Chapter Text
At a young age, Shane had already developed a love for acting. His parents always told him that he was blessed with talent, often using it to get out of messy situations as a child. As he grew older, he enrolled in classes and even graduated with a degree in Fine Arts, majoring in Acting. By the age of 24, he was cast in a small role in a film, but his skills truly shone, and he gained public notice. A year later, Shane Hollander is now a known name in the media, and after starring in a lead role in a drama, it truly solidified his career.
He was genuinely thankful because this is something he excels at and truly loves doing. His privacy might’ve been affected, but he really doesn’t mind. He went to events with at least one bodyguard because, well, he’s Shane Hollander now.
Like today, at 1:25 AM, he is still attending an event he was invited to. He doesn’t remember what his role here really is, publicity, maybe? One of the guards assigned to him stands close, hands clasped together. He wants to go home already, change out of his tuxedo, and just crash and sleep the night away. But he’s stuck here until the event formally closes.
And he really needs to pee.
He turned to his bodyguard, signalling with his head that he was going to the restroom. The guard nodded, making his way to Shane, but the actor gestured with his hands to stay put. Because honestly, what will happen to him as he relieves himself? Once his bodyguard stayed in place, Shane walked to the restroom, where he saw a man washing his hands. He went to a urinal and quickly did his business.
When he’s about to wash his hands, the same guy is still standing there, now beside the sink and fixing his hair in front of the mirror. Shane walked over and opened the faucet.
“You are Shane Hollander,” The guy said, and Shane noticed an accent. Russian, maybe?
“Yeah, hey,” Shane said absentmindedly, eyes trained on his hands.
As Shane turned the faucet off, he was taken aback when arms wrapped around his torso and a handkerchief was placed on his face, covering his nose and mouth. He kicked as hard as he could, clawing at the arm around him, but the other guy was stronger than him. He got lightheaded, his arms dropping to his sides, and his eyes starting to close.
The last thing he heard before losing consciousness was a soft I’m sorry.
–
He woke up groggy, with blurry vision, and without memories of what had happened. He can feel sheets beneath him, a bed? His face is squashed into the pillow; it seems he’s lying sideways. He groaned, hand coming up to rub his forehead, but was unable to reach.
That’s when he realized his hands were tied, a rope tied on one of the bedposts, the other end extending over to Shane’s wrist, where it was tied snugly. His heart started racing wildly, and panic began to set in.
“Help!” He screamed as loud as he could, “Help me, somebody!”
He screamed as loud as he could, but no one came to help him. He looked around the room, which had no windows, but there was an air conditioning unit on the left wall. At the right is a dresser, and beside the bed near Shane, there is a bedside table with nothing on top of it. The door to the room is right in front of him, so close yet so far.
“Help!” Shane screamed once again.
The door burst open, and in came a familiar guy. It took a second, but Shane remembered it was the same guy in the restroom.
“You okay?”
Shane glared at him, tears already forming in his eyes, “You! Let me go, fucking asshole! Kidnapper! You fucking kidnapped me!” Shane shouted, throat raw from the effort.
“Shane, do not shout-”
“Fuck you!” Shane grabbed one of the pillows and threw it towards the guy. It didn’t even reach him; hell, it didn’t even reach the floor because it was tough to move with his hands bound like this.
“Shane, this room is, uhm- what is the word, soundless? No, isoundproof. It is soundproof; no one can hear you.”
Tears started running down Shane’s face, “Let me go, please.”
“I can’t, I’m sorry.” The sadness in the other’s voice took Shane by surprise, even a little.
“Why are you doing this? Do you need money? I can give you money.”
Shane saw the guy shake his head, “No, not money. I cannot tell you, I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing!” Shane shouted, startling the guy. “You do not get to apologize, you motherfucker! I am bound to a bed, and you’re fucking apologizing?!”
The guy bit his lip, looking at Shane with what looked like pity. Then, he turned and opened the door, walking out of the room without saying anything. Shane started sobbing, his hands coming up to his face to wipe the snot and tears. This is not happening; this is just a dream. Shane tried pinching himself, but he’s still here. Awake, bound to a bed in a room, inside a building he has no idea where.
The door opened once again, and the same guy came in, holding a glass of water. He cautiously walked to Shane, and the latter scooted to the edge of the bed to create space between them.
The guy placed the water on the bedside table, “Drink, it will soothe your throat.”
“You’re fucking delusional if you think I will even touch that.”
“It is water, is even purified,” The guy tried joking, but Shane was having none of it.
“Fuck you!”
The guy sighed in defeat, walking back to the door without glancing at Shane, closing it as he left. Shane lay back down on the bed, closing his eyes because his head was starting to throb from the crying and shouting.
He tried to remember exactly what had happened the night before. He’s at an event, it was late, and he wanted to go home. He went to the restroom, and then- oh. He remembered the handkerchief, the “I’m sorry” whispered to him.
He’s trying to think of the reason why he was taken. The guy said it’s not for money, so what is this for, really? He tried reaching for his pockets, but was unable to do so because of his restraints. Instead, he rolled on the bed to feel if there was something in the pockets of his pants.
Nothing.
Fuck, he’s really screwed. The rope used to tie his hands is thick; there’s no way he can tear it, not even with his teeth. He groaned, lying down with his eyes closed. He’s not sure how long he stayed like that, but he heard the door open once more. He sat back up, looking at the same guy from before. This time, he’s holding a tray with a bowl of what looks like oats. He placed them on the foot of the bed.
“You need to eat,” He said, standing a few steps away.
Shane glared at the man, then at the food, before he stretched his legs and kicked the bowl away, hearing it shatter on the ground and the tray clattering as well.
“Fuck. You.” He said, voice laced with so much venom he’s surprised it even came from him.
The guy sighed, once again walking out of the room without saying anything. However, it wasn’t a minute later when he came back, holding a broom, a bucket, and a rag in his hands. Shane watched quietly as the guy crouched down, out of Shane’s line of vision. He can hear some wiping for a few minutes, then the sound of broken porcelain bumping against each other.
Once the guy stood once again, he turned to Shane, “I will come back later to check on you. If you do not want to eat, is okay, but you need to drink water.” He gestured with his head towards the untouched glass of water on the bedside table before leaving Shane to himself.
–
Day 1
Shane is nothing if not stubborn. He might be a great friend, an even better son, but he is stubborn as hell. During the night (Shane assumed), the same guy came in to check on him, but Shane didn’t pay him any mind. He left an apple on the foot of the bed, which Shane ignored.
He doesn’t know what time he fell asleep, as there were no windows nor clocks in the room, and he has no way of telling the time. But he did end up sleeping, exhausted after everything that happened. He was woken up when the door opened, and the same guy came in, “Good morning.”
Shane ignored him again, eyeing the other warily. In his hands is another tray of food, which appears to be eggs, bacon, and bread. There’s also a cup of coffee, which Shane noted smells good.
“Eat, please.” Shane ignored him. “You will feel bad if you do not eat.” Ignored, once again.
The guy gave up, leaving the tray on the foot of the bed. Before he took his usual steps away, he stopped and looked at Shane, “Do not kick it, I do not like cleaning.” He said thoughtfully, “Is okay if you do not want to eat. I understand. But do not waste the food.”
Shane didn’t answer, and the guy accepted the silence before he left. Thankfully, it was also the time when his stomach grumbled. He didn’t eat at all yesterday, and now it’s creeping up on him. He’s also thirsty as hell, but God forbid he touches anything here.
A few hours later, the same person came back and was not surprised to see everything in the same state as he had left it. Or if he’s surprised, he did a good job of hiding it. He took the tray carefully, walking out of the room for only a few minutes. He then came back, holding a bottle of water and two granola bars.
“I assume you think I put something in the food and water, even though I have not.” He said slowly, “I bought this for you; both are sealed, not touched.”
He placed the items on the foot of the bed, walking to the bedside table to take the still-untouched glass of water before making his way out of the room.
Shane waited a few minutes before scooting to the end of the bed, taking the bottle and squeezing it on his thighs, then slowly opening the cap. He raised the bottle to his lips and started chugging the water down, soothing his throat immediately. He gave an ahh right after, satisfied.
Next, he took one of the granola bars and opened it, taking a big bite from the snack. As he chewed, he double checked the room once more to check if he could use anything to his advantage. The air conditioning unit is too high, and there’s nothing he can use to stand on it. Not to mention, he’s still bound to the bed, and there’s no way he can reach anything right now. He’s still clueless about what’s inside the drawers of the dresser; maybe there’s something there that can help him escape.
In no time, he had already finished both granola bars. Although it’s not a complete meal, it still helped satisfy his appetite. He scooted back over to the head of the bed, staring into the wall. He still has no answers to his questions: why is he here? What do they want from him? Where is he?
His best bet is the guy who’s currently taking care of him. Despite his large build, the guy has excellent features that even Shane, in his most vulnerable moments, can still see. The golden curls, the striking blue eyes, and even his crooked teeth add to his qualities.
Shane needs to tone down his demeanor a little, but not to the extent of letting his guard down completely. This is still his captor, but at the same time, it is the only human interaction Shane has.
The door opened after a few hours, Shane thinks, and the guy came in empty-handed.
“Just checking on you,” He said, eyes drifting to the empty containers at the foot of the bed. “Ah, you ate. That is good.” He walked over and cleaned up after Shane, taking the bottle and wrappers in his hands.
“Who are you?” Shane decided to ask.
The guy was obviously taken aback, not expecting Shane to talk, especially to him. It took him a few minutes to reply, “I cannot tell, sorry.”
“A name, I just need your name,” Shane said.
The guy bit his lip, “Ilya.” That’s all he said before he left the room.
Ilya, at least Shane got a name. He’s not sure when Ilya will return, but Shane is determined to speak with him more and gather more information about what happened and what will happen in the future.
–
Day 2
Ilya visited twice more yesterday, once to bring him more snacks and a bottle of water, and the other time to clean up. But he didn’t stay for small talk, so Shane let it go. Today, as he woke up and heard Ilya approaching, he sat up and waited for his chance.
“Good morning,” Ilya greeted, holding yet another tray of food. “Try to eat, yes? I did not put anything, only seasoning.”
Shane shot him a small smile. If he needs to pretend to even like this person so he can get out, he will do it.
“Fine,” Shane said, “But you need to stay with me.”
Ilya paused from stepping away after he placed the tray on the table, eyebrows coming up in surprise. “Why?”
Shane shrugged, “I have nothing to do and no one to talk to, what can I even do when I’m like this?” Shane raised his hands for effect.
Ilya sighed, sitting down on the floor and gesturing grandly with his hands. Shane nodded, scooting closer to the tray of food. “Did you cook this?”
“Maybe,” Ilya answered plainly.
The food on the tray is scrambled eggs and ham, as well as two pieces of toast. He fixed himself a sandwich before taking a bite. It’s good, Ilya did season the eggs, which Shane appreciated. He swallowed the food before talking, “Why am I here?”
He can see that Ilya is about to say no once again, so he followed up, “No, please tell me. I’m not asking you to reveal your plan, or anything, and what good would it do? I’m bound to the bed for fuck’s sakes!” Shane took an angry bite out of the food; he couldn’t help but notice that it tasted good.
“I did not plan this,” Ilya started, “I am not the mastermind of this plan, I am only a pawn.”
Shane swallowed the food. “You have a leader.” He said matter-of-factly.
“I have a boss,” Ilya said, “He instructed me to take you, that is it. He wants you alive, and that is what I’m doing.”
“Do you know why?”
Ilya shook his head, “No, I do not. I am only doing what is instructed of me.”
Shane nodded, finishing his sandwich in silence. It seems Ilya doesn’t want to share any more than he did, so Shane decided not to push it.
“Thank you for the food,” Shane said as Ilya took the tray back.
“Is no problem, I will be back again later for a snack.” He then left the room.
Shane gave up any plans on escaping through the room; there’s no possible way for him to do it. However, outside the room is another story. He has no idea where this place is, yes, but he can think about that later. He needs to get out of this room, but he can’t do that with his hands bound like this.
He really needs to make Ilya trust him and get him to release him from his binds.
–
Day 3
Shane is not sure how long it’s been since he was taken, but he thinks it’s day 3 now, if he’s going to use Ilya’s good mornings to count the days. Ilya brought him his breakfast, and Shane waited until he sat on the floor to start talking.
“How old are you, Ilya?” He started as he took a bite of the bacon strips.
“26,” Ilya said. So he’s a year older than Shane.
“I’m 25, but I think you know that by now. Don’t kidnappers know things about their… client?” Shane asked with a slight laugh.
Ilya didn’t laugh, “I don’t know anything about you except your name and your face.”
“Oh,” Shane said, “I guess you really are just a pawn, huh?”
“Pawn, yes,” Ilya said to him.
“Then, can I ask why you’re doing this, Ilya?” Shane said softly, trying to coax an honest answer out of his captor.
Ilya didn’t answer, and Shane accepted the silence. He would have to try harder to get an answer from him. Luckily, he had already finished eating, and Ilya took the plate and tray back.
“Thank you,” Shane said, “Will you come back?”
“To bring you lunch, yes.”
“Why don’t you stay? Are you doing anything? I’m bored, I don’t have anyone to talk to.” Shane said with a frown, he’s not an actor for nothing!
Ilya looked at him uneasily before sighing and nodding. “I will be back,” He said before leaving the room.
Shane exhaled, relaxing on the bed as he waited for Ilya’s return. He doesn’t want to admit it out loud, but he found himself relaxing a bit more with Ilya’s presence. He doesn’t trust him, not at all, but enough to see that Ilya is not much of a threat he thought of at first.
As promised, Ilya came back holding two cups. “I made hot chocolate,” He said, handing Shane one of the cups.
“Thank you,” Shane said, grabbing the cup with his bound hands. For effect, he spilled a little on himself, hissing at the heat from the liquid.
“Be careful,” Ilya said, getting the cup from Shane’s hands and putting them on the bedside table. He walked to the dresser, opening one drawer and getting a cloth to wipe Shane’s hands with.
“Sorry, the ropes are really tight, and my hands are starting to hurt,” Shane said, looking at Ilya through his lashes for more effect.
Ilya finished wiping, but he kept his hold on them. He inspected Shane’s wrist, which looked red and raw. “I cannot remove them-”
“I won’t run, I promise,” Shane said, hoping his words seemed accurate to the other.
“Shane-”
“Ilya, it hurts.” Shane whimpered.
With a sigh and a whispered word in Russian, Ilya started undoing the ropes on Shane’s wrists. He was careful in loosening the binds. Shane hoped Ilya couldn’t hear his heartbeat.
“Do not run, okay?” Ilya said quietly.
Shane didn’t answer. The moment the binds were loose, he pushed Ilya hard, making him crash to the ground. He wasted no time and stood up from the bed, almost crashing down because his legs felt like jelly. Still, he pushed himself off the ground and out the door before Ilya could even call his name again.
He saw a living room with a couch in the center, a blanket draped over it, and a single pillow. He saw another door, and he assumed it led outside, so he bolted towards it.
“Shane, stop!”
He didn’t listen; he willed himself to reach the other door, twisting the knob and thanking the Gods above that it wasn’t locked from the outside. He pulled it open and immediately hit a solid object.
It wasn’t an object, but a person.
Shane looked up, seeing a bald guy in black, looking down at him.
“Where do you think you’re going?” The guy said menacingly, and Shane scooted backwards away from him.
The guy leaned down, grabbing Shane’s leg tightly. “Let me go!” Shane exclaimed.
Ilya then jumped in front of the guy, pushing him away from Shane. He started spewing things in Russian that Shane has no idea what he’s saying at all. He was scared; he was so close to leaving. Hell, the door is still open, and Shane can see the woods. But with a guy like this standing and blocking the exit, Shane has no way of getting out.
“I undid the ropes; he did not get out by himself!” Ilya said.
When the guy turned to Shane and made his way over again, Shane was surprised when Ilya landed a blow on the other guy’s face. Ilya breathed heavily, standing guard in front of Shane.
“I have everything under control, yes? Tell that to the big guys,” Ilya said.
The other nursed his cheek, looking at Ilya with pure anger. “Next time I come back here, you know what happens,” He said before turning and walking out the door, slamming it behind him.
Shane was still shaken to his core, sitting on the floor and looking at the now closed door to his escape. Once the sound of a car starting and leaving filled their ears, Ilya crouched down and approached Shane carefully. “You okay, Shane?”
Shane just nodded, throat dry, and his brain seemed to stop working. Then a choked sob came out of his mouth, and Ilya wasted no time wrapping his arms around him.
“Is okay, I got you,” He whispered, “I will not let anyone hurt you, Shane.”
Everything started crashing down on Shane, the adrenaline wearing off, that guy scaring the shit out of him, thinking he’s about to die. The last thing he remembered was Ilya's soothing voice, before passing out.