"I can't believe you continue to waste your time with that fucking music teacher!" My mother yells as I sit at the kitchen aisle, fiddling with my fingers.

    "Y/N, how many times do we have to tell you that if you continue to pursue music, you will starve!" My father adds.
I remained quiet.

"Well?" My father taps his foot on the hardwood floor with his hands on his hips. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

The kitchen was full of silence. The frustration made my head hurt as I fought back my tears from anger.

"Nothing I say will ever make you change your fucking mind and be a supportive father for once." I blurted out, my sight focusing on my swinging legs as I sat on the red-leather stool. I hissed at the stinging pain on my cheek, for my mother just slapped the shit out of me.

"Watch your mouth." She pointed her index finger firmly at my face. "Go to your fucking room."
I scoffed at her as I jumped off the stool.

"She's so useless," I overheard my father say to my mother. "I don't know what we're going to do with her."

I skipped up the stairs and proceeded to run to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me.  I took off my jean jacket and hung it up behind my door. I reached for my journal when I sat on my bed, tracing my fingers gently over the pages where I wrote my brand new lyrics. It'll all be worth it, I remembered Sienna, my music teacher. She found me crying as I was sitting at her piano. I was frustrated, wondering if it's really what I was meant to do.

     "Y/N, darling," she sits next to me and places her hand on my shoulder with comfort. "You have to understand this is a process you have to go through in order to be successful. If you want to make it, you have to be in love with this process. Otherwise, you will let any inconvenience stop you. That's why many aspiring artists starve. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
      "But you, Y/N, you are so passionate and dedicated," With her tender touch she manages to take my hands off my face. "It'll all be worth it."

I snapped out of my thoughts when I heard soft knocks on my door.
"Come in." I quickly wiped my tears.
My father walked in. He was holding cup of hot chocolate and approached me carefully. I watched his soft-wrinkly hands as he set the cup down on my nightstand.

      "I brought you your favorite." He had a guilty smile on his face.
      "Thanks, dad..." I mumble, completely ignoring his presence. He always does this every time we get into an argument. Typical.

This time, he didn't even attempt to start a conversation with me. He knew it would be pointless. He started at me in disappointment as he watched me writing my lyrics.
"Dinner will be ready in 20." He said and closed the door behind him.
I sighed. "It'll all be worth it."

********

"This girl," Jonathan softly strokes his lips as he paces in the living room. "She's our free pass to getting the money we need."
He stops in his tracks and stands before his men, who are looking at him puzzled. Alex was filing his nails as he listened carefully to Jonathan's plan. On his right was a confused Murph, he had no clue what was happening. On Alex's left was Michael, who felt uneasy about this plan. Last but not least, there was Ross sitting on the floor with his legs crossed. He was Jonathan's best man, and the smartest.

"What's the point of this plan, anyway?" Alex asks, checking his nails and making sure they look even.

"Dammit, Alex! I've been talking about this for half an hour and you don't even know what the fuck we're doing?" Jonathan stares at him in disbelief.
Alex stays silent while the others giggle at him.

"Dumbass." Murph blurts out.
Alex smacked him with his nail file quickly. "Cabrón."

"Just hear me out! Damn." Jonathan rubs his temples. "I won't say this again. . . Considering this girl's parents are crazy rich, this is our chance to get their money by kidnapping her. We take her, threaten her parents, we take the money, we give them the girl back, and we'll be able to buy Jason's warehouse!"
Everyone groaned as soon as they heard the word 'warehouse'.
"Naw, fuck you, nigga." Murph stands up from his seat. "Another warehouse? Really?"

"It's not just any warehouse, boys." Jonathan shakes his head. "We are talking about a hidden vault with gold bars. The best weapons ever created, the best drugs we will be able to traffic. . . This is THE warehouse." He said proudly.
The men looked at each other and bursted out laughing.

"Damn, I've heard you say stupid shit," Michael laughs. "But man, we lost you this time."

Jonathan rolls his eyes. "If all of you want to stay under my roof, you must do what I say."
The laughs died.

"What do you want us to do then?" Ross cleared his throat.

"Watch this girl." Jonathan ordered. "Watch her every move, her routine. . . We need to find the perfect time to take action."

"What's her name, again?" Michael asks.

       "Y/N Y/L/N." Jonathan smirked.

TWO WEEKS LATER. . . .

Michael's POV
I was assigned to spy on Y/N for the past two weeks. We decided the perfect time to take her is when she exits school, since she usually walks back home. Jonathan's plan is absolutely absurd. Why can't we just rob a bank like we always do? I thought to myself. Y/N arrived to her house, so I made sure I was well hidden. I was hiding behind a big bush, which was in front of a window. As soon as I took a peek inside, I was able to take in the scene in front of me: Y/N's father physically abusing her, while her mother stood back and watched silently.

     Y/N cried desperately, constantly asking him to stop. It was pointless; he continued to whip her with the black leather belt.
    "You brought this upon yourself!" Her father stops for a second glares at her. He holds his breath as he takes another chance to whip her, but this time he did it with the buckle of the belt. I couldn't help but hiss at his action, as if I felt it myself.
     Y/N screams. "I fucking hate you!"

Her mother steps in, "Y/F/N. . . I think you went too far this time. For fuck's sake she's 18 years old!"

      "Shut up, Y/M/N!" He glares at her deadly in the eye. "She may be a grown ass, but she lives under MY roof. A roof under which I won't allow any type of disrespect!" He proceeds to hit Y/N one last time.

      She laid dead on the floor, choking on her own tears. Without saying a word, she managed to get up and run upstairs. She was followed by a door slam so loud it made her mother jump.

I moved on to the tree on the other side of the house. I carefully climbed it and positioned myself comfortably. It was a bit far from Y/N's window but I was able to see what was going on. She was standing in front of her body-length mirror in her underwear. She was quietly sobbing as she took a glance at her bruises and wounds. She flinched when her door opened, revealing her mom with her first-aid kit.

I decided I've seen enough, so I climbed off the tree before dialing Jonathan.
"Hello?" He answered from the other line.
"I think we're good to go. Tomorrow we take action." I put the hood over my head as I sneak away from the front yard.
"Perfect!" Jonathan exclaimed. "See you later, Mike." And with that he hung up.

THE NEXT DAY. . .

Y/N's POV
"Thank you so much for your patience today, Sienna. I had it rough today." I turn to my teacher after we exit Duxton High School.
       She shakes her head. "It's okay, Y/N. I understand. What matters is that you were able to practice successfully."

      "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, miss." I smile at her and wave as I begin to go on my own.
      "Are you sure you don't want me to give you a ride home?" Sienna asks. "It's getting a little dark."

     "I'm okay." I assure her.

     "Alright. . . Same time tomorrow?" She begins to make her way to her car.

     "Yes, ma'am!" I exclaim as I rush away from the parking lot.

           I put on my AirPods and start making my way home, as usual. As I'm blasting Matthew Wilder's "Break My Stride", a black Mercedes Benz pulls up at the curb which I'm headed to.

         "Hell no." I say to myself as I go towards the opposite direction. My pace fastened while I tried to convince myself nothing's gonna happen. I'm just overreacting. I turned my music off to be more aware of my surroundings. I heard footsteps right behind me as they stomped on the grass. I walked faster but the footsteps also went faster. I made the mistake of looking behind me, because actually, I was fucked.

It was too late to scream as the man with the black, messy hair, covered my mouth. I tried to fight back until I realized it was pointless. I'm weak. I felt like everything slowed down around me; everything was in slow motion.

        "You're so fucking useless. . . weak!" My father's voice echoed in my head. And just like that, my body went numb. All of a sudden, I didn't care. I was carried into the backseat of the black Mercedes Benz. My body was sweaty, making my skin stick to the leather fabric of the seats as soon as I was thrown inside. The man held my hands together, wrapping my wrists with what felt like a rope. I hissed at my itchy wrists while I watch the man blind fold me with a bandana before he moved into the driver's seat.

The engine roars and I begin to silently sob as soon as I feel the car move while it drove away from the curb.
I should've accepted that fucking ride home, I thought to myself.

The sound of a phone unlocking was heard, followed by a dialing tone.
"I got the girl, boss." The man spoke after several seconds of silence, "Surprisingly she didn't fight back. . . Yeah. . . I'm on my way."
"Please. . ." I whispered loud enough for him to hear me after he hung up the phone, "Don't hurt me."

"Don't worry, sweetheart." The man assured me. I didn't expect him to speak in such a tender tone, "it's not from you we're getting what we- I mean. . . my boss wants.
"My name is Ross, by the way." I heard him chuckle.
Why is this man smiling after he just kidnapped somebody?, I couldn't help but wonder.

     "All I'm going to ask you is to be obedient as soon as we arrive to the destination." He pleads, "I think Jonathan's plan is completely absurd. But we have no other choice. . ."
      "We?" I ask. The bandana feels too tight on my eyes, and my sweat isn't really doing me a favor. It's making my eyebrows and eyelids itch.
      "You'll meet everybody as soon as we get there." He pauses, "I won't be speaking anymore about this subject. I shouldn't be even speaking to you."
      I remain silent for the rest of the ride. I wasn't showing it but I was scared shitless. Sienna must be chilling at her house already applying a face cream before going to bed. That must feel good.

     After what felt like half and hour, the car pulled to a halt. Maybe a little too hard.
     "Ow!" I cried out as my body slipped and fell onto the car's floor, getting stuck.
      "Dammit, Ros—"
      "Don't call me by my name. Jonathan can't know I've spoken to you." Ross scolds me. He helps me get out of the car and unblinds me.

"Well, well." A man greets us, making his way towards me. Ross keeps a firm grip on my wrists as the man stands right in front of me. I can feel his breathing on my face. The smell of cigarettes violated my nostrils, "It was about time, Ross delivered you." The man laughs, as if I was some kind of object. I frowned.

      "What the fuck do you want?" I spoke without hesitation. Ross' grip tightened on my wrists. I could've sworn I felt the rope's fiber scratching on my skin and piercing through it.

     "Not much." The man shrugs, "just a couple of bucks from your folks."
     "Is that what this is all about?" I scoff, "and kidnapping me was your best idea?"
      I was able to hear Ross snort, but he cleared his throat when he felt an intense glare from this man. Given by the dominant vibes he is giving me, I assume this is the boss Ross talked to me about.

      "It's not only about the bucks, my sweet." The man chuckles. I frowned in disgust. "It's part of my revenge on your father. We—uh. . . Have some history." He adds, shrugging. My frowned face remained, for I was confused. I shifted uncomfortably under his staring session which traveled all over my body. His oily fingers traced my chin before I instantly moved my head from his grip.
       "Ross, take her inside for Murph to...." He trails off for a second, "to make our guest feel at home." A grin creeps into his face.

      "Yes, Jonathan." Ross nodded and gently pushed me forward. As we were walking down on a rock trail, I was able to take a look at the humongous house before us.

     Soon, the path transitioned into a solid ground as we were getting closer. I heard some voices, it was like they were arguing.

     "I know it was you who broke it, I saw you!"
     "It was an accident. For fuck's sake, Alex. You can buy another nail polish when we're done with the girl Jonathan said-" The dark-skinned, short man was interrupted by Ross opening the door to reveal me, still with my hands tied behind my back.

       At this moment, two men were staring directly at me. My eyes trailed off to the broken baby blue nail polish on the floor, then back up the skinny man with pale skin and green eyes. You could notice his disappointment as he went to find something to clean the mess up. The short man just stood there, staring blankly at us. He shook his head and snapped out of his thoughts.
     He makes his way towards me and grips my wrists, just like Ross was doing earlier. Since this man unblocked my view, I realized there was another man with them.

        Half of his curly, long hair was tied in loose tail. Some curls escaped it, they framed his face perfectly. He bit his lip as he looked up from the blade he was cleaning, making instant eye contact with me. His big doe eyes pierced through mine. I gulped.

      The short man takes me to a single chair placed in the middle of the living room, right in front of the man with the curls. He pushes me down into it, so the curly-haired man could tie my legs together as well. "Here's the deal." He spoke with a soft, husky voice, "You obey Jonathan, your chances of surviving are higher. Otherwise, you die.
     My eyes widen at his cold tone.

    "I'm Michael." The curly-haired man winks at me. I rolled my eyes. "The one who just brought you to the chair is Murph."

     "You mean the hobbit?" The pale-skinned man spoke as he bended over to clean the remaining stains of nail polish. He laughed at his own joke.

     "Ah, fuck you, Alex." The short man, Murph, hollered.

      Michael shook his head, "and the one who brought you into this place is Ross."
       I already knew but I didn't say anything about it.

"Aren't you guys not supposed to talk to me?" I asked curiously.

"Oh no, we aren't." Alex shook his head and took a seat next to Michael. "We just think it's kind of rude to not introduce ourselves. Even if you have the chance to go to the police after we try to kill you."
My eyes widened once again. Alex laughed.

"Which we won't." He assures, "hopefully." He whispered.

"Why aren't you freaking out?" Michael tilted his head with a confused look on his face. He's right. . . Why am I not freaking out? Five random men kidnapped me and took me to this place, and I'm talking to them as if they didn't just tie me to a chair right now?
    I shrugged.
  
   "The beef is not with you, babe." Alex reached for his nail file, "You got nothing to worry about."
   "Alex is right." Michael agrees while Murph crosses his arms, pursing his lips in disapproval. "You will be just fine." Michael added.

*******
2:36 am

     They lied.

     As Jonathan zips up his jeans and fixes his black hoodie, I cover my naked body in horror. He turns around, takes out his phone and snaps a picture of me without any hesitation. He laughs approvingly.

   "Man. . ." He sighs, "I never thought Y/F/N's daughter would feel so. . . splendid.
    "What was your name again?" He asks, sitting in front of me. Just like he didn't hesitate on taking that damn picture, I didn't hesitate on spitting at his damn face. However, he didn't hesitate either on slapping the shit out of me.

     "Feisty, huh?" He licks his lips, "I love it."
      I couldn't hold my cheek, for I was tied up to a bed's headboard in one of the guest rooms. The stinging sensation angered me, since it reminded of my mother.

    "You might be here for a while, my sweet." He holds my chin roughly in order to make eye contact with me, "I will send this picture to your folks. The longer they take to give me the cash I want, the more I will make them suffer. Of course, by making you suffer."

    I couldn't helped but laugh at his thought. He really thinks my parents would give a shit about me. I feel they haven't even noticed I'm not home yet; unbothered.

   He ignored me and spoke one last time, "Enjoy your stay." A smile creeped into his lips and made his way out of the bedroom.
    I was alone now. I can't believe I lost my virginity thanks to this rapist who just exited the door. My eyes glistened with tears of frustration as I tried to break free from the rope tying my wrists together to the headboard. "It's pointless . . ." I whispered.

    After what felt like ages, the door creeped open. I gasped and I felt my heart beginning to race. It's Michael.
    "Shh." He tries to hush me, "I'm not gonna hurt you."

    "Please, leave me alone." I pleaded. He ignored me and walked inside. I try to curl up in a ball to hide my body as much as possible. I notice Michael holding a folded piece of clothing, while on the other hand he's holding a cup. Is that hot chocolate I smell?

    "I shouldn't be doing this but—" he places the cup down on the night stand next to the bed, "This room is right next to mine and your screams and crying woke me up. Plus I wanted to make sure you were still alive."

     "Thanks for checking in, liar." I hissed. Michael frowned.

     "Liar?" He asks, visibly offended.

     "You said I was going to be fine!" I raised my voice. Michael immediately covered my mouth. "Shhh!" He hushed me, "Jonathan sees me here and he'll kill me." he whispers sternly.
    
      He sighs and lets go before reaching for his blade. Carefully, he begins to cut string by string of the rope. It took him a few seconds until my wrists were finally free. I immediately covered my breasts.

       Michael reaches for the piece of clothing I saw earlier, unfolding it to reveal a short night gown. It has white silk fabric, detailed with lace on the breast area.
     "I hope it fits you, it's what I could find in some random drawers of the house." Michael tilts his head, examining the gown. I take it in my hands before slipping it on.

     "It's a little big but—" I shrug, "it'll do."
       It's definitely better than being naked in front of random men.

     "Here." Michael reaches for the cup he left on the nightstand and hands it over to me carefully, "your chocolate is getting cold."
     
      I thank him before taking a small sip. "Why are you doing this?" I ask him.

     "It's just a nice gesture, don't feel too special." He smiles, followed by a lip bite. I cleared my throat and had another sip of my drink.

    He steps back and leans on his side against the wall, "also, I brought you hot chocolate because I know it's your favorite."

    I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. "What?"

     "I was the one spying on you for the past two weeks. I have seen enough to know how much you love chocolate." He flashes his perfect white teeth. I realized he must have also seen every time my parents beat me up. "I know your father brings you hot chocolate to make you feel better." He adds.

    "Of course, Michael." I scoff. "I feel so much better now after I just got fucking raped."
  
     He rolls his eyes. "Y/N, I'm so—"

     "What is Jonathan's deal?" I interrupt him, "What does he want?"

     Michael sighs and carefully takes a seat next to me on the side of the bed. I can smell his strong cologne now that he's so close.

      He starts explaining detail by detail Jonathan's intentions. From how my father used  used to be the owner of a [very] successful record company, how Jonathan was screwed over by him when he was an aspiring music producer, and how Jonathan wants to get his revenge now. I was very confused, what does that have to do with this warehouse Michael is talking to me about? However, I was beginning to understand why my parents were against the idea of me making it into the show business.

     We talked for what felt like hours, and hours. How come I'm feeling more relaxed at a stranger's house than I should at my own house? Wasn't I raped like 4 hours ago? Are my parents worried that I haven't come home? Will they—

   "You should get some rest." Michael interrupts my overthinking session. "I can't be here any longer." He reaches for the empty cup on the nightstand before making his way towards the door.

   "Thank you." I flash a shy smile, which he doesn't return. He nods instead.

    "Goodnight, Y/N." He speaks softly.

    "Goodnight, Michael."

      That's when he closed the door behind him after exiting, leaving me alone in the darkness of the room.

CAST:
- Noah Centineo as "Jonathan"
- Michael Jackson as "Michael"
- Kevin Hart as "Murph"
- Ryland Adams as "Alex"
- Ross Lynch as "Ross"
- Rakhee Thakrar as "Sienna"

*****
Author's Note:
HOLY SHEEEEEEET, ITS BEEN SO LONG 💀💀
I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I decided to write a story with the same concept as my old fan fic "I fell in love with my kidnapper" but with a different storyline!
Anyways, I hope I can update consistently since I'm really looking forward to this story ❤️❤️
Let me know what you think!