"Is it done?"

The henchman standing in the middle of the room flinched marginally at the words from the deep, gravelly voice. He cast a sideward glance at his fellow men, the largest of whom stepped forward slowly and inclined his head, his only sign of anxiety the lone bead of sweat trickling down the side of his head, near invisible in the dim lighting of the room.

"Yes sir. The girl has been secured, and two others as well," He replied, voice perfectly steady and void of all emotion. He watched the back of the chair, so large that it concealed the man sitting on it from view entirely. At the lack of immediate response, he shared a somewhat wary look with the men behind him and opened his mouth to repeat the information. Before he could however, the hidden man finally spoke up.

"Why the two others? I didn't ask for anymore."

His words sounded perfectly civil, and his tone held no anger or frustration, but all three henchmen in the room balked slightly, nonetheless. There was an undertone to the words somehow, that implied his unhappiness that his orders had not been carried out exactly as he said. The lead minion spoke up again, voice now holding the slightest hint of hesitation.

"We did as you said and snatched her from her apartment, sir. But she came home at the same time as her two friends, and she caught us when we knocked out one of them. Considering what would happen if we left witnesses and all the trouble it could cause, we decided to take the two of them too."

Their boss let out a low hum of thought, which did not make them feel any safer. A hum was thoughtful. A hum meant he was undecided as to what would be their fates for this decision. A hum meant they were by no means out of the woods yet.

"…Fine," He answered at last, and all three slumped in relief, "I suppose they can serve other purposes; I doubt they would get as much as the Kelly girl would. Keep the three of them contained for the next two weeks until it's time."

The three quickly spat out rapid agreements to this order. After this, a silence hung low in the air. The group fidgeted slightly as this continued, eyes flickering hopefully toward the door. They stopped immediately, frozen obediently in place, at the first sign of movement from their boss' chair.

He slowly spun round, and all three in the room flinched as even in the low lighting his harsh features were displayed clearly. He raised a lighter to his lips and calmly flicked it, a small flame sparking to life and further emphasising his somewhat grotesque face. He lit the cigarette balanced at the corner of his thin, dry lips before letting the flame vanish and cramming the lighter back in his pocket. He continued to examine the now sweating men in front of him, none of which could make eye contact with him. One bravely flicked his eyes up in the general direction of his boss' face, before paling slightly and hastily averting his gaze downward once more. The boss drummed his fingers on the armrests thoughtfully, before jerking his head to the door in silent but clear dismissal. Relief shone on the faces of his henchmen as they quickly bowed their heads to him respectfully and turned away, only for him to call behind their backs.

"Next time, don't go against my direct orders. Or you'll be sorry."

The three picked up the pace, hurrying away out the door and down the hall as his deep, throaty laughter pierced the air mockingly behind them.

Daisy awoke to pain and darkness.

Stirring slowly, she slid into consciousness at a snail's pace, but even at such a vague stage of alertness she was acutely aware of a dull aching throb in her neck. She hissed lowly through her teeth, reaching up to rub at the painful spot. Or rather, she would have, had her hands not been bound firmly behind her back.

Her immediate reaction was confusion, brows furrowing as her heavy eyelids finally parted to reveal bloodshot blue eyes. Said eyebrows then flew up in surprise upon seeing her surroundings, eyes beneath them widening in shock and fear.

She was in a small, cramped room, boxes piled up around her haphazardly, balanced so precariously it seemed they would topple at the slightest breath. The lighting was very dim, making it incredibly difficult to make out any real detail, but she could tell the low-ceilinged room was square shaped and very musty, a layer of dust clinging to everything and long draping cobwebs falling from the ceiling. A shudder ran up her spine, due to a mixture of this and the coldness of the room. Her clothes were still damp and clung to her uncomfortably. Her arms and legs were cramping from being in the same upright sitting position for too long. But…where was she?

Her memory was somewhat foggy, but she could vaguely recall arriving home with her friends and running for the shower, locking the bathroom door behind her and, as she sat down on the closed toilet to pry her shoes off, hearing the rustling of the shower curtain behind her. And then…nothing. She could recall nothing after that, nothing to give her any explanation as to why she was currently in a room that she certainly did not recognise, all alone.

Or so she thought, anyway.

She jumped just about out of her skin as a low groan came from her right, from behind a pile of boxes. She managed to make out a pair of bare legs, bound together at the ankles just as Daisy's were, and feet void of shoes but with white frilled socks, not unlike the ones Peach and Rosalina often wore. She watched as the two feet twitched and flexed as their owner slowly returned to consciousness just as Daisy had done mere moments ago, and swallowed before somewhat tentatively calling out in a hushed voice, "Hello?"

All movement from the other girl ceased, and she released another pained groan from where she seemed to be lying on the ground feet away.

"…Daisy?" She asked groggily, and the girl in question blinked in shock as she recognised the voice.

"Peach?!"

Of course – it wasn't just that the socks happened to look like Peach's by sheer coincidence – they actually were hers because it actually was her, lying basically within touching distance. Despite her aching body, and her tied feet making the task somewhat difficult, Daisy shuffled herself forward and right, pushing her hands on the ground to get herself to her friend as fast as possible. Her heart sank as she rounded the boxes Peach was behind, and her eyes met the wide sky blue orbs, blown with distress, staring up at her from the floor.

Aside from missing her shoes and being in obvious emotional disarray, Peach did not look to be harmed in any way. Her long blonde hair hung in loose curls over her neck, making it impossible to tell if she too had received a painful injection, but Daisy would presume that she had. Her clothes were similarly ruffled and slightly less damp, but she did not have on her jacket which Daisy had last seen her wearing. Her lips were dry and her make up horribly smudged, mascara having long since run down her face in black tracks which had now dried in place. But, physically, she seemed unharmed, which sent a wave of relief through Daisy, an emotion the blonde seemed to share as she registered Daisy's presence.

"Oh, you're okay!" Peach cried, tears brimming in her eyes once more as she fought to blink them back, "It looked like you were dead!"

A sliver of unease slid down Daisy, like an ice cube being dropped down the back of her shirt – unpleasant, unasked for, and something she desperately wanted rid of. Dead? What made her think that?

She voiced this question to her friend, who let a few of her tears spill as she looked up at the redhead.

"I came into the bathroom and you were just lying there! You weren't moving at all, and there was a huge muscled guy standing over you, what was I supposed to think?!"

"Peach, Peach!" Daisy hastily attempted to placate her friend, glancing worriedly over at the door on the other side of the room. She may not know where she was or what was going on, but every instinct she had, and every movie she had ever seen, told her that avoiding drawing attention to them was the safest option for now, "It's fine, I'm fine, see?"

The pink-clad girl gulped in a breath and released it shakily, and as she took a moment to compose herself, Daisy took the second to ponder whether she should be having this reaction too. Tears had seemed to be Peach's automatic reaction – understandably so, when waking up in a dark, mysterious room after apparently finding thugs in their apartment who…what, kidnapped them? She couldn't see why, but it seemed like the only explanation right now. Why else, how else, could they have ended up in this situation?

She did not feel tears coming, though. Sure, she felt a deep, gut-wrenching dread, and the sort of terror she had not felt since her days as a very small child. A sense of hopelessness and utter confusion hung over her, over the entire chamber frankly, but somehow tears did not come. Maybe, she mused absently, subconsciously she knew that it would do no good. Whoever took them – if indeed, someone did take them – would not likely be swayed by weeping. Blubbering would distract her from her surroundings, the ongoings, and something told her that at least one of them had to be aware of the situation. Besides, while the other two were no cowards, and while she was certainly not rational or reasonable in all parts of life, Daisy was the bravest and most outgoing of the three of them. She would try things, do things, before the other two even thought about them. Her impulse control was non-existent – In fact, Rosalina would often joke that Peach and Rosie were her impulse control, the only things stopping her from doing stupidly thoughtless things 24/7 such as daring herself to eat an entire chilli pepper that was almost certainly long out of code and not safe to eat.

But, somehow, this lack of impulse control translated itself into a strange sort of situational awareness; she could keep her cool under stress when the other two just could not. Maybe because she had spent half her childhood stressed about one thing or another – money, parents, friends, school – but pressure did not affect her the way it did others. She could take things in stride, where others may crumble.

But, even for her, keeping her head in this situation was asking a lot. And speaking of Rosalina…

"Peach, what about Rosie? What happened to her, is she okay? Did they get her too?" She asked urgently, stomach dropping at the thought of the pacifistic Rosalina being hurt. Her fears were confirmed when Peach nodded slowly, still attempting to rein in her emotions.

"I – Yeah, they grabbed her and injected her with something to knock her out like me – "

And me, Daisy mentally added.

" - I don't know what happened after that though and – Daisy, what do you mean, did they get her? Did who get her? What's happening to us?!"

Daisy hushed her quickly, nudging her with her feet to quieten her and receiving a vaguely affronted glare in response. She sighed slowly and looked around as if answers were going to miraculously form out of thin air.

"…I don't know," She admitted, "You were awake longer than I was – I didn't even realise that I'd been knocked out. One minute I was in the bathroom, the next I was waking up here. But, P, we're tied up, in some kind of weird storage room, after being drugged – there's no way someone didn't k-kidnap us."

Upon voicing it aloud, her voice quivered for the first time. The situation, already easily the scariest of Daisy's eighteen years, had suddenly become even more real. Voicing it meant she could not deny it, could not cling to any vague hopes that this was all some kind of long, twisted joke. Nobody would jab them with real needles, just for the sake of a prank. Nobody.

Upon hearing these words, Peach flinched.

"B-but why? What did we do?!" She hissed, thankfully managing to keep her voice quiet. Before Daisy could even try and fathom some kind of answer for her, they both froze as, behind another pile of boxes to the left of where Daisy had awoken, they heard a sharp gasp. Taking a chance, and trusting the gut feeling she had upon hearing this, Daisy called out quietly.

"Rosie?"

They did not receive a verbal answer. Instead, they heard a shifting and rustling noise, lasting almost half a minute before Rosalina managed to drag herself into view. She seemed to have been left lying face down, as she was having to manoeuvre herself in a most awkward and undignified way, dragging her stomach along the ground as she used her feet to, with some difficulty, push herself forward, using her elbows and bound hands to pull herself in the right direction. She craned her neck to look up at the other two, wincing at the effort.

"What is happening here?" She whispered fearfully, voice croaking from misuse. Her hands were scraped from dragging herself along the harsh stone, leggings fraying and ripped at the knees, and her hair pulled back into a once graceful tidy ponytail, now messy with strands falling out. Shaking her own wavy red strands out of her face, Daisy sighed slowly once more.

"We don't know. We don't know where we are, we don't know who it was that was in our apartment, we don't know why, we don't know anything," She replied, frustration mounting in her voice. If she got angry, it would help push down the fear. And she certainly felt entitled to her anger, considering circumstances.

Rosalina nodded softly in understanding, eyes flickering around the room nervously. Peach, who had finally completely ceased in her crying and seemed determined to regain her composure, manoeuvred her arms to shrug harshly, turning her face to rub it against her shoulder, removing most of the teartracks lingering there as well as the streaks of mascara on her face.

"What time do you think it is? How long do you think we've been here?" She asked anxiously, using her thumb to twist her ring around her middle finger, a nervous habit that she had always had. Daisy shrugged absently in response, and Rosalina shook her head.

"I have no idea," The other blonde said, swallowing and clearing her throat before trying to speak again, "But Daisy's jeans still look damp, so it can't have been more than a day."

"They are, it's freezing," The named girl grumbled, squirming. The cold air of the room was not exactly speeding up the drying process, so while her hoodie seemed to have finished drying while she was still out, her heavier jeans still clung cold and vaguely soggy to her legs, "They must have legged it with us straight from the apartment, we're dressed the complete same ; look, I still have my shoes, Peach doesn't, and Rosie…"

"Has one," The older girl finished, smile somewhat sardonic as she managed to wave her legs into the air, showing her right foot was missing the black shoe that her left foot had

on, "The other one must have fallen off. So, you're right, they really didn't take the time to do anything to us."

"That's all fine and well, but why take us in the first place? Hostages or something? My family is broke, they're not getting a ransom or anything so –"

"Mine isn't," Peach whispered, face paling slightly, "What if…"

She trailed off, but the other two understood where she was going immediately.

"…Your family is one of the richest in California," Rosalina said quietly, looking slightly queasy.

"Which is saying something since everyone in California is loaded," Chimed in Daisy, voice equally low.

"But…but…they took all three of us, why would they…I mean, my dad would pay it, I know he would, but…but why would…did…are you saying…Did I get you two kidnapped because my dad is rich?!"

The last word came out as a semi-hysterical screech, Peach's entire face looking panicked and desperate, looking between the two of them as if hoping they would disprove her. She would hate to be indirectly responsible for something like this; for all her family's fame and fortune, she was remarkably generous with her money, dismissing attempts to pay her back for coffee or lunch and frequently surprising her friends with gifts she knows they will love. The thing about Peach is that she cares, deeply and quickly, for people. She never wants them to feel unappreciated, and admittedly often used money to show people she cared. Never as a bribe, just buying them things to remind them that they matter. To remind them that she is in their corner. She was a good, loving friend…

And from the looks of it, the guilt of this situation would eat her alive if it was confirmed to be the case.

"We don't know that," Rosalina hastened to speak, voice now back to its gentle lulling tone, looking as if she regretted having spoken up, "For all we know, we were just in the wrong place, wrong time. It could have nothing to do with your money."

Peach only looked marginally comforted by these words, seeming unconvinced, and privately Daisy could not blame her. But there was something about Rosalina, a quiet sort of calmness, even in this situation, that made you want to listen to her, be soothed by her. Rosalina was remarkably motherly for a nineteen-year-old girl – perhaps due to her close relationship with her younger sister – and, particularly in exam season or near deadlines, was the only thing that kept Peach and Daisy sane and alive. She would gently pull Peach away from her design notebook and fifth cup of coffee at two in the morning, would coax Daisy back indoors from running laps until her lungs burned, would cook for them to make sure neither of them forgot to eat during these intense periods – while juggling her own coursework. Rosalina was, through and through, the most comforting person anyone could hope to have around. She squirmed forward, hissing slightly as her skin scraped along the floor, and managed to awkwardly twist her arms to grasp one of Peach's hands, giving a tight squeeze.

"And even if that were the case," Daisy chimed in, "It's not your fault. No way."

Peach looked up at her in surprise, as Rosalina quickly nodded.

"She's right, they're the ones who took us. Besides, I would rather be here with you than worrying about you stuck at home," Rosalina said, shooting a warm smile at a suddenly once again tearful Peach.

"Rosie…"

Daisy suddenly sat up straighter, stilling, and quickly interrupted, "Shh!"

Her two friends looked at her, confused and more than a little wary, before they too registered the low hum of voices coming closer outside the door. They all remained utterly silent, until finally snippets of the conversation began to reach them.

"-Just saying that I doubt they'll sell as well, is all. Daddy's little rich kid, pretty little flexible blonde, she'll go in a heartbeat, and high too. Boss chose her well, I'm not surprised."

Another voice grunted in agreement.

"Yeah, though I hear when he saw her he took a real liking to her – can't blame him, stunning little thing she is. The other too ain't half bad either, you're seriously underestimating how much these people will pay for pretty much any pretty young face," He replied.

"Yeah, yeah, but they're not that young. That'll put a lot of people off. And the other two don't got the thrill of being the kid of one of the richest businessmen in the US," The first argued. They now appeared to be right outside the door, and all three girls tensed, hearts racing as their minds worked to process the words they were hearing.

"They'll still sell well, mark my words, the boss'll make sure of it. And if they somehow don't, who knows, maybe we can keep 'em. Or dispose of them. Who cares, but we did not drag them all the way here from DC just to let them go," The other man growled, and Daisy felt her blood turn to ice even more than it already had. 'All the way here from DC', he had said. If they were no longer in Washington DC, the state of their university…where were they? And what exactly did they mean, sell well? Or dispose of them? Her mind was whirring a million miles an hour trying to comprehend all of this.

Peach looked very nauseous a few feet away, and Rosalina was squeezing her hand so hard the knuckles on both their hands were stark and white, shaking like a leaf. Daisy briefly wished she could join in that comfort, too, but her attention was drawn as the conversation outside continued as the first man snorted.

"Don't act like you're so hard done by; you weren't even there. Anyway, you got the key, right?"

"Huh? No, you were supposed to grab it," He protested, quickly drowned out by a long groan from the other man.

"Unbelievable. No, I wasn't, that was your job. You can go get it then, and you can be the one to tell boss what the holdup is if you run into him. Go on, go. I ain't moving."

Grumblings quickly faded away along with a single set of heavy footsteps, back the way they came. But none of the three dared to speak up knowing that one more man stood stationed outside the door. Daisy's eyes were trained on the bottom of the door, where she now noticed the shadow of the man standing there. She looked back at her friends, petrified, and Rosalina quickly jerked her head to signal for her to come closer. She done so, allowing them to converse in tones barely even a whisper.

"What do we do?" Breathed Peach, "They're coming. I don't want to be sold, I don't want to die, oh god."

She sucked in a rapid somewhat rattled breath, before darting her eyes over to the door to ensure this hadn't been heard by the new guard. She continued.

"I don't, I-I…do we fight? Like, what do we do?"

"Fight how? They're probably twice the size of us, and we're tied up," Daisy replied somewhat warily, chest tight. Her heart was going like a jackhammer, and a strange ringing was clear in her ears. Her entire body felt heavy from defeat, the will to fight draining out of her in a way it never had before. Whatever way she looked at it, this situation seemed hopeless. Whatever happened to the three of them, there was no way it would be good. For the first time, she felt the sting of tears in her eyes and blinked heavily to push them back. Rosalina looked up at her in mild concern but looked similarly helpless.

"We can't," She said, voice hollow, "We can't fight, how could we? None of us are fighters, only Daisy could hold her own in a fight and that's against someone she's evenly matched with."

Silence hung as the truth of this statement hit them, and Daisy suddenly sat up straighter. Her black belt in karate might not serve her well against a random thug, but she'd fought plenty of messy fights back in school. She had fought against people who she certainly should not have won against, but had. Sheer determination, planning and dumb luck could get a person far. If she could only get out of these ropes, she could at least give it her best attempt to save herself and her friends…

A sudden scuffle and yell outside the door startled all three, and they quickly paid attention and fell quiet once more. A shout, one that sounded like the man who was guarding their door, pierced the air, only to be muffled by what sounded like someone cramming a hand over their mouth. And suddenly, a new voice could be heard.

"That's it, you just keep quiet while we do our thing…"

"Mar," Another voice, also unfamiliar but less gruff and more anxious, "We gotta hurry, the other guy will be back here any minute."

"Yeah, yeah, don't crowd me baby brother, I just gotta find the right key, gimme a sec…"

"Mario!" The other voice implored fretfully, "Hurry! The others will be waiting, and whoever is in here, it won't do them or anyone else any good if we get caught too!"

"Are we ever caught?" The first person asked, seemingly rhetorically as he did not wait for an answer, "Hold on, I think I…Yep, got it!"

Sharing a panicked but puzzled look, the three girls huddled together, eyes trained on the door, unsure of what to do or in fact what they even could do to defend themselves.

But it did not matter how unprepared they were. There was a jangling of a key being crammed in and twisted, before the lock clicked, and the door swung, seemingly in slow motion, open.