Author's Note: I went watching Kingsman AGAIN this sunday and it's still as AMAZING AS THE FIRST TIME, HOLY SHIT! O.O

Enjoy this next chap and Review please ^^

Lest it May Mar your Fortunes

1998, London

Her limbs trembled. She opened her mouth wide just like her eyes, though, no sound escaped her throat and as her head fell back, she exhaled once more, before nothing but emptiness filled her look. Not the slightest move was conducted by her flaccid body anymore.

The silence that followed was cut short by a man's loud voice: "Okay, places everyone!"

The dead woman blinked, moistened her dry eyes, since keeping them open for so long made them burn fiendishly, especially when the entire stage lighting was directed at them. One of the obstacles a theatre actor had to deal with, which was why she endured every single time they rehearsed this scene.

"Vivian?"

"Victoria."

"You need to lengthen dying even more, y'know, for dramatic effect. Try it in slo-mo.", the play's director, a middle-aged man with a preposterous fluff of a beard all over his square chin, ignored her correction completely.

"Slo-mo? Wouldn't that look ridiculous in a-"

"And David,", he already turned to the adolescent next to her, not deigning to look at her anymore. "watch your steps. Get closer to her and stab her with as much force as you can. She's not made of glass."

While he spoke, Victoria desperately tried not to glare at him, rather concentrated on gathering her props, two fake pipe wrenches. She would have preferred a traditional fencing bout over this farce of a duel, however, she could most probably say good bye to this idea in a modern remake of King Lear of an amateur theatre. All her suggestions for improvements - all of them thoroughly reasoned - got rejected promptly, just like now, although the whole thing was already so twisted that the original Victoria admired was hardly recognisable within it. Yes, they sometimes even changed Shakespeare's famous lines to 'make it easier to understand'.

She shouldn't complain, though. Considering that it was a really small production and she didn't even hold an all too major role - she played a transgender version of Edgar - the fee was quite impressive. In relative terms of course. It was nowhere near enough to subsist on, which was why Victoria hurried to get herself up for her second job now after rehearsals were over.

She was just back-combing her dark hair, pulling it into a tight ponytail in hopes of looking elegant enough for her boss therefore, when David, her acting partner, approached her with a smirk.

"Slo-mo, eh?"

She simply responded with a sigh.

"Can't believe you actually did it. If this pillock demanded something that stupid of me, I would've told him to fuck off and quit. Why'd you do it anyway?"

"Because I try to give 100 percent here."

He laughed. "It's just a crappy little play noone's gonna watch anyway!"

"It doesn't matter. I'm devoted to every role I'm playing. That's called professional."

"That's called bullshit.", he retorted, raising one brow at her and folding his arms in front of his chest. "I, for my part, choose to not waste my potential and energy for such a play."

He kept talking, but Victoria didn't listen anymore. He wasn't worth the ire, she already figured that out the first time they met a few weeks ago. David was the kind of actor who, despite lacking a higher education and therefore proper practice, which she was able to obtain fortunately, believed his skills to be one of a kind and, indeed, they were. One of an abysmal kind. He only aimed for awards and fame, taking advantage of his good looks, without which he certainly wouldn't be able to land one single acting job, while Victoria aimed for... Actually, she wasn't even sure what her goal concerning acting was. She simply enjoyed it. Slipping into the character of another person, going on imaginary adventures she would never be blessed with... That was what made her happy, that was what fulfilled her.

People kept telling her, in an accusing tone most of the time, she was just trying to escape normal life, though, what would be so bad about that? There were the ones who felt comfortable with the ordinary and there were the ones who didn't. Victoria belonged to the latter, which was why she constantly felt uneasy. The extraordinary tarried these days, especially in a quite secure country like the UK. Not that she wished to go on a trip to Congo or Afghanistan - she might be adventurous, but not insane - but nothing was wrong with a little excitement here and there. Acting offered her this exactly and this was why she loved it.

Unless she had to work with such arrogant, unschooled pricks like David.

"You have to change your attitude, or you'll never gonna get your dream job.", he ended his monologue. Victoria didn't reply anything, just stuck out her middle finger closely to his nose, conjuring an annoyed look on his face, and left the building.

Awkwardly, Victoria entered the house, struggling to keep her balance with all those grocery bags in her arms. Uttering a "Whoosh" she gently kicked the door close behind her. She called for her mother, didn't expect an answer, though, and didn't get one either. Filling the fridge in the kitchen with the items she'd just purchased, she looked back upon the time when it was not hers but the housemaid's job to get and cook food, which was only about three years ago, when she was still attending university, and in such moments, being extremely tired after 12 hours of work, she missed being cared for without having to lift a finger. However, it had been her own decision to lead this sort of life.

When she discovered her passion for acting, she had thought it wouldn't be too difficult to reconcile that, the financing of her appartment and the rest of her life and her studies, but, oh, how wrong she'd been. Shortly afterwards she'd already suffered from sleep deprivation, making her abandon journalism in favour of the dramatic arts, which she'd decided to fully concentrate on, then had to move back to her mother in default of ability to afford living on her own. Since she had wanted to maintain her independence, though, she'd offered her mother to pay rent - only a fraction of what she'd paid for her appartment before - whereupon they had agreed on this arrangement: Victoria would not have to pay rent, as long as she kept the house, and the young woman took this 'contract' seriously, always fulfilling her tasks conscientously, just like she did now.

She strolled back to the foyer, grabbed her bag she'd left on the floor there and entered the living room.

The cream-coloured walls and furniture almost seemed white in the blazing light of the lustre, suffusing its entire environment. The wooden cocktail table between the two sofas and the black armhair framed with gold merely were in contrast to the bright rest, and so was the old woman sitting in the latter and looking up to the TV attached to the upside of the chimney across from her. Her pink sweater, featuring two cats playing with a ball of wool, clashed with the elegance around her, but, seemingly, she couldn't care less.

"Hey nan, is mom still in her meeting?"

The old woman nodded, not taking her gaze from whatever show she was watching.

Fetching the few magazines she'd lifted from the hotel reception she worked at from her bag, Victoria said: "I brought you a bit more reading material. Did you eat yet?"

"The pasta bake you made a couple of days ago.", her grandmother responded after a moment had passed with a croaky, high-pitched voice.

"Didn't think it'd still be good..."

The old woman shrugged. "In my days we had much less savoury food on hand." As Victoria turned to leave the living room, her grandmother finally averted her eyes from the screen. "Don't you want to take a seat and watch a bit TV together?"

"Sorry, nanna, I have to learn my lines." Before she could stop herself from doing it, she added in an amused tone: "I'd be glad to practise with you, though."

The woman in the armchair growled. "You know that I don't want anything to do with your actress fuss."

Victoria sighed. "Gosh, nan, I was just kidding..."

"Every single day I try to bring you to reason, but you won't listen..."

Rolling her eyes, Victoria walked back to the entrance hall and ascended the staircase on its right, until she couldn't hear her grandmother's grousing anymore.

It's always the same old story. 'You didn't graduate for that', 'That has no prospects', 'Get a real job'. Her grandmother even went so far as to tell her to consider being some kind of charlady at a post office once, just because that's what her position was, when she was younger. She was absolutely unsympathetic to acting, viewed it as vain and inferior. It simply boggled her mind that mental and emotional work could be even more exhausting than physical one. Victoria's mother, on the other hand, was more open-minded, after all she as a business woman naturally set great value to cognitive skills, and, in fact, she had been very supportive, at first. But after three years of bad success her impatience had made her a bit sceptical towards Victoria's objectives. And the perpetual nagging of her grandmother, who lived with them for quite some time now, wouldn't mend matters either.

Her words still resounded in Victoria's mind - sometimes her shield against the insults left much to be desired - as she paced up and down her room with the play's script in her hands. Lightly, she shook her head. She just couldn't concentrate when being all churned up inside. With a hiss she threw the script onto her bed, shortly followed by herself.

Her cheek was pressed against the pillow. Victoria eyed the wall opposite to her, which was stuck all over with notes having motivational quotes and sayings on them. Indeed, there were times when those cheered her up, gave her the energy to pick herself up and continue learning her lines or whatever work she was doing at the moment, now, however, was not such a time. No energy boost came, just a tingling sensation that rushed through her tired body, getting comfortable on the bed.

A shrill tone broke her state of relaxation.

Quickly, she took the heavy phone from her bed stand. "Hello?"

"Table's reserved. Wanna go out?"

Victoria stared at the ceiling for a second.

On the one hand, she was incredibly tired, simply wanted to wrap up in her blanket and sleep, but on the other hand going out might lift her spirits. Especially going out with him.

A smirk spread across her lips.

"Ready to go."

Victoria had met Brian a few weeks ago and they simply hit it off. Not least because the director had offered her a role in his next commissioned piece Don Giovanni. Though, Victoria was not that kind of girl that let herself get wrapped around someone's finger for some fantastic job, which it was, no, she wanted to get to know him first and so they began dating. This now was their 4th rendezvous and, sitting next to him in his car now, calmed her more than she'd have expected.

He listened to her talk about her awful day while he drove, glancing at her every now and then, since his eyes rather fixed on the road in front of them.

"Slow-motion? In a theatre?"

"That's exactly what I thought! And I wanted to tell him, but he wouldn't let me."

Brian grunted. "Stubborn douchebag... A good director is amendable for advice and rehearses a scene as often as it takes to make cast and crew feel comfortable with it."

"Oh, I so look forward to working with you..."

"But... you know it's just a minor role?", he said, looking at her with a bit of concern.

She laughed. "Sure! The main characters are reserved for those who can actually sing! It absolutely stands to reason!"

"You can sing, too."

"But not like them. I'm happy with my role, don't-" She frowned. "Uhm... Shouldn't you have turned off at that exit?"

"Well, no, I got a call earlier. Need to meet some clients before we go to the restaurant, but, don't worry, our table's reserved til 11:30. We'll definitely be finished by then." He placed his hand on her arm in a soothing gesture, making her smile again.

Meet some clients... They're probably active at the theatre as well, maybe some producers or other directors. If Victoria managed to make a lasting first impression on them, it could open even more doors for her than Brian could, which was why she instantly checked her makeup in the wing mirror. Simply waiting for being discovered was lazy and pointless and there was nothing wrong with a little self-made career boost. 'Man forges his own destiny.', said one of the notes in her room and Victoria would definitely not let this golden opportunity slip.

Perhaps the 'golden' before the 'opportunity' had been exaggerated. Victoria had expected a fancier place to meet, maybe an elegant house like her mother's or another restaurant. Instead, Brian parked the car in front of a bedraggled, abandoned looking warehouse.

"That's... it?", she asked hesitantly. She possibly overlooked the actual meeting place, hidden somewhere behind this... absurdity.

"Yup.", Brian destroyed her hopes, unbuckling his belt. When he saw her expression, though, he laughed. "It's a depository for film props, don't have a cow! Do I look like a serial killer or something?"

She smirked a little, finally finding a bit of her courage again. "Guess that's exactly what a serial killer would say."

He laughed again and got out of the car, motioning her to do the same.

A moderate breeze flew around them, making Victoria wrap her coat tighter around her waist, but this was not the only reason she did that. She wasn't scared - she was no chicken, not in the slightest - but the dimmed anteroom they entered now, filled with damp air, send a chill down her spine. Such a rundown environment made her feel uneasy, probably just because she wasn't used to it. However, she didn't want to convey being spoiled, so she didn't hesitate to follow Brian into the main hall, which was well-lit fortunately.

"Hullo, folks!", Brian shouted through the vast room, wherein numerous shelves strung together. The small circle of four men in the front broke, as they turned to them. They all wore threadbare jeans and old rainjackets, two of them had a scrubby beard, one of the others, who stepped a bit forward now, was bald.

"Brian." Although the man's voice was soft, his tone didn't hold a gleam of kindness in it.

All thoughts on grabbing a chance and climbing the career ladder were already forgotten. This whole situation gave Victoria the creeps. She didn't know what it was, but it certainly was not a meeting of theatre people or filmmakers or artists in general. Brian obviously had his secrets - maybe he was a drug addict and those his dealers? - and Victoria didn't know why he wanted to share them with her. She didn't want to know about. She just wanted to go home now, simply turn around and walk off, however, turning her back on those strangers was out of question for her. Indeed, it was prejudiced towards lower classes, which those stern looking men probably belonged to, to believe them to be criminals or something similar simply by their appearance, but she, who'd never been involved in any back door deal, just couldn't help it, which was why she slowly, and hopefully imperceptively, went to stand behind her companion.

"How have you all been in the meantime? It's been freezing cold the last days, innit?"

"We're not here to make small talk. Do you have the money or not?", the bald man responded in a strong irish accent.

"Well... no, but-"

"You violate our agreement again?"

"No, no, no! I don't, I don't, believe me!" Brian, holding his hands up in defence, spoke so fast, Victoria would fear he could stumble over his own words, if she wasn't concentrated on not freaking out. What the hell did she get into here? "I know our acquaintance had proceeded in an unfortunate way recently, due to my inability to repay you, but I landed a great directing job lately, whereby I'll be able to give you your money in not more than two days or so. With interest!"

"We want our money now, you know that only too well."

"I do, I do, and I will pay you as soon as I have it and to prove my goodwill I brought you a little gift."

There Victoria felt a hand grab her right arm tightly, before Brian already yanked her forward.

"BRIAN, WHAT THE-"

"By way of pledge, you understand."

She tried to break away, tried to loosen his grip, while the man in front of them eyed her shortly. "I admit that is a nice offer..."

However, Brian couldn't listen to him at the moment, was too busy attempting to get Victoria under control by wrapping his arm around her body, but with a kick against his shin she prevented him from doing so and dealt a blow to his larynx that wasn't as hard as she intended, but apparently hard enough. A cawing sound escaped his throat and tears welled up in his eyes, but Victoria didn't pay attention to any of it, had only one thought in her mind: Run. And so she did.

"Get her.", she heard the man tell another, as she reached the door they'd come through earlier.

She desperately wished she wouldn't wear heeled boots, as they hampered running, but she couldn't concentrate on that now. The only thing that mattered was getting away, find a save place somewhere, find groups of people, policemen, someone, which wasn't easy at this hour, and still she dashed over the car park with everything she got, pumping all her energy into her legs. Her heart pounded strongly in her chest, making her hear her own pulse in her ears, though, unfortunately, this was not the only sound that reached her mind.

Wide-eyed she took a quick look over her shoulder. One of the bearded men followed her and, taking far bigger steps than she did, he slowly caught up.

"HELP!", she cried out as loud as she could, in hopes of reaching anyone around, although she couldn't spot anybody in the dark of the night. "PLEASE, HELP!"

No reply.

The steps behind her came closer and closer.

Maybe if she zigzagged, she could lose him and then... No, that's silly! She'd even simplified it for him by doing that.

She just couldn't think straight, couldn't make up a plan. The adrenalin rushing through her veins made her body work flat out, but not her brain. The only thing that came to her mind was making use of the moment of surprise and, since time to overthink this idea was running out, she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks, spun around and let her foot shoot up, directly into the chest of her follower. He was thrown back, hit the ground hard and, before he even had the chance to groan, Victoria already set off, but there another man rushed her off her feet.

Screaming, she struggled against him on the ground. As soon as he got through her arm-waving, the man on top of her squeezed a pungent, sweet smelling cloth over her nose and mouth. She wanted to yank it off, wanted to press her thumbs into the attacker's eyes and kick him off her with her knee, letting her fists ruin his face completely, however, her limbs didn't play along, slowly became numb. A ringing began to sound in her ears. And then everything went black.