Heath Silver
Music blared out through the smoke filled room, bodies filled with energy, swaying to the music. It was nothing new to Heath but each time it continued to shock him that it was himself singing, causing his fans bodies to just dance to his music. He had bits and pieces of different genres that he would always throw in at different time intervals just to notice the different reactions around him. He smiled, starting off a new song, strumming his guitar to match his voice. The smoke in the room had made his fingers start to itch as he craved for a cigarette and he knew he couldn’t exactly pull one out in the middle of his own show so instead he would have to wait. It was nothing new, every time he did a two hour show, he would start to crave his cigarettes but he always got passed it; and besides, absence made the heart fonder, which was why smoking after made it that more sweet.
But sooner than later his show was finished and as the final jeers died down he got off in the back of the stage, wiping his face with the towel that he had received from his manager. The lights were way too hot to be up there for hourly periods, it was bound to drive anyone mad. He pulled his wifebeater off of his shoulders, the clothing article now pretty wet from his perspiration and threw it into a pile in the corner, quickly rushing for a water bottle. The cheering was starting to go up once more, the ever persistent need of an encore pulling him back to his reality. He wanted to than anything to power smoke right then and there but he didn't have the time as his manager ushered him back on stage.
So he stumbled back on stage and with a quick salute he went back onto it for his final song, now shirtless. He hadn't quite realized it until he heard a huge cheering and then before he knew it, it was over. He sighed and walked off stage as he heard the consistent buzz of chatter start to disperse. With a few words he was out of the door, glad that he had men to take care of his things for him. Now he was tired and he ached for a cigarette more than anything and wanted to get back to his hotel room to rest. He pulled out his pack and slipped one out, not noticing how menacing the night seemed to look. Heath didn't notice things like that, his creep scale was busted beyond repair.
So imagine his surprise when he felt a needle jab into his neck. Yes, he had heard the rushed footsteps but thought nothing of them and now he had instantly regretted it. He tried to scream but nothing came out of his mouth, in fact, he was too busy watching the world sway regardless. He was passed out by the time his body hit the cement, his head caught by the man who had done the crime himself.
-X-X-X-X-
Pounding.
It's what he heard before he even opened his eyes. The monotonous sounds of his heart thud reverberating through his mind, pulsing with a vengeance. It made him want to puke and he felt like he was suffering with a horrible hangover, something that would explain his lack of memories. He leaned over, his eyes still shut to block out the sun that he knew was shining past the shitty hotel curtains and instead hit nothing. He frowned and opened his eyes, shocked to find that he had no idea where he was. Shuffling sounds around him confirmed that there was others and the smell of it made him feel like perhaps he was in a cellar? He had no idea but refused to let panic sit in before he figured everything out.
He crawled out of bed and felt an unfamiliar, slightly scratchy fabric rub against his leg. He noticed that they were different boxers than what he had been wearing before, something the gave him the creeps a lot more than he would have liked. He cussed, the noise resounding through the empty air, making it sound awkward. He looked around noticed how tiny the room actually was and the whole gravity of the situation started to freak him out. He didn't know if he was just simply stressing but what was he doing in a strange cell?
Abduction possibilities kept on popping into his mind but things like that simply wouldn't happen to him, that was affairs of the news. So instead he banged around on his cell door, wondering if he would be able to attract anyone's attention. He wanted answers and wouldn't be content until he would actually get them. "Hey, anyone in here? Hello?" He yelled out, his voice once more resounding in the empty air. It sounded dry and raspy from not drinking and the itch for a cigarette was becoming quite more demanding.
After all, he never got his smoke the night before.