The buzzing sound of a light hung above your head. Everything was still dark around you but you could hear footsteps walking around you. They were slow and firm, and you could somehow tell how dangerous they sounded. You were panting hard under the bag that was blocking your vision, your bonded hands were sweaty, and your heart hammered in your chest painfully. The silence was deafening, adding to the pressure of the moment. You had no idea where you were, who took you, and what was going to happen to you. You wanted to cry or beg for your life. Yet, you could not find the strength to speak up. Then, someone finally talked.

"You're going to answer our questions truthfully," the voice sounded rough, deep, and you recognized a British accent. It was the voice of a man and it sounded firm, a certain authority laced that voice. "If you lie, my friend behind you is going to take care that you're never going to lie to us again." There was a moment of silence before you heard a quiet step behind your back. You could feel a massive presence behind you, one that gave you chills down your back. "Are we clear?" The voice pressed on. Even under the bag, you could feel the powerful glares in your direction.

The words refused to come out of your mouth so you only nodded. It seemed to satisfy the man who was pacing in front of you. "Good. Name?" You opened your mouth and in a trembling voice, you revealed your full name. You were on the verge of tears. You had just arrived in London with a hopeful heart and ended up somewhere you had no idea, your life in the hands of total strangers, ones that could play with as they wished. "What were you doing outside earlier?"

"I was... I was just going to Tesco to get food... I-I'm sorry if I got in your way, I just," you tried to explain your case but the man did not let you finish.

"Do you know why you were brought here?" He continued his question instead. He stopped moving and you could feel him hover over you.

You shook your head as tears began to well in your eyes. "No, I have no idea! I just arrived in London today! Please, let me go! I'll say nothing to the police!" You tried desperately to beg for your life to be spared.

The man scoffed above you and placed a gloved hand on your shoulder. From here, you could smell the strong scent of cigars on him. "I'll decide that," he said. He stayed there, the hand on your shoulder tightening slightly. He opened his mouth to speak again but muffled shouts stopped him.

"Price!" A voice called out as a door was slammed open.

"Gaz for bleedin' fuck! Donnae run 'round with yer injury!" Another loud voice with a Scottish accent came along with the first voice called 'Gaz'.

The man above you let out a heavy sigh as he pulled away. You could hear his footsteps as he turned around to face the two people behind him. "Gaz, stay in the infirmary. We're taking care of this."

"No, wait! Price, they have nothing to do with all this! They're a childhood friend! They just happened to pass by when they saw me!" The man explained quickly and now it clicked inside your brain.

"Kyle? Kyle, is that you?" You asked in a trembling voice while your tears rolled down your cheeks. "What's happening, Kyle? Am I going to die?"

You heard another sigh and the gruff voice from earlier spoke up again. "Ghost, get the bag off them," he ordered someone in the room, the one behind you, you guessed.

Suddenly, the bag was off. It took you time to adjust to the light around you and you blinked a few times until you could see properly again. The binds around your hands were removed and you could finally relieve your sore wrists and arms. Once your vision was clear, you were met with this black British man from earlier.

"Hey... I'm sorry about all that. Are you, okay?" Kyle asked in a soft voice, a kind smile plastered on his face.

Without thinking, you threw your arms around him and cried all the tears in your body. You didn't care that you had an audience, what mattered was that the nightmarish situation was finished. You hoped. "What was all that? I thought they were going to kill me," you cried out as you held tightly onto him.

He placed a hand on your back and rubbed it up and down. "Yeah, I'm sorry... It was only safety procedures. You're fine now, you'll get out."

A clear of a throat caught both of your attention. You looked up at a tall man with a beard and a buckle hat. He wore a shirt that was tight on his body, the top buttons on his chest - hairy from what you could tell from the first two opened buttons - were ready to pop off and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His black pants looked tight on him as well. Overall, you could tell how strong he was with his muscular figure, especially when his biceps flexed when he crossed his arms over his chest. "Not to break this adorable reunion," he said in a slightly ironic tone, "we can't just let them free without knowing they can keep their mouth shut."

Kyle pulled away from the hug and stood up from his kneeling position with a wince. He held his side which was neatly wrapped in bandages. That was then that you finally noticed he was shirtless. He had changed a lot since you last saw him. His muscles were well-defined, and it was a shame that his abs were hidden behind the bandages. Yet, he was still the prettiest person you ever met, it had not changed ever since you were children. You remembered how much you admired his beauty when you were younger, back in middle school. Maybe it was more than just admiration then but love was hard to figure when you were young. "We can't keep them here, boss. They're a civilian."

"I know. But we can't exactly let them on the loose and rat us out to the cops," the man whose name you caught earlier, Price, further explained with a frown.

"In that case," a third voice spoke, the one with a Scottish accent. He was wearing a black shirt, half-opened and rolled up to his elbows, and black pants. Like the other men, he was very muscular and you could see tattoos on one of his arms. His dark brown hair was quite unique with this mohawk - not many would dare to wear that nowadays - and his blue eyes were captivating. "We can jus' 've someone surveyin' 'em."

The older-looking man of the three passed a hand through his beard as he thought about it. "We could do that."

"Wait, what? What about my privacy?" You butted in. You were not about to let them do as they want freely.

"Sorry, mate," the Scottish man said with an apologetic smile. "Ye got yerself tangled up in some messy business. Cannae let ye loose. Promise we won't look when ye're in the bathroom."

Kyle apologized to you with his eyes once you met his gaze. Price spoke up again. "We won't overstep your boundaries too much. Just checking where you go and so on. Ghost and Soap would be on your case."

" Soap and Ghost ?" You repeated with an eyebrow raised. What kinds of names were that?

"That'd be me, Soap. N' Ghost's here," the Scottish man explained and pointed to another person behind you.

When you turned around, you saw a mountain of a man with his back leaned against a wall, arms crossed over his chest. He was dressed head to toe in black and his face was hidden behind a skull mask. The intensity of his gaze on you brought a shiver down your spine. It was the person who was standing behind you earlier. He had not spoken a word yet and remained contemplative of the scene before him.

"Alright, now that introductions were made, you should head home." Price offered his hand so you could stand up. "Boys, escort them home."

"Got it, boss." Soap stood by your side once you were up. Kyle tried to take a step towards you so he could join in but he was stopped immediately by Mohawk who placed a hand on his chest. "Donnae think ye should move, Gaz. Ye're 'bout to open up yer wounds 'gain. Doc won't be happy."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Yeah... I'll talk to you soon. Promise." He placed a hand on top of your head as if he sealed the promise to see each other again.

"Alright. I hope to see you soon."

Despite everything, Kyle was still Kyle. You could tell he was still the same boy he was when you were younger but with more stories hidden in the different scars littered on his body. You could not wait to meet up with him again.

......

The ride home was silent. The two bulky men made it difficult for you to be comfortable. The man named Soap was singing to the music that was playing so it wasn't exactly silent, but it was still intimidating. You wished he could shut up though. His voice was not horrible but you had enough of his attempt to sing high-pitched songs.

Relief washed over your face when you saw your accommodation. You stepped out quickly of the car once Soap stopped the car. "Thanks for bringing me back," you thanked them with a wave of your hand.

"No problem, Bonnie. Donnae hesitate to keep in touch, aye? Ye'll see us 'round anyway." He winked in your direction before he rolled the window up. You saw Ghost's face turning to face the Scot once they were alone and Soap just shrugged his shoulders with a smirk. Then, they drove away.

"What the hell does 'bonnie' mean?" And what was that look they shared? You tilted your head to the side as you watched the expensive car distancing itself from you.

What a strange group.