So here's the deal: I don't like these kind of stories. I find them stupid, usually poorly written, and the plot is WAY overdone. So then I was all, "I wonder if I can write one that isn't bad?" And then, of course, I HAD to try it. So here's my Clique hostage situation. Pairings will unravel, along with the storyline. Read and figure that out yourself. The italics at the beginning are based in the future. They are Massie talking to her psychiatrist.

"That night was crazy. I mean how quickly everything can change. We were drinking. We were happy. Damn, we thought we had it all. And then they arrive and, I don't know, it just scared the shit out of us. We had never known anything but money and fun, and suddenly we were hoping we wouldn't get shot."

****

"I can't believe we had to come to my house. You guys have good places too!" Massie yelled, leading the way to her newly renovated basement. They'd finished it so she'd have a good place to hang with her friends, when she complained to her parents that when the guys came over, there wasn't room to do what they wanted. It now had a projector, bigger than any plasma TV on the market, and a giant c-shaped couch with a round coffee table in the middle. Inez had stocked the fridge behind the bar with every different kind of beverage.

The renovation hadn't just been in the basement. Her parents also upgraded the security system, adding locking systems and interlocking metal bars that could secure every window, door, and/or vent. Her father's office had the monitors, with high-def views of every room, courtesy of the new surveillance cameras. Every room could be watched, with the exception of bathrooms and bedrooms. It bugged her, with having to turn off the camera in the basement constantly so she could drink with her friends, since her dad loved to watch over the weekend footage for any disgraceful stuff she might be doing.

Cam grinned, playfully bumping her with his elbow. "C'mon, Mass, didn't you say you found the key to the liquor cabinet?"

She giggled. He was right. Her parents had no creativity, slipping it in with the spare car keys. Stupid. They didn't even think of the whole security system themselves, instead enlisting in the help of some professional.

"And," Derrick said, joining them, "they're gone. So we have this whole place to ourselves."

She walked over to the bar, unlocking the cabinet behind it swiftly, then assessed the situation. "Right you are, Derrick. Now, what do we all want?"

Soon, it was crowded by the bar with all of them, mixing up screwdrivers and seven-and-sevens and rum-and-cokes, adding way too much vodka than they could usually handle.

"Okay, we all have to try not to overdrink. Seriously, I don't need anyone puking on the new carpet. And we are ONLY watching a movie. No partying!"

They chuckled at the last time they had a party at Massie's place, which was discovered the next morning when her parents returned home and heard from the next-door-neighbors that Massie had, "had a good time". They all made a point of only arriving in two cars from now on, parking them in the garage so the neighbors couldn't spy.

"What are we watching anyway?" Kemp asked, raising his eyebrows.

"None of your cheesy '80s porn, if that's what you're wondering," Massie said with an eyeroll. The guys laughed, giving her high-fives.

"I told you guys," Kemp protested, "I only did that when I was thirteen. I thought I was cool."

"And apparently you still do," Massie giggled, getting more high-fives.

Chris shook his head. "She got you, dude."

Kemp sighed. "But seriously. What are we watching?"

They all were silent, thinking about what they wanted to see most. Massie had just about every movie imaginable, along with early copies of some flicks still in theaters.

"How about... an old Die Hard flick?" Plovert said hopefully. The guys smiled.

"Haven't seen that in a while," Cam said softly, then turned to Massie with his "begging" face. "Pwease, Massie?"

She looked at the girls. "Don't mind a little action, do you, girls?"

They all looked kind of annoyed, but nodded anyway. "Fine," they all said dejectedly.

"Someone come and help me find it. I think it's in the living room upstairs."

Kristen raised her hand eagerly. "I'll do it!"

Massie linked arms with her. "Alright, girly, let's go. You guys don't burn down my basement while we're gone!"

They guys laughed lightly and then all ran to the couch, jumping into it and grabbing sufficient numbers of suede pillows to lean against.

Then she heard the doorbell.

"I wonder who's here," Massie mumbled, pulling Kristen along.

"Probably some LBR who thinks they can crash your party," she said with a laugh. Massie nodded.

"Probably."

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, she peeked out the window quickly, seeing a FedEx truck parked outside.

"They don't deliver this late. They don't. I just..." she couldn't explain the weird feeling stirring in her gut. The doorbell rang again, jarring her from her thoughts.

"Coming," she said and whipped it open, a bored expression on her face.

The man smiled, then rudely stepped in, causing her to back up, trying to keep her personal space personal.

"Um, hi," she said in a sharp voice, giving him a once-over. Not the typical delivery-man, that was for sure. Black shoes that looked like they would could take a beating or two. Dark jeans, not high-end but definitely not cheap. Not the dorky shorts that they usually arrived in. He didn't smile, instead reached into his back pocket. She narrowed her eyes. He was reaching for a pen. Right? To sign his clipboard. Except he didn't have a clipboard. Or a package.

She stared at the piece of twisted metal and lead that he held in his hand, pointed at her face.

He grabbed her arm, taking advantage of the fact that she was stunned by the gun, turned her around quickly, and she felt it press hard against the back of her head.

"Now you need to tell me-" he stopped suddenly, narrowing his eyes when he saw Kristen, the DVD case in her hands. "Shit. Shit... stupid fucking Pete. Pete!"

Another guy ran in, also brandishing a gun, looking wildly around at his surroundings. "Nice place. I love the decorating." He caught sight of Kristen. "And who is this gorgeous creature?"

The first guy shook his head. "You said you were watching this place. You said she was alone." When he said "she", he waved the gun at Massie, making her flinch at the feeling of the gun moving along her scalp.

Pete looked confused. "I didn't see any other cars. Only that Lexus she drives around. Nothing else. I took a break but there aren't any other cars!"

Massie trembled, trying to block out the conversation they were having. This would be fine. Her dad would make sure she got out alive. They'd get all the money they wanted. She only hoped that they would at least let the others out safely.

"So Massie," said the voice, cold, yet lined with humor. "Any other friends?"

She looked out of the corner of her eye, seeing Kristen, Pete laying a hand on her shoulder and pressing his gun against her back, making her squirm.

"Everyone!" she heard the man behind her yell. "I need you all in here, and bring your shit!"

She let out a shaky breath, concentrating at the obviously dire task at hand. "There's eight more of us."

The gun was pressed harder, and her eyes were pinched as tears began to gather. "Sounds like fun."

Continue? Delete immediately? C'mon, people, I am really nervous about this story. I need to know what you think.