FicWad

With a groan, I open my eyes to a harsh bright light, and notice that this room isn’t my own. My vision is distorted, but the first thing I notice is that the room is crimson red. My room is not red. My room is white. The last thing I remember was sitting at the bar of a club in downtown Los Angeles with some dark haired stranger. I couldn’t see her face properly; I just remember seeing strobe flashes of her features, in every colour possible; red, yellow, purple, green... she bought me a drink, we talked for hours, and we may have danced. Every memory after that had been erased, like pencil being rubbed off of paper.

I close my eyes before reopening them and studying my surroundings, trying to figure out where I am. I heave a sigh because I’m unsuccessful. Nothing seems familiar. The red walls jog my memory and remind me of a photo shoot I did a few years ago, where I sat on the edge of a bed with Shannon, Tomo and a former band member, Matt. The colour red has connotations of many things; for me, connotations of anger and rage, but also passion, love and sex. Maybe that’s the reason I’m here. Someone is either angry with me, or wants to have sex with me, by the sounds of it.

I feel drowsy, like I want to have a long nap, but I’m too curious. I have to stay awake. I need to stay awake. My wrists are bound to the chair I’m sitting on and I can curl my hands into a fist, my fingernails digging into my palms and that’s pretty much all I can do. The chair is cold and wooden against my bare back, so I look around, wondering where my shirt could be. This is not good. I should never have allowed myself to fall asleep. I’m angry with myself for being so weak and pathetic.

I’m incredibly confused, so I pray that this is someone’s idea of a sick and twisted joke, trying to scare me or make a fool out of me. I know a few pranksters, but this is beyond funny. Maybe, I’m in serious trouble! Suspicious thoughts start to whizz through my head, and I begin to panic. Am I being held captive?

Get a grip, Jared.

Never have I been so nervous, and it terrifies me greatly. I try to writhe around and release myself from the black leather straps fastening me to the chair, but unfortunately, I have no luck. I’m not sure if I’m alone, if someone is watching me and I haven’t noticed yet. Security cameras, spies and MI6 shit. Either way, it’s unbearably frightening and I don’t know how much longer I can cope without shouting at thin air. Someone must have been around, watching, waiting for me to wake up, right?

“Is anyone here?” I croak, my throat is horribly arid.

No answer. I begin to wonder if I’ll ever get out of this place. Has Shannon noticed that I’ve gone missing? That I never returned home? I want to scream. The silence irritates me because I’m not sure of what I’ve gotten myself into. I’m an idiot as well as a fool. When I hear the door unlock, my heart skips a beat and I turn quickly to see who it is. My saviour? My liberator? My knight in shining armour?

Someone, please help me.

And then my ears focus on the sound of clicking heels on the oak flooring.

“Good evening, Mr. Leto.”