Part 2: S-O-S

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CAV POV

Life imitates art far more than art imitates life.

The great thing about being an actor is that you can apply the skills learned to be someone else to real life. I looked at my security team a.k.a. captors trying to look calm and charming as my mind raced. Where did I go wrong? How did all this go so horribly wrong and why? Four men and one woman surrounded me and said I was "taking a ride to a meeting of importance." The hell?

I had tried to struggle and fight, but they threatened not to let me go to this appearance if I didn't play nice. I should have, but all I could think of was being out in the open and trying to get help. But from where? I was lightly jostled like a package between them as they said their hellos to other security, to volunteers, to so many people. Everyone understood when I didn't speak, as if security was doing their job. The only thing I managed to get out was when I was allowed to answer my trainer's call because I said not answering would be a sign of something wrong. I called my dog Kal-El over the phone, asking how he was doing. It was a sign of distress to loved ones, but my guess was when I was seen with security, it was assumed all was well.

"No problems," one of the men reminded. He was called Alpha, though I didn't believe for a second that was his name. I didn't think any of their names were real, actually.

"He isn't going to cause any problems, are you, baby?" the woman said flirtatiously.

"Bianca, keep this business," Alpha reminded sternly.

"Aw, I can't have a little fun?" she asked, running a finger over my arm. I moved slightly, stopping her from touching me, but almost bumped into their muscle guy who was named Diesel. He reminded me of the actor from Green Mile, but no way near as kind looking.

"Bianca," Diesel sighed. "Stop handling the package. We have specific instructions. Not a hair out of place-"

"Meaning he isn't hurt," Bianca said sweetly. "He looks fine to me!"

I didn't say a word. I looked at Clutch, their tech guy. He still carried my cell phone. It was taken after I realized what was really happening. I need help!

It was time to take photographs with fans. I had to muster up my best charm and smile, but I'd never really done it under these kinds of circumstances. I looked calm outwardly, but my mouth and throat went dry as I loosely counted how many pictures I'd taken. So many people, but as I met them, no one I felt could help. The male fans shook my hand and barely looked at my face when I took pictures. Parents were too a high a risk to engage. Female fans were too excited for the most part, or were just...non-observant in way, trying to pose or whatever. I appreciated them all, I always do, but I need help!

Then, a woman came for a picture. She was different, just different. She worked out, I could tell by her stance, her female guns which stretched her custom designed form fitting tee, and how her muscular legs filled out her form-fitting jeans. When my eyes came up to hers, I realized she had been watching me, and blinked at her as she gave a faint smile and frown, raising an arched eyebrow at me. Hardly any makeup, fresh girl next door kind of look...leg pouch...hmm, tough little tomboy all grown up?

Elected.




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