"I think you're being a little ridiculous."

"You would," Oliver muttered. "I did not ask you to come with me."

"I am required by contract to remain—"

"I know," Oliver said, rolling his eyes.

The automatic doors permitted him entry to the airport and he strode through them without delay. Mai had not been at home. She had not answered his messages.

And as he rounded the corner to the cafe, Oliver realised she was not here either.

He frowned and walked up to the bar anyway.

"Where is Mai?" he asked Sarah.

"I wish I knew," Sarah muttered. "She just didn't turn up for her shift today. She didn't respond to any of my phone calls either. I managed to call in someone else but jeesh, she could have given me some warning."

Oliver frowned.

"Maybe she's avoiding you," Gene suggested.

Oliver glared at his twin.

"What?" Gene asked innocently.

"I'm going back to her apartment."

"But she didn't answer when we—"

"Maybe she has returned from wherever she was now."

Gene sighed, but relented. Oliver turned back to Sarah.

"If you hear from her, please tell her to contact me."

"Will do," Sarah promised. "Likewise. I want to chew her out for abandoning me. Phone this number."

She scribbled something on a post-it note and handed it over. Oliver nodded and pocketed it.

The twins left the airport — despite only being there a matter of minutes — and Oliver drove them back to Mai's apartment.

Once again, Oliver rung Mai's doorbell and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And—

Gene pressed the doorbell again, for longer and with more force.

"Pressing the button harder does not—"

"Just in case!" Gene interrupted with a shrug. "Maybe it's glitchy. Let's face it, this isn't the nicest part of town and I wouldn't be surprised if it did not work."

Oliver could not answer back to that. The area in which Mai lived was a little run down.

They continued to wait.

"I don't think she's in, Noll. Maybe she just went out without her phone. Or maybe she's asleep and the doorbell is broken. There are a lot of perfectly legitimate reasons why she's not getting in contact with you right now."

Oliver pressed the doorbell one more time. He frowned.

"Something feels wrong," he mumbled.

"I'm sure she'll get back to you. Maybe her phone is broken."

Oliver nodded.

"Fine, let's go."


"Oww…"

Mai clutched her throbbing head. She felt a bruise on her forehead. She winced in pain as she poked it.

"Poking it makes it hurt," she mumbled to herself.

Green.

Her bedding wasn't green. Why was it green?

It wasn't a nice green either. She would not pick this. Who would pick a snot coloured bedsheet? It reminded her of avocado bathrooms from the seventies.

Mai sat up and appraised the rest of her surroundings. She did not recognise them. For a brief moment, she wondered if she had been out with Oliver the previous night and gotten very drunk.

Then she remembered she was pissed at him.

And that he would never stay in somewhere that looked like a basement out of a horror film. No. He was a supermodel and soon to be a movie star. The git. How dare—

That was beside the point.

He was not here. And she was.

What was she doing in a basement?

Mai had no clue. She checked her pockets for her phone. But it was nowhere to be seen. She frowned and made her way to the only apparent exit.

She wasn't particularly surprised when the door did not open. Taking a deep breath, she tried again. Still no luck.

"Well fuck."

Mai spun around and searched the rest of the room, slowly coming to terms with the fact that she had been kidnapped and could not escape.

The breeze block walls had been painted in magnolia and reminded Mai vividly of her university halls. The only other thing in the room was a bucket next to a pack of toilet roll.

She grimaced.

Who kidnapped her? Who on earth would want to kidnap her of all people? She was a nobody! Mai racked her brains and tried to think of a customer she had wronged or…

She swore again.

"That arsehole. It's because of him, isn't it?"

She rounded on the door again and began hammering on it with her fists.

"I don't know why you've got me here but it won't help you get to him! I hate him!" she yelled. "Oi! Let me out!"

She kicked the door for good measure. It didn't budge.

"Sit on the bed!" a voice shouted back.

"What?"

"Sit on the bed!" the voice repeated. Mai suspected it was male.

"Why?"

"Because otherwise, you won't get any food."

Mai frowned, but complied.

"Okay? I'm sat on the bed," she called.

A click and the door unlocked. A middle-aged man entered. He was greying and balding and plump. He was balancing a tray on one hand.

"There we go," he said, handing it over. He shut the door behind him.

Mai took the tray. There was a paper plate with cucumber sandwiches cut into triangles and some carrot sticks.

"Thanks?"

The man beamed.

"Um, not to be rude, but why am I here?"

The man's smile fell a little.

"We've just got to hold onto you until your friend arrives. Once he turns up and gives us what we want, then you'll be free to go."

"He's not going to come for me," Mai said. "We're not friends any more. I officially hate him. He's an arse."

The man gave her a pitying stare.

"You see, that might be true for you, but that does not mean it'll be true for him."

Mai opened her mouth to argue, before realising she had not got around to telling Oliver she thought he was an arse. He still thought they were friends. Maybe more than friends.

She cringed at the idea.

"Don't worry, we'll look after you. I'm sure he'll be along in no time."

"Can I at least have my phone?"

"Well—"

"Just so I can tell my work I can't come in?" Mai pleaded. "And you know, I could text him to hurry up…?"

The man bit his lip.

"You see, I understand where you're coming from, but you might also phone the police. And that would somewhat ruin our plans. Don't worry. He'll find my note and be along in no time, I'm sure."

The man smiled reassuringly and before Mai could argue again, he darted out of the room and she heard the door lock.

"Fuck."

She picked at the sandwiches and the carrot sticks. Now the food was in front of her, she realised just how hungry she was. Without a window, it was hard to know the time of day.

How long had she been asleep for?

Had it even been sleep? It can't have been. She would have noticed. That man must have knocked her out. That would be why her head hurt so much…

But how… When…

She remembered meeting with her friends.

She remembered going home.

She remembered getting ready for bed.

But nothing beyond that. This led Mai to the conclusion that it had either been early the next morning, on her way to work. Or worse… That that man had somehow entered her flat…

She shivered at the very thought.

He had looked harmless enough. The sort of man you would pass in the street without a second thought. Like the sort of man you would see standing at the edge of a park watching over his kids. Generic family man.

Not the sort of person who would kidnap someone…

Mai mentally berated herself for allowing appearances to cloud her judgement. She should know better.

She finished the food.

What did this man and his accomplice — for his language implied he had one — want from Oliver though?

Her first thought was money. That was the obvious thing. Yet something about the man's manner made her think it was not money…

Mai took a deep breath. She needed a plan. All she had to do was charge him next time he opened the door and run and escape…

How hard could it be, right?


Author's note: I have not abandoned this story. I am very mentally ill and really, really struggling with just about everything right now. I could do with lots of lovely enthusiastic reviews. I will finish this story.