The day Ryan Evans was 'kidnapped' (ugh, he hated that word – he was not a kid) had started off as the best day of his life. He should have figured something absolutely tragic was going to happen. He had never been very lucky.

It was a Wednesday in early April and he had started his morning off in the shower, which was a fairly normal way to start any day. It went from normal to rather memorable, however, as he had managed to come up with a rather stirring fantasy involving several scantily clad baseball players and imaginative uses for their incredibly muscled bodies, even though his brain was usually too sleep-fogged in the mornings for such an activity. This all had the wonderful result of him exiting the steamy bathroom more refreshed than usual, and with a rather optimistic outlook on the day ahead of him.

School had been painless. No tests, no anxiety over unfinished homework, and a substitute for his math teacher. Really, it couldn't have gone better.

He was in such a good mood that he had decided against riding home with his sister, and instead chose to walk. It was April, and the New Mexico heat wasn't overwhelming yet, and Ryan thought he should enjoy it while it lasted.

This is probably the point in the story where you would expect he got kidnapped, but no, the day actually hadn't even gotten to its greatest point yet. You see when Ryan made it home (perfectly safely, not a kidnapper in sight) he walked into the kitchen to find fresh baked chocolate chip cookies waiting for him on the table. And that was only the first great thing waiting there for him. There was also a giant envelope with a pink sticky note right on top.

Ducky!

A package this big can mean only one thing, darling! I'm so very proud of you! I'm out getting things ready for tonight's celebration dinner but I had Ella make your favorite…expect me at six.

With presents!

Love,

Mommy

Sure enough, she had been exactly right. Everyone knew what getting the "big envelope" from a college meant. It meant you were accepted, and Ryan's envelope was no exception. It was big and white and inside he found a glossy purple folder from NYU and within that, a letter detailing his acceptance on fancy thick paper that had a watermark and everything.

The knowledge that he had gotten into the college of his dreams washed over him at all once and Ryan had to sit down. He knew he had the theater experience to make his application sufficiently promising to an admissions officer, but after a year of guidance counselors going on about 'reaches' and 'safeties' and all the horror stories of kids with perfect SATs, 4.0 grade point averages and thirty extra curricular activities getting rejected from their top choices it all had seemed like such a crap shoot.

And then something even sweeter hit him -- that being the blissful realization that for the next four and a half months he was absolutely obligation free. School was essentially over. Yeah, he had to show up to class, but it mostly involved watching movies that related to the class' subject matter in the vaguest of ways. Just last week they had watched Finding Nemo in biology class, and starting on Monday they would be watching March of the Penguins.

He was also fortunate enough to not need a summer job. He'd heard those could be totally miserable, and yeah most of his friends had them and they seemed okay, but he was still glad he'd never have to find out for himself.

Nope, nothing was standing in his way. He was just free. To do whatever the hell he wanted.

And the first the Ryan planned to do with that freedom was to spend an afternoon playing Guitar Hero and eating really unhealthy food. He wasn't going to stop until someone pried the plastic guitar from his cold, dead, cheeto-stained fingers.

Right about when Ryan had gotten five stars on "Reptilia" for the third time was when he heard someone moving around downstairs. Despite his earlier mental insistence that only death could keep him from playing Guitar Hero well into the night, he recalled his mother had made mention of presents in her note. So, he didn't even bother to pause the game. He just tossed the plastic guitar across the room and went barreling down the staircase, propelled by thoughts of brand new hats and maybe that vest he had seen when he had been out shopping with his mom the other day that came in a really exciting shade of cerulean.

Unfortunately, upon entering the foyer, he was not greeted with his mother weighed down by shopping bag upon shopping bag. Instead, and rather frighteningly so, there were three men dressed entirely in black, faces obscured by ski masks. It was actually kind of cliché. Ryan was going to make mention of it, but when he opened his mouth only two words came out.

"Oh, shit."

Author's Notes: Yeah, so this is just a bit of a teaser, to gauge interest. The idea might be too cracktastic, but if there is interest I have the plot for a 5 part series (with this being the prologue). Please let me know what you think!