Do you hear the people sing?

I was running. Fast and hard. The adrenaline ran through my veins telling me to keep running as if it depended on my life; because it did.

Singing a song of angry men

I looked back and saw nothing but I heard each sound everything. I forgot to look down and tripped over my own clumsy feet.

It is the music of the people

I knew this was the end. I was going to die.

Who will not be slaves again

The shadows overwhelmed me and something hard struck the back of my head.

I awoke to find myself unable to move. My wrists and ankles were bound to a chair and I was blindfolded. My mouth tasted metallic from blood dripping down my throat. My head hurt like hell and when I leaned my head back against the chair I could feel the matted hair was dried with more blood. I didn't dare speak let alone breathe aloud. I was too afraid. Fear and panic coursed through my body. Where was I? How long have I been here? Was I going to die? My grandmother always told me when I needed to figure something out I had to retrace my steps. So let's take this back a few steps.

8:24 am Sunday, August 8th 12 hours ago

I was already up and dressed for my job interview at Starbucks. Yeah I know not the best job but I had to continue paying my bills somehow. I was already working two jobs but the landlord boosted the rent for me so I needed another. I didn't have a large apartment room just something simple but it wasn't as cheap as it looked. I sighed and picked up my strawberry pop tart I hadn't even put in the toaster. I hadn't had time to get groceries so this was the only breakfast I'd had for days. I wolfed it down in the car as I drove to the nearest Starbucks. I didn't like coffee at all. It was an acquired taste as my mother would say but I never acquired it. Tea was more of my thing. Still a job was a job and you didn't have to like it. I just needed the money. I sat in the over sized chair and waited for the manager. The manager came in and the smell of hazelnut coffee was strong on his breathe. His name tag read Dan and I smiled politely at him. He didn't return the smile. He just looked me over, his eyes seemingly picking me apart like vultures on roadkill and then grunted.

"You've got the job girly. Just make sure you're on time and don't cause no trouble." With that he handed me some papers to sign and a uniform then went back to work.

I checked over my hours grateful they didn't overlap with my other work and would begin work tomorrow. I drove back home and changed getting ready for work at a local tattoo shop. I had always been into art as a hobby and I got lucky with scoring an easy job like tattoo. It was like art only permanent and on your body. I didn't have one myself but I enjoyed designing new ones for others. I had a few regular customers like Tyler. He had three tattoos already all done by me and we had been planning his fourth for months. The tattoo shop was closer to my apartment building than Starbucks so I walked there. I checked my watch which now read 10:14. I walked in the door and went to my station. Ben, the owner of the shop, was already there. He smiled at me and continued working on the girl sitting on his desk. I set up my station for work and waited patiently. While I waited for Tyler I pulled out my sketchbook and doodled some landscapes. He finally arrived a few minutes later and we began working on the tattoo. It was a very complex drawing that covered most of his back. I was just putting the finishing touches on it today. We had a nice conversation about his latest find at this new antique shop on the East end of the city. Tyler was an antiques dealer and was very passionate about his job. When I was done we looked it over and he was very pleased with my work. I was quite proud myself and he left satisfied. I had a few more clients and then I went home for lunch. I stopped at Panera bread cafe and got a ham and cheese on a chibata roll. I left swiftly going back to my apartment. I had plenty of time before my bartender job at club Haven.

The feeling of smooth, cold metal against my cheek snapped me out of my thoughts. I wince as the blade cut into my flesh drawing beads of blood as it moved.

"Didn't you hear me while I was speaking girl?" The voice told me my captor is male.

I shake my head slowly afraid to speak. He hits my across the face knocking my chair over. My head hits the concrete ground hard. I'd probably have a concussion. He kicks me in the stomach knocking the wind from my chest right out. I'm gasping for breath and tears roll down my face. He lifts me up by my hair so his face is right by mine but I can't see him. "You'd do well to listen when I speak to you. It's something all you women need to learn." He sighs and fixes my chair leaning it against the wall. Even though I can't see him I know something in him seems to have changed. This time instead of a knife I felt his hand glide across my cheek wiping away my tears. His touch was very different, tender instead of harsh. He ran his fingers through my hair and tsked. "This won't do. A proper lady has to keep up her looks." He began to brush my hair out taking his time with each strand being sure there were no tangles or knots. By the way his hands moved I knew there was only one explanation for his skill. He must have been an artist like me. To associate myself with a deranged person like this man was absolutely ludicrous but if I wanted a chance to survive I knew I had to figure out how he worked. He patted me on the head when he was done and moved to the other side of the room. I could hear the sound of his footsteps on the concrete floor. They rang out echoing around the room. He took the knife again and cut the ropes binding me to the chair. I crumple to the floor like a rag doll. I couldn't find the strength to stand. My body trembled with fear. He untied the blindfold and scooped me into his arms. Face to face now I could make out a little of him in the dark. His hair was shaggy and unkempt. He had very defined features and a hardened jaw line. He was tall and quite handsome for a lunatic. I couldn't see the color or his eyes but I could see something deep down inside them. I just couldn't tell what yet. As he carried me up the stairs I felt so exhausted that I fell asleep in his arms. My dreams took me back continuing the events of the previous hours.

I headed down to the club for work. It would already be open as I didn't have the first shift. I drove and parked around back with the rest of the employees and walked in. I waved to the bouncer who was a friendly woman and got to work behind the counter. I was serving drinks left and right all night. The club was pretty crowded for a Saturday night. I struck up conversation here and there. It was true what they said about a bartender being the new therapist. Only you could drink openly instead of hiding your booze in your coffee mug. I had a discussion with a pretty redhead about her boyfriend troubles. I helped out an older man with his finances and received a pretty big tip for that. I noticed at the end of the bar was a younger man in a trench coat and had a pad and pencil in front of him. I wondered if he was journalist and walked over to him curiously.

"Excuse me sir. do you want anything to drink?" I asked also noting he had nothing in front of him which would be a good ice breaker.

"Just water if you don't mind. I don't really like to drink." He smiled up at me.

He was a very good looking man and I'd be lying off my ass if I didn't say I felt something there. His smile made me smile back and I brought over the water in record time.

"Thanks." He sipped it casually.

"Mind if I ask you something?" I said.

"Not at all." He looked at me with his piercing green eyes.

"Why are you in a club with a bar if you have no intention of drinking?"

He laughed nervously. "Well this will sound lame but I like the music playlist. It kinda helps me focus on my work."

"What's your job?"

"I guess you could call me an artist of sorts. But it's nothing important really. What about you?"

"I'm sort of an artist too. I'm a tattoo artist, a bartender, and as of today I work at Starbucks."

He frowned at this. "Why would an intelligent looking girl like yourself need three jobs?"

"Paying for rent. I don't have a very large apartment room but my landlord keeps raising the price."

"I'm sorry about that."

We sat in silence for a little bit. "Hey how about you get yourself some champagne. On me, you look like you need it." He said handing me some money.

"Oh uh are you sure about that?" I didn't want to be rude but I didn't want to just take his offer greedily.

"I'm sure. You've been very sweet and I can't let that go unrewarded." He pressed the money into my hand and put his other hand over top.

I felt my stomach drop and heart flutter. I could've sworn I was blushing. "T-Thank you very much um-"

"Romano Vargas."

"Thank you Mr. Vargas." I smile at him.

"You're very welcome." He went back to his work and I went back to mine.

The song "Rule the World" by Take That began to play as I left the club. I hummed it on my way to the car. The street lamp above flickered right out and a cold breeze wrapped itself around me. I shivered and suddenly a feeling like I was being watched crept up. I turned slowly seeing a figure in the dark. I couldn't see who it was but I knew this wasn't good. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled with anxiety. I took a step towards my car and I could hear the steps of the figure. Rat-tat-tat. Each step getting closer. I took a sharp breath and ran. The last thing I remember was the clock hands by the lamppost ticking away turning 8:24.