This is your one and only warning: This story is rated mature. Therefore, there will be explicit language and scenes.

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Nina Mcleod sighed with relief as the toilet door behind her closed discreetly and she stepped out into the hotel lobby and made her way to the lift. She would not have been able to hold it in any longer.

Sixteen hours of pampering the cast on a movie set were not good for her bladder. Sixteen hours of pampering them for three weeks in a row without a day off were not good for her physical and mental health. Her feet were hurting, her shoulders were tense, her fingers ached from a long day at work.

So today, she had treated herself to a Big Mac to go on her way back. With extra cheese and pickles. No fries, just a bottle of water. Because she craved comfort, being away from home. It was sitting in the little paper bag clasped in her left hand, smelling delicious. But it would wait until she was back in her hotel room. If she pigged out, she wanted to savour it.

One more day and she could pack up her stuff and go back home, the booking would be over and she could take a well deserved day off. She was sore from deep tissue-massaging, pedi- and manicuring, exfoliating, moisturising and de-hairing people's bodies all day. At least she didn't have to lug her equipment around. That was safely locked away in the dressing room the production company had provided for her.

She adjusted her handbag, the smell of the food making her mouth water as she pressed the call button and patiently waited for the lift in the almost deserted lobby. The clock above the reception desk showed half past twelve. Food, then a hot shower and bed, that was exactly what she needed. She watched the numbers count down, when she heard footsteps on the polished marble floor. Someone stopped a bit behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder and shot the person a quick smile. It was a guy wearing jeans with holes, a t-shirt and a leather jacket. All designer. The majority of his shiny, shoulder length dark hair was covered in a beanie. His eyes were hidden behind expensive looking sunglasses, he had flawless skin and was scratching his well groomed beard with slender fingers. A man who took care of himself.

Probably someone famous, an actor or an influencer, she decided, as she quickly scanned the master disguise of pretty much every celebrity on the East Coast. She turned her head back to watch the numbers counting down to the ground floor.

The lift arrived and the ding that announced the opening of the doors resounded loudly through the now empty reception hall. Nina quickly got in, hit the button to her floor and shuffled to the right. The guy pressed a button for a few floors above her, and the doors slid close. As she leaned her head back, closing her eyes for a moment, she could feel the gentle vibrations of the lift as it started to ascend.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang, the lift coming to an abrupt stop.

The gentleness was gone and replaced by vigorous shaking from side to side. An earthquake.

Shocked, Nina dropped her paper bag and clung onto the handrails. The light flickered on and off. She heard a "Shit!" next to her as the shaking continued.

Sweat beads formed on her forehead. Not from heat, but from fear, her heart beating frantically in her throat. The metal surrounding them loudly protested and groaned, before it went still for one agonisingly long second.

She looked at the guy opposite her, not able to see his eyes, but his expression must have mirrored hers: horror, panic. Her hands frantically grabbed onto the handrail. The light flickered once more, then it was pitch black.

And then the cabin plunged.