The Gift

by A. F. Henley

  It was “Summer Dream.” And for Doren, it could not have been more aptly named.

  Promises,

  Promises

  Doren

  When the music faded and the lights dimmed, the crowd went wild. Doren lifted his face and rode the sound of their fervor; breathing it in, letting it fill him, feeding off the sound. Awesome: there was no other word to describe it. The show had been awesome, Doren felt awesome, and the crowd had responded in exactly the way Doren had hoped they would.

  He flinched when Curtis touched his shoulder, but understood the nod when it was given and reacted quickly to it. It was time to leave.

  They tumbled in a group, slapping shoulders, grins wide, as they headed to the wing to collect August. Doren was met with a flurry of arms and legs as August wrapped his whole body around Doren's. Laughing, Doren lifted him, spinning August like a child. He caught August's mouth and kissed him hard. "Did you like it, Aug?"

  "The song ..." August whispered. "My, God, Doren. That song."

  Doren moved in for another kiss, a lighter one, a tease. "It was for you."

  Another kiss followed, until several had blurred into a long moment of exploring each other's mouths and Curtis smacked Doren's back. "Okay, Romeo. Not here. Let's get the fuck out of Dodge."

  In the stadium the crowd still screamed. As they moved in a group towards the exit, Doren was stopped by a guard. "Encore, buddy! They're calling for an encore."

  Doren shook his head no and tried to press past. "At least send the band out for one more bow," the guard said. "Let the people know you're not coming back. We gotta deal with this after you guys leave."

  Breathing a huff of irritation, Doren shot August a quick glance and motioned with his finger, one more minute. The five of them found the stage again and the crowd roared. Tears spilled. Eternal love was avowed as the boys waved their farewells to appease the straining mass of people. But all Curtis gave them was a single minute. Yanking Doren back, once again they moved away. When Doren heard the first, "Oh, shit," he looked about wildly. From behind, several quick-bodied teenagers stumbled onto the platform and looked around anxiously for the missing star.

  "Quick, sir, this way."

  They were only fans, Doren thought. Right? But a sudden pressing whine in the back of his head and the look that fell over Cooper's face had him questioning the thought.

  He didn't fight when Security began to pull him towards the dressing room. "Sir, we've gotta get you out of here before the crowd grows."

  Confusion escalated quickly. Speech bubbled at him from everywhere.

  "Fuck, Max, watch out! There's more of 'em coming this way."

  "Get that hallway cleared!"

  "Someone call for a few more guys!"

  Doren stopped dead the moment they entered the hallway and sound faded. "Where's August?"

  He was shoved from behind, a massive hand from a massive man that growled, "Move it, kid. It's my head if you get hurt here and my ass ain't up for getting beat on."

  He stumbled, but he didn't let that stop him from planting his feet and trying again. "Where's August?" When there was no reply Doren lifted his voice to be heard over the rest. "Cooper, buddy! Where's August?"

  Cooper looked up and paused before he too was shoved towards the dressing room. "Hey, fuck off, idiot!"

  "Cooper!" Doren couldn't control the panic out of his voice. "Concentrate, please! Where is August?"

  "I—I don't know!" Cooper looked on the verge of tears. "There's too much! I can't find him!"

  What felt very similar to a punch in the kidneys almost knocked Doren off his feet. Even still, the pain of it had him crumpling to one knee. "Aug," he mumbled, trying to pull together enough strength to relax, to hear. And suddenly the band was gone, ushered through the door and forced into the dressing room. Doren was pulled to his feet and barely felt the needle that stole his consciousness.

  Curtis

  When the door slammed behind them it took a full minute to realize Doren wasn't with them.

  He didn't scream the expletives that raced to his tongue, saving his energy to yank on the doorknob that refused to allow them reentry to the hall. It had only been a second, just one second of regrouping, how had he let this happen?

  He looked around the room in horror, trying to grasp the situation. They probably had all of about ten seconds to make a decision. So why was he having trouble?

  "Stand aside," Geoff said calmly. "A little wooden door is not going to keep us."

  August

  He'd watched them say their goodbyes, had still been able to feel the electricity Doren's kiss had ignited on his mouth. He'd been so happy for them, had watched Doren's beaming face, thoroughly enjoying Doren's joy.

  He'd been sloppy.

  He hadn't kept himself on guard.

  When the arms had slipped around August's waist and lifted him, when the hand had cupped over his mouth, when he'd been dragged from the stage area into the hall, he hadn't been prepared. He forgot to call. He forgot, in fact, everything except fear. He'd kicked and he'd screamed and he'd made every effort to bite the palm that silenced him, but the body that held him had been strong and merciless.

  When August had grabbed at the door handle as he was carried through it, trying to hoist himself away, he'd been tossed against the concrete wall so hard his breath had run fast and far. And even then his captor had shown no pity, choosing to drag him by his collar until August became such a distraction he had to be picked back up again.

  There was no power August could pull; the man was just a man. Just a big, strong, asshole-brute of a man. So when his breath returned, and his voice with it, it took only seconds before August's screaming drove the man over the brink. With the hand of a giant and the force of a freight train, the man slapped August's face so hard that his ears rang. August shook his head, growled at the floor, and spit at him, pooling the blood in his mouth to get a good splatter. That was all the man was going to put up with. The fist that hit August's jaw sent him spiraling into darkness.

  Anton

  "Beautiful." He stroked Doren's face and hair, eyes shining with glee. "Just beautiful!"

  "Sir?"

  The voice broke Anton's attention away from Doren's drugged body and he glared reproachfully at the new arrival.

  "I was told to tell you that we have the assistant, sir. He's in the basement now, awaiting Morana. What are you instructions for the singer?"

  The rush of anger that hit Anton's core was unreasonable and uncontrollable. He rose with an angry cry, rushing the guard and pinning the man against the wall by his throat. "Doren," he hissed. "His name is Doren."

  As the guard choked his apology, Anton tightened his grip, "Who told you that you could refer to him like that? Singer?" Anton checked his voice with a deep breath. "You think he's a mere singer? You can't possibly be that stupid. Which means that you are just disrespectful." Hands flew up to meet his own, beating fruitlessly against the assault. Fishes could not look so lovely gasping their final, silent pleas for mercy as they lay on the sand, Anton thought. As the guard's face tightened in agony, as his thrashing became more violent, Anton grinned. Fear-filled eyes pleaded silently for mercy that was not granted, and when they faded into vacancy, Anton let the body slip slowly to the floor. "And I don't tolerate disrespect."

  He stepped away, stretching the tension from his neck as another guard entered the room, surprise shining on the man's face when he saw the still body on the floor. "I need someplace small and dark, something I can padlock," Anton snapped. "What can you give me?"

  Anton glared without explanation, body language and expression making it quite clear that the man would meet the same fate as his associate if Anton's request wasn't reacted to quickly and efficiently. He almost dared the guard to hesitate; his soul itched to do it again.

  "The service van, sir. The back of the service van. The windows are blacked out, it's only about four by eight, and it locks."

  Anton waved the nervous gu
ard away. "Make it happen."

  Taking deep breaths Anton moved back to the prone body of his favored toy. With a quick glance at the door to ensure they were alone, Anton shifted to stretch out beside Doren, lying beside him like a concerned lover, and once again began to stroke Doren's sweat-bathed skin and wet hair.

  "You should be careful, boy, what you let your enemies overhear. They will use your fears against you if they can." He trailed his fingertips over Doren's peaceful face. "Beautiful, but stupid."

  Geoff

  The door splintered easily underneath his fists. With a mighty heave he pushed it so hard it laid half off its hinges, suspended in mid-descent in the hallway. The area was deserted. Not a sound made its way through the hall. An overhead light winked on and off, on and off.

  "Now what?"

  "This way," Dawson said, taking the lead. "Follow me."

  Anton

  "Be careful, you fools," Anton barked at the two uniformed drivers. "That's not a sack of potatoes for Christ's sake!"

  Doren was slowly regaining consciousness, turning his head from side to side, trying to force open eyelids that refused to comply while Anton surveyed the back of the service van. When the driver reached for the handle of the door, Anton stopped him.

  "No. Not yet. Wait."

  He stood back and watched Doren as the boy tried to regain his senses.

  "Sir?"

  Once again rage washed over Anton in a fit and he had to resist the urge to slice the driver through. Fucking questions. Fucking questions and interruptions. Why couldn't they just shut the fuck up and wait like they were told?

  "I want him to know," Anton said quietly. "I want him to understand where he is and what's happening. Knowledge is power, so they say."

  It was only a few more seconds before Doren was able to open his eyes and focus long enough for recognition to register on his face. Anton smiled as understanding dawned and waved at the pathetic expression as Doren struggled to find his feet. "Too bad in this case, the power is for me, hmm?"

  He nodded at the drivers. "Shut the door and lock it. Lock it well. He can move a simple tumbler so be sure to padlock it. Better yet, let's not take any chances. Padlock it twice."

  Doren

  He began to whimper as soon as the doors started to close. Breathing through his nose, closing his mouth tightly, Doren tried to swallow the screams that threatened to race out of his throat. He crawled to the back of the van, slipping on the slick metal surface, and banged on the door. Was it just his imagination or could he hear a sound? Mice? Rats? Worse?

  His heart seemed to swell inside his chest. He had to fight to keep back both gags and tears. "Let me out, Anton. Let me out!"

  He couldn't relax enough to focus; he couldn't still himself to find the power even if he thought he could use it. What had Anton said? Padlock? Could he even open a padlock? Had he ever tried? He didn't think so. And where was Auggie? What had they done to him? Where were the guys? Were they looking for him? Why hadn't they found him? God, where was all the oxygen? Had they not vented the space at all?

  A rush of cool air found him as Anton slid open the tiny square that allowed the driver to view the back of the van. Doren rushed for the opening, clawing at the tiny peephole. "Let me out. You have to let me out. Please, just let me out."

  The smug look on Anton's face fed a flash of anger through Doren's guts that was so painful he punched the wall of the van. The echo that surrounded him was deafening and he clutched his ears, dragging breath that didn't sustain and trying to get a rein on emotion that had long since galloped out of his reach.

  "Doren, Doren," Anton laughed, "don't get so upset. We're just going on a little ride is all. Short trip. No concerns. We would have loved to make you more comfortable but sometimes want must give way for need. And Doren, love, I do need you docile."

  With a cold click the opening was shut, removing all light, stilling all sound. Doren scrambled to find the tiny square that could take away the darkness, scratching at the surface of the van without regard to fingernail or bone.

  Relief knocked him off his feet when the peephole was slid aside again. He stared at Anton and Anton grinned back. "Oh, and Doren? Do watch out for the rats, hmm?"

  While Doren choked on frustration, losing his battle to contain his fear, once again Anton slammed the divider and stole the light.

  August

  The light was harsh, a solitary bulb that swung naked above August's head—back and forth, back and forth. He blinked unfocused eyes and dragged himself up off the damp concrete. His jaw ached and his body felt like it had been through a stone-crusher. He sought out the most uncomfortable spots with his fingertips, feeling tenderly for damage until he was satisfied he could stand without collapsing. He was unsteady when he got to his feet, swaying like a palm tree in a hurricane, but he forced himself to concentrate. Get a hold, he told himself. See what we're up against.

  August forced blurry eyes to assess: block walls dripped with lime and moisture, a concrete floor and ceiling that had been poured rough, unleveled and unfinished, and in front of him, a massive darkened mirror that looked completely out of place in such a coarse setup. He walked towards the mirror and leaned close, trying to fix his eyes past the glass. "Oh, yeah," he whispered. It was a two-way, for sure. It had only made sense that it would be. He gritted his teeth and banged on the glass. "Open up, you fuckers. Where's Doren?"

  The surface didn't even tremble underneath his fists. "Not kidding," he tried again, banging hard enough to make his fist sore. "I will tear through this if I have to."

  A light clicked on behind the mirror and with the illumination, mirror lightened to mere glass. "I think I liked the view better before," August said smartly, staring directly into the cold, dark eyes of Morana. "What have you done with everyone?"

  "Oh no, August," Morana said. "It's not what we've done with everyone else. Only what we've done with you."

  He rolled his eyes. "No games, Morana. I don't have time for them. Just tell me where the fuck I can find Doren."

  Morana frowned and shook her head. "Look at you. Swearing like a miscreant. And here you were such a sweet boy but a few days ago." She crossed her arms in front of her. "What happened, August? Did you find out that life isn't all rainbows and roses?"

  August glared back. "Well, if anyone would know the truth of that it would be you, you freaky old bitch. Where's. Doren?"

  "Tsk, tsk, tsk," Morana tutted. "Relax, boy. Doren is fine. You know that I mean him no harm. On the contrary, I want to offer him the world."

  "Yeah, well, I hate to tell you, but Doren's not interested in your world."

  Morana advanced on the mirror, closing the distance between the two of them. "Are you sure, August? Are you convinced of that? How much soul-searching have you done to know that's the truth?"

  "I don't need to search very hard to know that," August sneered. "Doren is a good person. He doesn't want to hurt anybody."

  With an arm's length between them Morana stopped and caught his eye. "Oh? Is that so? He's a good person, is he? Tell me, August, what has he done to prove that to you? He cajoled you into giving up your virginity after you denied him time and time again. He's stolen your love and never once offered it back to you. He taunts. He teases. Can you tell me that Doren doesn't hurt people's feelings or say unkind words? Will you have me believe that he only thinks about others and never puts himself first? What has he really, really done to show you that he's a good person?"

  August pushed away from the glass, turning his head to break their eye contact. "He … he wrote me a song!"

  Morana laughed, throwing her head back and opening her mouth wide. "A song? Well, how lovely. ‘Summer Dream,’ right? Not true love, not forever yours, no, ‘Summer Dream.’ Because that couldn't be about anyone, could it? Tell me, if it's such a great and powerful honor, such a definitive show of his truth and wholeness, his love for you, August …" Once again she caught and held his gaze, and his eyes refused to grant him the me
rcy of letting go, "… whom did he write the other fifteen songs for?"

  "Stop!" August hissed. "I know what you're trying to do and it's not going to work. You're not going to change my mind. Even if he doesn't love me, which he does, I fucking know he does, but even if he doesn't, I still love him. And I would happily travel through hell for him if I have to."

  Morana lifted an eyebrow. "Would you?" She stepped an inch closer to the glass. "Would you really, August?" Her voice softened, taking on an almost melodic tone. "Because I could make sure, you know. We could make sure that he never strayed, that he never turns you away. I could make him love you forever."

  "You can't make someone love you."

  "Ah, but you're wrong. You think it shouldn't be so, I know. But these men aren't like you and I, August. Not even one as powerful as Anton believes that he is. I own him. Through careful, controlled manipulation I made him love me because I made him need me. And I can do the same with you and Doren. Every Queen needs a Magistrate she can trust—one with enough power and control to be her hand when she can't reach, to be her eyes when she can't see, to be her other self when she can't be there. Together we could rule this place. We could make every man worship us and every woman serve us."

  August waved her away, walking backwards. The woman was trying to get into his head. And the only way to play that game back was to volley with the same steps. "I don't want servants, Morana, I only want Doren."

  "And I promise him to you," Morana said, the glee sharpening her voice. "I'll even do you one better, August." She stepped another inch closer. "I will let you destroy Anton. I know you hate him. I know he disgusts you. And with Doren's power working with mine, with your skills making both of ours unconquerable, we won't need him. I promise you, boy, I will let you force that evil man to his knees and make him beg you for mercy. However you want it, he will be yours to do as you will."