Page 81 of His Every Move

I dropped my phone onto the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. I’d been stupid to think that one phone call would magically fix everything. But still, the motivation to help my mother, to help myself—it solidified into something solid inside my chest. A promise. I wasn’t going to become like her. I’d make the program work. And when I came out the other side, stronger and clearer, I’d help her, too.

With a heavy sigh, I rolled out of bed and went to get dressed. My cock had softened completely—nothing like family drama to kill the mood. My thoughts turned to Eli. It’d been nearly half an hour since my text, and still no reply.

A strange prickling ran down my spine. Auditions could take a little bit of time, but there was probably more time spent waiting than actually auditioning. He should have seen my text. Sent me a quick update.

I grabbed my phone, shot another quick message.

Brushed my teeth, pulled on some shorts. I refilled Lucky’s water bowl. Went to check my phone. Still no reply.

Something felt wrong. Deeply wrong. He must have left close to two hours ago. I could be overreacting, but what was the alternative? Lie in bed and wait around while Eli could have been in serious trouble?

That’s when I noticed Eli’s laptop, still open on the small hotel desk. I approached, glancing over the email he’d left open. The audition details were vague—too vague. A hot flash of anxiety rippled through me, my instincts suddenly screaming louder than ever. The location—downtown, in a seedy office building—felt completely off for any reputable casting call.

My pulse quickened, pounding like a drumbeat in my ears.

Fuck. Eli had walked straight into a trap.

Grabbing my keys, I bolted from the room, the address seared into my memory.

* * *

The building loomed above me like a crusted and gray giant, rising high toward the cloudy sky. It didn’t look as abandoned as the image I’d seen on the street view. There were even a couple of well-dressed actors walking out, still holding the lines they auditioned with.

That put me more at ease. This likely was just an overreaction.

A second thought crossed my mind: what if Eli was just fine and found me chasing him down? What if he thought I was stalking him? This was purely just for his protection, but I could see how the optics would get twisted.

The last thing I wanted to do was scare him away. Shit. I should turn back around. Give him some more time. He mentioned how it sounded like it was for a big project. What if I ruined his chances at his dream role because I made a bad judgment call and barged in there?

I started to turn around. He was going to know I looked at his computer. Read the email. Wasn’t that a break in the trust and guidelines we set up just the night before?

And still, something tugged at the corners of my psyche.

Don’t leave him. Just check.

I couldn’t risk it. He’d understand if I was wrong, and if I wasn’t…

I threw open the warped wooden door, the hinges screeching loudly in protest. Inside, the smell of dampness and decay assaulted me, the hallway stretching out before me like a sinister maze.

The rooms appeared to all belong to casting companies, which was another good sign. I almost turned around, but my feet carried me forward.

Second door on the right. It was cracked open. I pressed an ear against the door. It was completely silent. Odd. I’d think there would at least be some conversation happening. Or that I’d be able to hear Eli reciting his lines.

But then I did hear something. A pained and elongated moan. Eli.

Was it part of the audition? Could he be acting as if he were hurt?

Fuck it. I had to check. Had to make sure.

I cracked open the door. No one shouted at me to shut it. I peeked inside.

There he was, sprawled out on the dirty concrete floor, barely stirring. There was a camera, but it wasn’t even pointed at him. The tripod had the camera aimed at a wall.

No. This wasn’t right. I barreled inside, running to Eli, falling to my knees next to him. I lifted his head. His eyes fluttered open and had a difficult time focusing on mine.

“Benji…?” he slurred weakly, eyes glassy. “What, uh, what’s going on?”

“I’m here, Eli. It’s alright. We’ll?—”