Judas Bautista's Story

[color=teal]Judas was a rich-bitch party boy, and he was known to make an appearance at the most insane, most raunchy, and potentially illegal parties. So when he’d received the invitation to what was promised to be one HELL of a time, how could he possibly turn this away? He showed up to the appointed club at the appointed time, in designer jeans and a well-cut blazer, only to be hit over the back of the head and tossed into the back of an unmarked van. His captors had been none too gentle in the handling of him, and Judas would have loved the rough-housing, were he conscious.
He was practically chucked into the Conference Room, hitting the floor with a ‘thud’. After a short while, he came to, rubbing his head. “Ffffuck...what sort of soiree is th-”
Blindfolds, handcuffs. Obviously this was some sort of S&M shindig....Although this was probably the least sexy dungeon he’d ever been in. He was quick to get onto his feet and pace around the room, whipping out his iPhone and grunting. No service...what a fucking surprise. He seemed to be alone. Okay. So this wasn’t a party.
And the panic sets in.

Had he just been kidnapped? He was the son of a multi-millionaire, and the city was full of crackheads. It was bound to happen. Sad but true, it was only a matter of time before Judas ended up on the bad side of town for good. Jokes on them, he doubted ol’ Frank would even bother with the ransom. Judas could just see it now, his step-father opening the letter and poring it over with a glass of bourbon. A chuckle, a gulp, and then Frank would crumple the letter up and chuck it into the fireplace.
“What was that honey?” his mother would ask.
“Nothing”
And that was precisely what Judas was to his own father. Nothing.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckohfuck.” he muttered, moving around the room sporadically, attempting to coax his phone into service, but nothing was working. He reached into his back pocket and found his wallet was still there, all his cards in check...And his case.
Oh thank

Oh thank god.
Little did he know it would disappear just as soon as he fell asleep again in this fiendish place, but for now, he REALLY needed a smoke, which is what he did, removing the rolled cigarette after giving it a precursory sniff. Ah unfiltered tobacco~
A click and spark, and he was in business, drinking in the smoke like it was water.

People! There were people here, supposedly well adjusted, non-crackhead people. At least, they didn’t look like a bunch of drug addled, gibbering junkies.
“Hostage? Shit.” There went his hopes of this still being some freaky key party. He would have assumed orgy, but typically there would have been naked people around his feet at this point if that were the truth. And while there appeared to be somebody laying on the ground, he wasn’t in a state of undress....yet. Judas exhaled the smoke through his nostrils in a fine stream as Kacie sidled up to him and he grinned at the bronze beauty, taking her hand in his own, his grip steady. “Good...” a glance to his iPhone to determine the time. “...evening, beautiful. Judas Bautista, at your service.” He gave a nod to Kyle, extending the greeting to the other conscious male in the room.
He watched Jamie gawp with amusement. He tended to have that effect on people. A good several thousand well-spent. He puffed on his cigarette, unaware that Kacie didn’t appreciate his pollution.
Eric was politely ignored, considering he seemed to still be in shock, as Judas pulled out a chair and sat down.
“Alright, so what is the ‘situation’?” And even though he was in potential, terrible danger, he couldn’t help but think of Jersey Shore.

“So they are NOT looking for a ransom?” Judas inquired, obviously more than baffled by their captors’ motives. “Just all here, chosen at random. Interesting. That’s some horror movie shit, isn’t it?” His eyes continued to fall on the laid out, unresponsive Gil. “I’ve got to ask what’s up with that,” he noted as he gently reached a booted foot out to prod Gilbert’s side.
Wait a second.
“What kind of sacrifice are they asking for?” he asked, though at the core of him, he already knew the answer to the question.

He stubbed out what was left of his cigarette on an empty plate leftover from that morning’s bountiful breakfast. That was the unfortunate thing when you rolled your own cigarettes....they didn’t seem to last as long as they should, and you always ended up smoking at least three at once. But if he was going to be stuck here for a while...he’d be smart and conserve them. He could get rather unpleasant without his fix.
Which he was sure ‘they’ would LOVE.

He continued to smile at the people around him, trying to make the best out of a bad situation before he assumedly followed them out to the cafeteria for their first captive meal.

So does that mean we should move onto the next room?

“Ah, poor sap,” Judas replied, clicking his tongue in sympathy as he watched Kyle and Kacie handle Gil. He didn’t look like too much, but despite the geekboy’s height, Judas was pretty certain he could have just slung Gil over a shoulder and carried him to the bedroom that way. But the two seemed to have it well under control, and Judas couldn’t promise that nothing would happen if he were left to his own devices. Something as seemingly frail and vulnerable as the geekboy triggered the predator in the Elite.

Kacie’s hospitality was welcomed. It was a common practice for Judas to enter a party with a lovely woman in arm, regardless of whether she was aware of his persuasion or not. In the world of trust-fund snobbery, appearances were everything. And nobody took that more seriously than Judas. He surveyed Kacie top to bottom...Hmmm yes. Yes, she’d pass the test. Perhaps he’d have her on call as arm candy for the next shindig he attended.
If he ever attended one again.

Her hint of an accent intrigued him and mentally he tried to place it, vaguely reminded of family vacations that were more ‘you go play- Daddy needs some alone time’ vacations. “Lead on, m’lady.”

Also, I've got maybe an hour before i should get some sleep. gotta wake up at 4 30 to drive 2 hours to make a flight. gg canceling on me, Delta

Judas nodded, creating a virtual map in his head of the rooms, and wondering if this building wasn’t some sort of remodeled daycare, especially after seeing the bedroom which served as more of a naptime room with the colored mats on the floor. He wouldn’t be surprised to find a toybox if he dug around hard enough. As they came to the cafeteria, Judas’ head had been so stuck on the daycare track that he didn’t realize that the chairs and tables weren’t child-sized until noticing that Eric sat quite comfortably in one.
Likewise, Judas pulled up a chair and gave a glance towards the kitchen at the sounds of foodmaking.
“Entertaining...” He tapped his chin in thought, his eyes never leaving Kacie’s. “I am an actor. Not a big movie star or anything, but my face is fairly well known where I’m from. Practically a celebrity.” Hey, if you have enough money, you can buy your way into anything. And if you have enough money, you instantly become a celebrity.
Especially if you’re Judas Bautista snorting cocaine off of an escort’s ass. Not that there was any proof of that.
“I’ve got a fair amount of money too, which is what I thought our captors were after at first. Not just playing mind games.”

Judas shrugged when his mini-monologue received very little response. Guess it wasn’t entertaining enough for his present company. With a sideways glance at the bronzed beauty, he turned and sauntered down the hall back towards the room he came from, hearing footsteps in it. He happened upon both Eric and Gil and offered a nod of the head and a quirky smile.
“Good ‘morrow, chaps.”

Ah, so the geekboy was awake now was he? Judas looked Gil up and down, biting the inside of his lip as he scrutinized. He knew the man was tall, but not THAT tall. Judas was 5’11 and even then he felt a bit like a dwarf in compare. But dear god the boy could do with some sun. But considering the windows in this establishment were blacked out, it looked like they’d all become pale basement dwellers soon. Judas pushed past the two men into the conference room.
“Think its safe to enter, y’know. Since we’re all housemates now.”

Judas had been in such a state of shock he hadn’t realized how hungry he actually was. His stomach was practically gnawing a hole in himself as he turned around and regarded Kacie with a devilish smile. Her wandering eyes were all too obvious as she looked Gil up and down the same as he did. Judas removed his iPhone again to check the time, but that was all it was good for. It would be a nightmare when his battery ran out. He would have to find entertainment by some other means...

And as he made it back to the cafeteria, he found it in the form of the young, cut, and virile football player. He had to stop himself from licking his lips like a cat preparing to consume a mouse. Aww yeah, cut him a slice of that beefcake. The prettyboy took his place at the table two seats down from the jock, within decent ogling distance, but not so close as to set off the athlete’s gaydar. He’d offer to help set the table, but knew he’d get more in the way than be useful.
He’d chat it up anyway, curious as to what this ragtag bunch of commoners could possibly cook. Kraft dinner?
Judas didn’t cook, he either paid a personal (gourmet) chef or ate out.
“So, they got you too, huh?” he offered as a conversation starter.

He smirked at Eric’s observations when the man entered the cafeteria. “They might have tried to kill-proof this place, but you know...anything can be a weapon if you’re holding it right~”

“Got me thinking this was some kind of kinky party. I am massively disappointed.” Judas chuckled. “I’m Judas.”
He would be lying if he said he wasn’t having a hard time keeping his mind out of the gutter at Ant’s mention of the gym, but he remained as poker-faced as ever as the food was set before him. Okay, so it wasn’t pate or thousand-dollar caviar, but it was a lot better than he was expecting, maybe a plate bowl of Spaghettios with a garnish of parsley to ‘fancy it up’. He stabbed the ridiculous plastic fork into the naked salad and lifted it to his mouth before Gil took his little spill.

How adorable. Jamie might have been after the geekboy’s attentions for now, but she’d be a fool to count Judas completely out of the running. How could he possibly resist tormenting the socially awkward one further? Jocks were one thing to fear...Judas was on a whole ‘nother level of bad news. He didn’t remain blind to Eric’s obvious avoidance of him and made note to confront the man directly about the matter later.

Not the top-shelf quality salad, but then again, greens were greens. He speared the piece of meat before him and attempted to wheedle it into a bite-sized chunk with the bit of plastic, slightly paranoid he would snap a tine off. He wasn’t willing to take a risk, however, and he lifted the hunk off the plate with the fork and tore a piece off with his teeth like a complete barbarian. Ah food...His stomach clambered, urging him to send more down, and pronto.
“Compliments to the chef,” he commented lightheartedly.

“Glasses...” Judas repeated over another bite into the roast. “Heh.”
He ate in relative silence, not sure if further conversation with Ant would key the jock into the fact that Judas played for the other team. He didn’t want to come off as too touchy-feely, even though it took every shred of willpower he had left not to let his eyes drift downward. Another mouthful of salad down as he glanced around the cafeteria, getting that daycare vibe again. It felt mighty creepy to be an adult living where young children played...downright pedo-feeling.
“Glasses, man whores, ginger nerds, socialites....Quite a crew that’s shaping up here.”

He resettled on Jamie and Gil to watch the fireworks between the two. And by fireworks, I totally mean those cheap ones that certain states only let you buy that stay on the ground and either fizz, spew multicolored smoke, or smelled like shit. The same box that was half duds. The kind you can buy in the tents outside of Walmart.
Sssss. Splat. Nothing.
The only thing entertaining about this was the fact that Gilbert was so BAD at it. Boy really needed to learn some swag.

Eyes briefly back to Anthony. My god, those biceps. What was he doing? Right. Eating. He looked at the mangled piece of flesh and smirked. Half the fun of eating meat is hacking it up he quoted in his head before Eric snapped him out of his reverie.
“Well isn’t it obvious? They’re bored. Put a smear of society into a petri dish and watch it fester on the agar of drama. A microcosm...” he trailed off, realizing his moment of wit and trying to sound smart was really not that clever after all.
Good job, Judas.

“Ah...ah, so does this make me the spoiled brat Richie Rich in our revisited cliques? Oooh it IS just like high school. Maybe we should start singing showtunes.” He twisted his fork around in his hand before spearing his last bit of salad and shoveling it down before cracking open his own water and taking a sip. “Then a fine-assed Spanish teacher with a silly perm can make us believe in ourselves. And then we win regionals!”
Judas stopped himself there with another pull from the water bottle. He raised an eyebrow at Jamie’s cougar comment. “If you’re a cougar, you’re the most naturally attractive one I’ve seen. No fake tan, bleach blonded, Botox’d bitch.” When Judas offered compliments, you TOOK them. Theywere treasures. “So kudos to that. Wish we had wine,” he remarked as he realized he was raising a goddamned water bottle to toast Jamie on her youthful vigor.
“Please tell me there’s SOME alcohol around here...”

And then he noticed the red in Gil’s face.
“...Annnd we’re going to need a clean-up on aisle three.”

He sipped the bottle of water again before properly introducing himself with a flourish. “I’m Judas Bautista. and I own several websites and stocks that have landed me in a pretty sweet spot. I’m also a freelance actor, though it’s mostly just extra work in TV shows. I’m a trust-fund baby. Nothing too incredibly remarkable....Just luck of the draw.”

Judas had adjusted to confinement surprisingly well, if only because the company was so entertaining. Between geeks, emos, and two grade-A slices of meat, Mister Bautista was determined to have a good time. But right now, he was more determined to find somewhere to be left to his own devices, that being his iPhone, of course. He pushed open the half-closed door of the resting room, making his way in, nose glued to the screen....then he tripped over Gil.
Fortunately he managed to catch himself before hitting the ground, and even then he recovered just in time to intentionally flop onto the next mat over on his stomach, still managing to tap away at his phone without missing a single beat. While Judas was wired, he didn’t suffer the withdrawal that a lot of people his age would have when separated from their social networking, their daily photos of cats, their status updates. Judas Bautista was obsessed with one thing, and that was himself. And he was always with himself, and as long as he had himself, he would never go into fits of withdrawal. He picked at a spot underneath his left eye before concluding the message he was writing, only THEN acknowledging Gil.
“Sorry there, man. I didn’t see ya. You just kind of...” Blend into the background.
All of this was delivered with the practiced grin of a social butterfly.

“It’s fine. You don’t need to impress me.” Judas smirked in the half-dark towards Gil, watching him shuffle around and exercise futility in trying to make his lanky, stick-figure of a body occupy any less space. But Judas had plenty of room, and so would at least 3 other people if they stuck to their mats on the floor. He set his iPhone down and twisted to lay on his side, facing Gilbert and propping himself up with an elbow.
“I plan on being nothing but courteous while we’re all stuck together, even if most of these people aren’t my...usual crowd.”
And in his tone, it was obvious he meant that they were, in compare, all horrendously poor and repugnant.

“Sit, stay. Tell me about yourself, Gil. I would’ve asked sooner, buuut you were a bit preoccupied with the cougar.”

Of course the rich boy was getting amusement out of this, watching the older (he was older? really?) man squirm.

“Oh please, I watched you at dinner.” Judas replied. “It’s...cute.”
To be honest, he had to admit there was something definitely...intriguing about the geekboy. Judas would be kidding himself if he hadn’t given the boy a good ogling while he’d been laid out prone on the floor upon his arrival. Shame, while he was a nervous wreck, Gilbert’s mannerisms were endearing. And as much as he couldn’t see it, he could have been quite a cutey. Just give him a little spit polish...But Judas knew right off the bat when he was barking up the wrong heterosexual tree.
“You would make...very nerdy....legally-blind...babies.”

“Oh sure, sure, they’re nice,” Judas replied, though his nonchalance slipped into his voice. Either Judas found himself in the company of supermodels on a daily basis....or he was a complete ‘mo. But he didn’t expect Gilbert to catch on. Dear god, Gil would have a heart attack knowing that there were more than just the girls that maybe, in a perfect world, wanted his dick.

“But, you can’t win a girl over being a mousey thing like you are now. Or else some assertive, handsome shmuck is gunna sweep her right off her feet and take her far, FAR away.” He pulled himself up to sit next to Gil and then clap a hand on his shoulder in a friendly gesture. “So shape up, buttercup. You don’t have to actually own 13 speedboats to act like ya do! A little confidence goes a long way, Gilbo buddy.”

He glanced at the queued post from Karl on the phone still in Gil’s hand, briefly reading it over. Goddamn, Karl sounded...well....like somebody Judas would totally bend over and take it from. No shit. He bit his lip and exhaled through his nose to stifle the images rising to the forefront of his mind of a muscular, ex-marine of a man with strong arms and a massive...
RIght where were we again?
“Oh! Uh...Why pretend to be this Karl of yours? Just be him. You’re stuck here, you don’t have to deal with what the rest of society thinks. This could be a good thing for you, y’know? A chance to build your ego up. A test-run! Or a beta version...” That’s what geeks knew best, right?
He should have been a goddamned motivational speaker.

“Not with an attitude like that you won’t!” Judas pat Gil on the shoulder again, half-amazed that the contact didn’t make the geekboy try to shrink even further into the floor. Okay, he had to admit there was something a hint pathetic about pretending to be somebody else....He felt sorry for Gil. But at the same time, Judas admitted he had been and still was just as pathetic. If he got right down to it, the Judas now was the ‘Karl’ of his teenage-self, the idealized version of himself: handsome, socially adept, the life of the party. Everybody liked him, or at least, he assumed everybody liked him (or if they didn’t, their blip fell off his radar entirely). The 23-year old was everything his 16-year old self had wanted. And it was good.
But every once and again, the younger Judas would poke his head up and speak words of reason. What have you done to yourself?

But those musings were tapped into his phone and locked away, forgotten as soon as they came. Then he wound up here, where it felt like high school all over again. All those doubts slowly crept their way to the front of his mind...but he wouldn’t let it show. To show would be weakness, and he had it in him to not SHOW weakness around here. Not with nameless people watching every room, waiting to exploit them.
And that had been written into his own iPhone. He didn’t keep a journal, but this was the next best thing he had.

“You just gotta work at it. Fff, even I wasn’t born this suave.” Or with this nose. “Took years to get me where I am now, as far as swag is concerned.”

“You don’t have to worry about competition from me.” Judas reassured. “I just want to make it out of here alive.” The last bit of his sentence felt unsettlingly grim, an unhealthy reminder that even if they returned to their lives....some of them would NOT. Such was the nature of the game. “And in that respect, it would be good for you to show that there’s more to Gilbo than something they can just walk all over.” Literally. “Make yourself important...so that you’re NOT expendable.”

He turned his phone off to conserve battery and felt the weight of his cigarette case in his back pocket. He could REALLY go for a smoke right now, but he refrained, given Gilbert’s apparent asthma. He’d remove the case regardless, flicking back the corner to cause a long lick of flame to shoot up before disappearing, then reappearing again with another click.
“Do it? Hmmm...start with listing things you DO like about yourself, and play up those strengths. Doing something you’re good at makes you feel better.” Click.
Or you could buy it all, like Judas had. c:
"So what are you good at, Gilbo?"

And so, the challenge begins.
“No, you don’t have to worry about competition from me because....” he paused, trying to think up a half-decent reason besides the obvious. Judas was still very-closeted, not because he feared the responses of his peers, who were rich, self-serving liberals like himself, but because he feared news would leak its way out West to his step-father. Bye-bye trust fund. “You just don’t.”

His somewhat overactive imagination took the ‘food-chain’ imagery all too literally, imagining majestic lions with the jocks’ faces, everybody else being some form of Serenghetti herbivore, Jamie a zebra, Kacie a giraffe....and Gil?....Nowhere to be found...because he was the grass. The lowest link on the chain.
Judas was a hyena, a scavenger, trailing after the lions and picking up their scraps. But hyenas would sometimes eat lion cubs. It worked...kind of. Except now he was a baby eater.
Being named Judas in a conservative neighborhood, he might as well have been one according to them...(And for decency’s sake, he went by ‘Jude’ instead)

But that was behind him now.
“Pfff, I’m not as perfect as you make me out to be. Nobody is.” He scooted his way back towards his mat and sprawled out to lay on his back. “You’re probably better with technology than I am. Buildin’ shit...Thinking all logical and what. The brains of the operation, no?”
A flautist? Really?
“...Chin up, dude.” Judas finally concluded, frowning at Gil’s slump of self-defeat. “I’m sure we’re all safe til the food runs out. Plenty of time to think of something.”