( gif by hazzawckd <3 )
word count; 4174.
playlist; house song — searows
highway 95 — baby keem
bad habit — poptropicaslutz!

I woke up tangled in what felt like the most heavenly, expensive silk sheets before I even opened my eyes. I was so cozy and comfortable, I could feel the sunlight from the window on my skin. I groaned and went to flip over and stretch, but the sound of a restraint stopped me in my tracks, my eyes finally opening up.

I gasped out in panic, sitting up in record time when I saw I was zip tied to the headboard pole. I looked down at my lap, seeing I was in fact in silk sheets, but not my silk sheets nor my bed. This bed was bigger, more expensive and the floor surrounding it was more cluttered with spikes of jewelry.

I had an instant headache considering my wound was still healing, but that was the least of my problems.

When I thought I felt a presence to my right, my head turned in that direction when I saw a broad figure sitting at the table with his exposed back to me. I didn't need to question who it was, I knew in my soul it was Hobie.

My body jolted forward again as I tried to pry the zip tie off my one wrist. The sound of the bed creaking underneath the weight of my body caused his head to turn over his shoulder, eyes locked on me with bloodshot eyes and erratic. This was his room and I had no idea what happened to cause me to be locked here.

"Morning, Fashion Killa." He mumbled before turning back to doing whatever he was doing on the table, the scars I saw before now in a brighter lighting were in my perfect view; some healed over and some brand new.

His hair was tied back in a large hair tie, gray sweatpants and black Nike socks.

"What am I doing here? Did we–? Did you–?" I stammer out in fear of my own safety, pushing the covers off my body to see I was in large clothing that was most definitely not mine.

"You don't remember?" He questions with his back still to me.

"Did you rape me!" I choked out in panic that was getting to me, scared that I was violated without remembering anything. The tears fell down my face, my free hand trying to catch all of them, but it didn't work. Too many were just falling.

"Wow, (Y/N). I was going to continue on with the joke but I am not that much of a monster." He says while turning around suddenly to face me, his face actually softened when we made eye contact. "I didn't touch you." He stated, his fingers playing a guitar pick he was shoving a string through to form a necklace.

"Then why am I here! Why am I chained to your headboard like a prisoner? Where are my other clothes?!" I was on edge, fearing the worst even more how I ended up here. Why even cuff me? What did he actually do to me within the time I don't remember last night?

"Rico and Gwen changed your clothes." He scuffles, holding the guitar pick up to the ceiling light to get a different look on whatever it was he was doing.

"You are jumping over the first comment I am making. Why am I zip tied!"

"You are so frantic today."

"I'm freaked out. I wanna know what happened! Why can't I remember what happened?" I was nervous for the answer, looking around the room to take in the surroundings to see if it gave me any answers or jogged my memory.

There was one broken lamp on the floor and the mirror was smashed in the corner, the microwave was unplugged and tossed off to the side, the door of it completely ripped off. Different objects of free hotel paraphernalia scattered the carpeted floor like he was either robbed or purposely destroyed anything in sight.

"What's the last thing you remember?" He asks while focusing on a different guitar pick now, this time the design was a little dress on the back side facing me.

"Cut the zip tie."

"Answer my question." He says back just as calmly, not even looking at me when I spoke. He was under intense concentration with his DIY over there.

I turned to the zip tie and pulled, everytime I did my wrist started to burn slightly from the pain but I was determined to get out of this predicament if he wanted an answer from me.

"You'll hurt your wrist." He mumbles under his breath while keeping his eyes glued to the little trinkets scattered out on the table. He didn't have to look at me to hear the small groans I spit out trying to free myself.

"I'm not your prisoner." I spit out.

"Maybe if you answer my question then I'll cut it." He spoke very calmly but that really made this all so much more worse. He says the most sadistic, disgusting things when he shows no emotions.

"Answer mine and I'll answer yours." I suggest.

He chuckles and shakes his head, kissing his teeth.

"This isn't a compromise princess."

"Please.." I say with my head against the headboard. "I'm really trying to not freak out, I'm zip tied to your bed and you won't answer any of my questions. I'm trying, but please meet me halfway."

He goes silent, eyes staring up at me finally after putting the guitar pick on the table. 'You know what, I like when people ask me about myself. So I'll answer your questions, and answer mine."

Not too bad of a deal.

"And you will unlo–"

"The thirty seconds haven't started." He says while cutting me off, a hand raises to stop me. "And I'm going to go first."

He leaned on his parted knees in his chair, tossing a sweatshirt over his head to cover the front of him when he turned to me. A small bruise on his face under his eyes, his eyes still bloodshot like he had been taking something for hours.

"Now, what was the last thing you remember from last night?" He repeats from earlier.

I took a quick, short breath to try and remember. I remember walking across the street with Ares and Ozzy, I remember the bright lights and crazy music that had my feet vibrating. I remember the strobe lights and sweaty bodies, I remember Ozzy and Ares locking lips; I remember seeing Hobie and the girl all over him.

"Taking a shot with Ares and Ozzy."

He pauses for a second, waiting for something else. Which of course he was.

"And..." He mumbles like I was missing something from my statement.

"That's the only important part of it." I shake my head.

"Think again." He pushes, lowering his eyes.

"What? I just did."

"Think harder." He repeats like I was going to magically remember whatever it was he wanted me to remember.

I tried to search into my brain again, hoping to remember what happened past the drink that I had with Ozzy and Ares. No matter how hard I tried, nothing was coming to me and it made me feel on edge. I was obviously missing a big chunk of time from then to now.

"I don't remember anything, I swear." I mumble in defeat, dropping my head back against the headboard.

He paused again, staring at me like he was taking in my words with a calculated expression. I sat confused on his silk sheets, waiting for him to ask me the next question so we can get on with the theatrics.

"Alright." He spoke while sitting up straight.

"What happened to me?"

"It's still my turn." He immediately answers. "Do you remember a bartender named Darius?"

"What?"

"It's a simple yes or no question." He shakes his head again, interlocking his hands together behind his head.

"No... Should I?"

He laughs and runs his hair back, rubbing his hands down his face.

"I mean you were flirting with him all night."

"What!" I widen my eyes. "How would you know that?"

"You stayed in the most open spot of the bar that was dead center to the right of the dance floor. I could easily see you."

"But you were fucking around with some girl." I spit out.

He smirks in return from my words.

"So you do remember other things?"

"You asked me what was the last thing I remember, you fucking some girl is the least important and not the last thing I remember."

He drops his head with a grin, staring at his hands in his lap. He got up from his chair, making me nervous as he stood tall to his feet. I pushed myself a bit closer towards the middle of the bed as best as I could, pushing my feet up to my chest.

He walks over to me and sits on the side of the bed next to me. His side profile was facing my tucked body, but his head was turned to look over at me from his shoulder. I could feel the small bit of heat radiating next to my outer thigh. I didn't want him this close to me, I felt trapped against my will. I still don't know his intentions and I still don't know if I should believe anything he told me about not doing what he did with me.

"You had an adventurous night, fashion killa." He hums. "Your little bartender friend spiked your drink." He gives me the first apologetic smile I have seen since I first ever met him.

"What–" I whisper, holding my hand up to my throat as if that would help me hear him right.

"You were given a date rape drug." He repeats.

The thought made my head start to spin, chest tightening at my carelessness. I've never been roofied, let alone have someone get that close to me to roofie me; how could I be so stupid?

"W–was I–?"

"He didn't touch you." He answered before I finished my rambling sentence.

I paused, staring into his bright brown entities, trying to find the truth in his comment.

"I came up to you, but you slapped me. I told you to go, which, by the way, you are very fast when roofied. I found you on the rooftop and–" I saw him pause, looking to the side of the room real quick before shaking his head like he didn't want to finish his sentence. "You fell and hit your head, almost falling over the edge of the building. Now we are here." He spoke normally, even pulling a small grin to his face.

I could tell something was missing in his statement, something about me ending up on the roof and just 'hitting' my head wasn't at all adding up, but that would be a question for a different time because I had a lot more questions I wanted to know about.

"But that doesn't make any sense."

"Well make it make sense."

"You told me you would never save my life. Actually, you literally said you would let me fall off the roof." I shake my head, him saving me was the only thing that made all of this seem like a dream.

"Well I did." He restates.

I stared at him for the punchline of "just kidding," to come but it never did. He stared back, giving me an annoyed look that I was just staring at him like that.

"So you chased me to the roof after you knew I was roofied, watched me get roofied at that and instead of helping me out, you let me pass out and almost fall off the roof. Am I missing anything else?" I was haing a hard time processing all of this, but I was getting annoyed that he just let me put myself into danger fro a game of is.

"In a nutshell, yeah." He shrugged.

"How do I know you wren't the one who roofied me?" I whispered, my fist clenched.

He snickers and shakes his head, turning away from me to look out towards the open window of the city we were in.

"I don't need to put a date rape drug in a girls drink to get her to sleep with me, look at me."

"But you have been terrorizing me since I got on this tour. You threaten me every chance you get, you get your whole band in on it as well." I make a valid point.

"Listen, do you really think I would spike your drink and try to assault you because you won't sleep with me? Hate to break it to you sweetcheeks, but you aren't worth that much trouble in that department." He slides a hand towards my ankle, making me flinch it away. He smirks at my quick attention, laughing to himself with a shrug.

"I don't trust or believe you."

"I don't care if you believe or trust me, but I'm telling truth whether you choose to believe me or not. If you think I assaulted you last night then go to the doctor and get checked out. Typically people say thank you when you found out someone saved your life." He causally says, hooknig his foot underneath the foot of a chair and sliding it over, pushing himself off the bed and onto the chair. Feet kicked up onto the bed.

"You now have thirty seconds to ask me whatever your little brain desires." He speaks again, pointing to the clock on the wall at the other side of the room; his head turn in that direction.

"Why am I in your room?"

"You dropped your key in the club, Opium went back to try and find it but the place closed for the night."

"Why am I cuffed to your bed?"

"Rico was trying to change your clothes and take your makeup off to wash your face, but for a split second you started to swing on everyone so I had to zip tie you to the headboard so you would stop. You got a nasty right hook."

"Did you–we–do anything last night?"

He smirks, shaking his head before answering.
"I want our first time to be rememberable, baby."

"Why did you save me?"

He paused, keeping his face away from me but he must've forgotten about the mirror next to him, a scowl on his face presenting form whatever happened last night making him annoyed. "Because falling to your death while being roofied would be a terrilble way to go, and I was the last perosn on that roof. Don't want my name tainted with a push or suicide."

"Why is your room completely torn apart?"

"I got handsy with a pretty girl."

"Why are you making guitar picks into necklaces?"

"Believe it or not, I donate them to the kids club in every city we go to, I was in their position once. I like to give back."

"Is Miles really a doctor?"

"He's a nurse-in-training, we like to call it. His mom is a nurse, got the idea from saving his friends once. He comes with us during his summer vacation, his parents make him do extra work, though."

"What about Ozzy?"

"I would never trust him with any medical equipment."

"No, I mean what is his skill? I know someone like that has to have one."

"He is a thief, the best pickpocket we have." He reveals.

"Opium?"

"A coder."

"So like a–"

"A genius with computers and cameras." He finishes.

"Rico?"

"She can speak seven different languages."

"Crass?"

"Very good at analysis, he has a photographic memory."

"Gwen and Pav?"

"Gwen is very good at gymnastics, she can get into places we can't, for some weird reason her bones just don't break and can squeeze into small places. Pav has... an unique ability that he doesn't like to share a lot of times."

"You have red eyes, do you take drugs?"

"I wish I was taking them right now, I just haven't slept."

"Why–"

"You're in my bed." He states with furrowed brows.

"Do you want to kill me?" I whisper.

He paused for a moment, turning his head back to me with it slightly tilted to the side.

"I mean nothing would stop me," He smirks. "But it's not on my agenda for the day."

"Are any of the answers you gave me lies?"

"Absolutely." He looks back at the clock, my stomach dropping. "Your time is up."

He gets up from the chair, lightly tapping the center of his head before moving his body to the window. I moved my arm again, forgetting that I was zip tied up.

"Why would you lie!" I yell in annoyance.

"Just because I said I would tell any whatever you asked, doesn't mean I would be totally honest."

"So everything was a lie."

"Nah, just two." he turns back to me with two fingers lifted up to show he meant two.

"I didn't get to ask about your skill." I mumbled, staring at whatever it was that was so important out in the real world instead of in here.

He turns his head, looking at me sitting on my knees. He walks back over, scanning my figure up and down until he's standing at the side of the bed again. He towers over me, his brown orbs staring into my own as I felt myself get flustered.

"You really want to go down that path and find out?"

"Only if you tell me the truth." I whisper.

He chuckles at my answer, looking down to my legs tucked underneath me as he reaches does to pull them out from under me so my back was pushed up against the headboard. I gasped at the transition, confused and on edge as he got on the bed over top of me.

On his hands and knees, he cralwed over to me before trapping my thighs in between his arms as his hands rested flat on the mattress beneath.

"I love to get into peoples mind."

His tone was chilling and that's all it took for me to know he wasn't lying.

"What d-do you mean?"

"I can get answers out of you by just observing your eyes and body language." He clarifies, confidently.

"So like a fuckin' wizard?" I question.

He grins, dropping his head as I stare at the top of his head with a tight stomach and a shaky body.

He tilts his head back to look at me again, making my stomach churn everytime we make eye contact.

"Yeah, let's call it that. It's some psychological method that a friend of mine used to get answers instead of beating someone to a pulp. I can figure out if you are lying by watching your nose, your eyes, the shakiness of your eyes, the dilation of them, the color your neck turns, if I really wanted to; I could figure it out from your hand gestures too. I also also have a hidden talent I'll share with you on a later day, baby."

I furrowed my brows, trying to grasp the information he presented. He already lost me when he said by watching my nose, how can someone tell if I'm lying by my nose?

"I don't get it." I admit, slightly embarrassed but also intrigued.

"You had a best friend, right?"

"I have a best friend."

He raises his hands in a universal sign of apology, grinning all at once. "I bet I can guess her name. I'm going to ask you a series of questions, but don't answer them until I say so, and just stare right into my eyes, baby."

I stared blankly into his eyes, sighing after awhile.

"Fine. Go ahead."

He stays on his hands and knees above my body, my back against the headboard with a slight tilt in it to look up at him, eye level with me.

"Does her name start with the letter A-M?" He asks, burning his vision into mine. Occasionally his dark orbs would glance down to my nose and neck, just checking for another point of contact.

I didn't answer as instructed, just staring back.

"It's between A-M." He whispers to himself, my stomach knotting underneath the weight of his stares. He had to have been guessing or looking me up.

"You don't give off the vibe of someone friending just anyone, right? This you can answer."

"Not necessarily."

"You're telling the truth." He hums, looking at each eye individually before taking a short breath.

"Does it start with an A?" He asks with strong eye contact.

"Nah." He answers himself, narrowing his eyes.

"E?" I was dead silent, staring at him with a dropped stomach.

"E." He repeats with a smirk.

"Like I said, you don't give off the vibe of friending just anyone and since you are into fashion, I'm guessing she has to have a unique name. But I'm not getting the vibe it's short for anything, just straight to the point." He talks to himself while focusing on me.

"It's definitely short, you wouldn't waste your time saying the full name. I know that because you refuse to say Pavitr, only his nickname."

His eyes bounce back and forth between my own like I was telling him all the answers in a single look. I was very focused on just keping the small bit of contact that he requested.

"I'm going to list a few names," He states. "Just keep watching me."

"Emilia."

"Eleanor."

"Eva."

"Esme."

"Ellie."

He pauses, my hand gripping the bed sheets underneath my body as I kept my eyes on him. "It's Ellie ain't it. That you can answer."

"No." I said quietly.

"Your nose just twitched and you may not have noticed or felt it, but you looked to the left. Meaning you lied. Your best friends name is Ellie."

I blinked and parted my lips in confusion and impressed, there's no way this just happened. But how else would he have honestly guessed that?

"How did you do that?" I questioned. "I said maybe two, three words max."

"You didn't have to say much, your body language and eyes gave it away. You're terrified of me and you carry around that book with the photo of you two in it, you don't let anyone touch it or open the first page; it's like you are keeping her hidden. When I got closer to figuring out the possibilities of her name, your pupils enlarged. When I listed the shortest names that start with an E, your pupils vibrated because you knew I was close. All it took was for you to say no, which caused your nose to just slightly twitch, meaning it was itching." He said in theory.

"And everyone can do this? Or are you special."

He shrugs with his hands still planted on the mattress next to my hips. "Haven't met anyone yet."

"Why do you do it so well."

"My stepdad was a cop. Let me sit outside the interrogation rooms when he was doing it, picked up a few tricks and tips."

"Real or not real?"

"Real."

He smirks and sits up, straddling my waist before reaching over to the nightstand to grab a small knife, bringing it to my zip tied wrist before cutting it off. In the moment his arm reached over my body, I could see more faint scars on his arms that were hidden under stick and pokes, and tattoos that littered all over his body.

"Did someone do this to you?" I asked, rubbing my wrist in a small circular motion before looking up at him.

With one hand holding himself up, he pushed himself off the bed before moving to semmhis feet and stretching his arms above his heads, pushing the sleeves down. "No." He surprisingly answers, but shortly.

"I'm sorry if I overst—"

"Let's go get some food." He cuts me off.

I froze and stared up at him, a raised eyebrow. "Sorry?" I asked puzzled.

"A. Walk." He repeated again, already slipping on different shoes to wear.

"But why? With me?"

"You weren't my pick of the litter, but yeah. With you. And I'm tired of eating hotel food, I want a burger." He clarifies.

"So a date."

"Absolutely not. But if the destination ends up at a diner with a fine burger that leads us to sit across from each other, I'll let you secretly call it a date if you get up to change and hurry up." He smirks, watching my reaction jump up off the bed and scamper to the door.

I paused with the door half opened, turning to look over my shoulder at him. "What if you walk me off a cliff and let me fall this time."

"Let's go down that path when we reach it."