarlet, "I do believe he's in shock. Come with me, and for Ms. Joy's sake, I'll help you. I'm head of the Theatre's makeup department. Now, what color would you like your hair?" She slapped my cheek, but I was still putting clues together. I was channeling Sherlock. Henry Cavill's Holmes, of course.