Chapter Text
I groaned as the world tilted. Every joint in my body felt like it had been dragged through miles of gravel, and my head was a cacophony of dull, rhythmic throbs.
"Gwen, dahan-dahan, baka magising," a voice whispered—low, sharp, and laced with caution.
"I’m sorry," a second voice replied softly.
I fought to remember what the hell was going on. One moment, I’m at the airport, freshly finished with filming and buzzing with excitement for a one-month vacation. I was talking to the immigration officer, ready to leave the celebrity life behind for a few weeks, and then—BAM. Nothing. Total blackout.
Did I just pass out? Impossible. I felt perfectly fine. OMG. Did I get kidnapped? I could feel the rhythmic vibration of a moving vehicle beneath me. Panic started to flare. Who in their right mind would kidnap a face that’s plastered on every billboard in the country? Maybe it’s just an ambulance. Maybe I collapsed and I’m on my way to the ER.
Fighting through the grogginess, I forced my eyes open. I was sitting between two women. They were both wearing airport uniforms, which sent a wave of relief through me. I tried to speak, but my tongue felt like thick, heavy lead.
"Wh-where are we going?" I slurred.
The girl on my right looked at me, her expression unreadable. "To the hospital.”
I tried to shift my weight, but I felt pinned down by something heavy. I struggled to move my hands, but they wouldn't budge.
CLINK.
My heart plummeted. I looked down and my eyes nearly popped out of my head. Polished steel handcuffs were locked tight around my wrists.
I looked up at the girl who had answered me. She had flaming red hair and eyebrows so perfectly defined she could’ve been my co-star. She just watched me, sighing as she turned to her companion. "I told you those handcuffs were too much," she said.
The girl on my left, sporting a pink ponytail, let out a huff. "No! It's not kaya! The handcuffs are a must! We are kidnapping someone, so it should look aesthetic. Hindi ko feel ’yung ginagawa natin ’pag walang ganiyan."
"Aesthetic my ass!!!"
The word kidnap hit me like a physical blow.
"K-kidnap?"
"Stacey!!!" the redhead hissed, her voice sharp with frustration.
"Oops, my bad," Stacey said playfully, not looking sorry at all.
"We did not kidnap you; we are just delivering you," the redhead added, as if that was supposed to make me feel better.
"De-delivering? Are you... human traffickers?" My voice was trembling now.
"No? Yes? I think not at the moment," Stacey answered casually.
"Stacey, will you please shut up! Tinatakot mo lang ’yung tao, eh!"
"Oops again, my bad. But since you said please, I'll shut my mouth—besides, we're already near the hospital anyway."
"Hospital? Are you going to take my organs?" I tried to make my voice sound authoritative, the way I did in my legal dramas. "Don't you know na ’pag nawala ako nang matagal, maraming maghahanap sa akin?"
"Dito na tayo," the driver interrupted.
"Finally! Sakit na ng pwet ko," Stacey exclaimed, jumping out to stretch.
I watched as Mikha—the redhead—and Stacey left me alone for a few minutes before returning with a wheelchair. They tried to force me into it, and I fought with everything I had left, which wasn't much. I tried to scream for help, but Stacey’s hand clamped over my mouth instantly.
I saw an opening and tried to bite her, but before I could, a sharp, sudden pain bloomed in my neck.
"Gwen! Ano ba ’yan!" I heard Stacey shout. Then, for the second time today, the world went black.
When I stirred awake again, I found myself staring at a sterile white ceiling. The memory hit me like a freight train: kidnapped, handcuffed, and likely about to be harvested for parts.
I sat up frantically, relieved to find my limbs free, but my heart sank when I saw the same trio watching me. Stacey looked way too entertained for my liking.
“Please, pakawalan n’yo na ako," I pleaded, my voice cracking. "Wala akong pagsasabihan tungkol sa mga nangyari ngayon. Masyado rin kayong maha-hassle if people start looking for me. If kailangan n’yo ng pera, kaya ko naman kayong bayaran! Mas hihigitan ko pa ang presyo ng mga laman-loob ko, bayaran ko na lang kayo.”
"Sorry, Aiah, but we don't need your money or your organs," Stacey said, her tone almost bored. "Gwen, pakiabutan nga ng tubig si Aiah.”
Gwen handed me a glass. I was so terrified I didn't realize how parched I was; I drained it in three massive gulps. As I set the glass down with a shaky hand, I studied them.
They didn't act like criminals. They had this strange air of authority, and their banter was too casual for a federal crime. Then I remembered Stacey’s mention of acting skills. This wasn't about my organs. They wanted my talent.
"You said you need me whole," I said, trying to find my professional voice. "And you want me to act. Sino ang kailangang makakita sa akin? Is this some kind of private performance for a billionaire?"
Stacey laughed. "Billionaire? No. Much more complicated than that, Aiah."
Mikha stepped forward, her face hardening. "Look, we don't have time for a full rehearsal. Just remember: whoever you see behind that door, they are the most important person in your life right now. If you break character, we’re not the ones you should be afraid of.”
"W-what do you want me to do?" I asked, my pulse quickening.
"Just follow us. We want you to meet someone. And please prepare yourself, okay? Use your every skill sa pag-arte," Stacey said with a mysterious smile.
"Ca—can you just tell me kung anong dapat kong gawin?"
"No." Stacey’s smile turned mischievous. "Masyadong boring if malalaman mo agad." Sabay tawa ng nakakaloko.
The lack of a script was more suffocating than the handcuffs. I felt like I was stepping onto a stage without a director or a title. That annoying smile on Stacey’s face told me they were going to enjoy watching me struggle.
I followed them through the hospital. The silence was oppressive. No nurses, no guards, no other patients. This entire wing had been cleared out just for this.
I tried to steady my breathing. Inhale for four, hold for four, exhale for four. My standard pre-scene ritual. I didn't know who was behind that door, but I knew I had to be someone else the moment it opened.
We stopped in front of a heavy wooden door. It looked like a luxury suite.
"We're here," Stacey whispered, her hand on the handle. "Just open the door. Don't worry, if you need anything, we are just behind you.” Tawang sabi ni Stacey.
I looked at Mikha, who looked uncharacteristically grim, and then at Stacey’s playful malice. My fingers trembled as I wrapped them around the cold brass knob. My heart was hammering against my ribs—not as Aiah the Superstar, but as a woman terrified of the unknown.
I twisted the knob. The door creaked open, revealing a room flooded with the soft, orange glow of the afternoon sun.
"MAHAL!"
The voice was a scream of pure, unadulterated joy. Before I could even register a face, a force hit me that nearly knocked me off my feet. A pair of arms wrapped around me, clinging with a desperate strength that suggested they would never, ever let go.
The act had begun. And God help me, I still didn't know my lines.