"Hello, son." Nathan rolled his eyes once hearing his dad's voice, "Seeing how everything is working smoothly, Mark and I are almost done with the finishing touches."
"Okay, what the hell are you expecting me to do this time?" Warren read aloud, trying his best to sound like Nathan.
"I'm needing you to throw a party this weekend and make sure this adolescent named, Kate Marsh, arrives to this one." His dad chuckled, sounding as though he couldn't wait to grasp her firmly in his clutches.
"What success are you getting out of this one this time?" Warren questioned with a firm, growling tone as though putting effort into holding back his anger like Nathan would normally do.
"Oh, you'll see once you bring her to us." His dad responded with a sound of content, "I'll give you more information once you bring her to us. I have to go. Don't disappoint me."
"Yeah... whatthefuckever." He groaned with annoyance as he hung up.
Nathan sighed deeply once Warren hung up, dropping the notebook and pen to the floor as though falling weak. He slumped back on the couch, resting his head on the back as he covered his face with his arms with a loud groan from his frustration. Nathan felt Warren sit beside him, hearing him clear his throat, signalling it's his time to come forward on what's going on.
"So, why is Kate involved in this?" Warren asked, awaiting an answer.
"...Marsh isn't the only one that's involved in this..." Nathan spoke weakly, trying to keep himself composed from his mixed emotions of frustration and sadness.
"What do you mean?" Warren asked, wanting clarification.
"Rachel Amber, Chloe Price, Brooke Scott, Stella Hill, Courtney Wagner, Samantha Myers... and Victoria Chase..." Nathan began, "All victims of that dickwad of a dad and that sick fucker's twisted way of photography they both happen to call art... or whatever the fuck they call it. That dick I don't even want to call dad uses it as blackmail while Jefferson uses it as his so-called masterpieces of his hes been using the past three years." He sighed deeply, peeking over at Warren, wondering how he's reacting to the explanation.
So that's why Nathan wasn't acting like himself at that last party... Warren thought to himself, "This has been going on forthree years?"
Nathan nodded, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "Samantha Myers was the very first..." The adolescent began, "The first that asshole handed over to me."
"What do you mean, handed over to you?" Warren asked, perplexed by the statement.
"He tried to make me join him and Jefferson on taking pictures of... of the teenage girls that attend Blackwell Academy at their most idiotic, vulnerable, and/or whore-like state whether they're the innocent type or not. If they're wasted, smoking dope, shooting up, or snorting anything that'll hit them and lead them to leaving reality for the time being, leading them to do stupid shit, well then those are just bonuses for those two assholes." Nathan closed his eyes, trying to stay calm so he can ignore the countless memories of what has happened the past three, almost four years, "I tried to back out of this shit after taking photo's of Sam, but right after that, they had me right in their grasps."
"Why did you do it?" Warren asked.
"Do what?" Nathan glanced over.
"Why did you take photo's of her in the first place?" His voice became a bit sharp as he growled faintly.
"Well, what the fuck did you expect me to do?" Nathan scoffed, "I was gripped tightly by those two assholes, practically threatened and then a camera was shoved in my hands. It was either life or death at that point, so I had no. Fucking. Choice." The teen turned toward Warren, glaring sharply at him, "Which would you have chosen, Graham? Hm?"
"Alright already, I'm sorry... goodness." Warren held up his hands, scared by the sudden glare and sharp tone.
"Christ..." Nathan covered his face with his hands and slid them down, feeling exhausted from anxiety, "I've tried thinking of ways to put an end to this shit, but it all leads to consequences." He sighed deeply, "Just because I show anger and become aggressive does not mean I have the will to go further."
"What do you mean by that, Prescott?" Warren looked over at him with furrowed brows.
Nathan inhaled deeply and sighed with a huff before responding, "The actual reason why I was given that gun was not to defend myself, but to... to threaten and/or kill if necessary..." He closed his eyes tightly, biting the inside of his mouth after admitting the main use of the gun.
"Are you fucking serious?!" Warren bolted up, shocked by the sudden confession.
Nathan nodded slowly, "I keep it on me at all times because I was told never to leave it anywhere anyone could find it..." He opened his eyes slowly, examining all over the room, resting his head on his hands, "That's why it's in the vest right now." The teen pointed out.
"What the fuck?!" Warren pulled it out and instantly dropped it as though it was something that could burn his hands.
"For Christ's sake, Graham! Be careful with that! There are times where I don't have the safety on!" Nathan picked it up, checking out the gun.
"I'm sorry... I just... I can't for the life of me carry a gun." Warren held up his hand, his eyes landing straight on the gun with a look of discomfort.
"Well, I'm sorry to inform you, but you have to whether you want to or not." Nathan stood up and placed it back in Warren's vest once checking out every part of it.
"Why do I have to carry it?!" Warren stepped back looking down at his vest.
"For fuck's sake, Graham! The safety is on. There's only one bullet in it. I checked every bit and piece of it. You're safe! There's nothing for you to cry over!" Nathan growled with frustration, "As long as you don't do anything with it and keep it out of sight, all will be golden. Understood?"
"Okay... alright..." Warren looked down, still feeling uncomfortable being armed.
"Understood?!" Nathan repeated himself, expecting Warren to repeat, too.
"Understood. Goodness..." Warren sighed deeply, then looked over at Nathan, "So, what are we having to do now?"
"We have to go meet Bowers that's staying at the beach. Then you're going to have to talk to Vic on helping out with the invitations. Then you're having to convince the unvalued one's you know so much about to join the party." Nathan picked up the notebook and pen to write down instructions.
"Bowers? As in Frank Bowers? The drug dealer?" Warren asked for clarification.
"Yep... the only dealer in this town, dumbass." Nathan scoffed.
"Wait, is that guy involved in this?" Warren questioned.
"He doesn't know shit on what the use of these drugs we order are for. We keep our businesses to ourselves. So that lucky bastard isn't involved in this helluva ordeal." Nathan chuckled, shaking his head, irritated, "But seeing as to how you're in my body and I'm in yours. You're under the same situation as I am. Hope you have a lot of anger buried under that timid, fragile, whateverthefuck that weak shit is you have under that soul of yours." The teen glanced behind him, seeing Warren tense up, "Christ... hope we survive..." Nathan clenched his hands tightly once he was done writing, "Your life is on the line, Gayram. And so is mine. So if you want to make it through until that stupid invention is completed to switch us back, you best listen on what to do or else we're both screwed and we'll be six feet under within a matter of seconds if we mess anything up!" He turned towards him.
"Alright..." Warren looked up at Nathan, still queasy from having a gun hidden in his vest, "Then we better start learning more about one another if we want to pull this off until then." The adolescent sighed deeply, "Shall we begin?"
"Yeah..." Nathan huffed, trying to rid all of the irritation so he could focus more to survive this nightmare neither one could wake up from, "Let's start..."