The Boy Who Cried Wave.

*:･°✧* 𓆝 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝 ˚｡⋆ 𓇼𓆟 *✧*:･°

Wayne opened his eyes to the distant dripping of water. The last thing he remembered was the bone-rattling music, champagne, the sweet scent of women’s perfume, and dancing until his feet went numb. Now, he couldn’t see a damn thing. Not because he was blind, but because his hands were bound behind his back, a cloth gagged his mouth, and a rough sack had been pulled over his head.

For the first time that night, Wayne was completely sober. He struggled, trying to break free as a firm grip roughly held him down.

“Careful, pretty boy,” a deep voice said.

“Don’t want to break a nail,” another added, as they broke into laughter. 

He listened carefully, and there were three voices. Three men.

But the problem wasn’t how many. It was how big they were. Two of them held him firmly in place. He could feel the muscles in their arms every time he struggled. Great. He was kidnapped by human refrigerators.

Wayne pushed his tongue against the gag in his mouth. After several humiliating attempts, it finally slipped free. The taste made him recoil. It tasted just like aluminium foil that had been soaked in someone’s dirty socks.

Disgusting. 

He cleared his throat. “Listen to me. I don’t care who sent you. I don’t care why. Whatever they offered you, I can double it,” he said proudly.

The men exchanged confused glances but remained silent.

“Okay. I’ll triple it.”

Still no word from them.

“Listen, I have money. A lot of it. So name your price. We can negotiate.”

But at this point, even the crickets had gone quiet. Cooperate. That was his safest option, but not his only.

“HELP!!” Wayne screamed at the top of his lungs. “Someone… help me!!”

“Gag him, would you,” one of the men said.

“I can’t find the cloth.” The other person added. 

Wayne continued to struggle. Maybe he could break free. Maybe he could escape their clutches, run away and get help, but he was wrong. Before he could make another sound, a punch landed on the side of his face, knocking him unconscious.

The next time he woke up, the rough sack had been removed, revealing his bloodied nose. His eyes darted between the three men before him. He was right. They were huge. Tattoos of the same patterns trailed their shoulders down to their hands. Were they part of a cult? Were they going to skin him alive?  His gaze landed on a fourth man sitting before him. Old. Grey-haired. And scruffy. The closer he got, the stronger the smell of fish became.

The man leaned closer and Wayne flinched.

“Calm down.” He held a phone towards him. “You’ve got a call.”

“W…who is it?”

“Take it and find out.”

With shaky hands, Wayne picked up the phone. He cleared his throat. “Hello…”

“Wayne, it’s me. Your grandmother.”

“GRANDMA…” Wayne cried, a wave of relief washing over him.

“I’ve been kidnapped.” He took a quick glance at the men. “I tried negotiating, but they wouldn’t listen. Quick, give them what they want so they can let me go.”

“Wayne, honey. Relax.”

“Grandma, you don’t understand. I think they work for the mafia,” he whispered as the man stared at him in disappointment.

“No, honey, they don’t.” She exhaled. “Wayne, they work for me. I sent them to kidnap you.”

“What!!” His voice nearly destroyed the phone speaker. “Why would you do something like that, what were you thinking?”

“Will you shut up, you spoiled brat,” she yelled back. He recoiled from the sheer volume of her voice. “You are twenty-four. How long will you keep acting like a child?”

“Is it because I flew to Monaco without your permission? But you know it was my birthday.”

“No, Wayne.” She paused. “I’ve sheltered you to the point where you’ve become immature. You need to learn to handle responsibility.”

Wayne’s grip tightened around the phone. He couldn’t understand whatever she was saying, all he could think of now was to cry and beg. It has always worked, nor wouldn’t be any different. 

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” His voice came out almost like a whimper. “I’m cold, tired, and hungry. And my nose hurts.” He winced the moment his fingers touched his nose tip.

“Wayne.” She sounded stern. “I’m sure you’ve met Duncan by now. He’ll explain everything you need to know.” She hung up. 

“Hello… Grandma?” 

The man snatched the phone from his grasp. Wayne stared at him in disbelief, his shoulders squared. The audacity he had.

“Where is this Duncan? And is he the one arranging for my ride back home?”

The old man stared at him. “I am Duncan. And there is no ride back home.”

Wayne lifted a brow. “ I don’t understand.” 

Duncan’s lips curved. “Let me clear things up. There is no arrangement and you’re not leaving here. Your grandmother sent you here to work. And I’m your new boss.”

Wayne’s eyes darkened. He couldn’t believe his ears. This had to be some kind of sick joke. But why wasn’t the man before him breaking character? “I don’t understand. What do you mean I’ll be working here?” he asked, but it was clear the man before him wasn’t listening.

“I would have shown you around town, but it’s late.” Duncan stood. “Rest. Because tomorrow, the real work begins.”

Wayne tried to make sense of the words that came out of Duncan’s mouth.  Work? Rest? Rest where? Here? He looked around. He was in some sort of cabin. Small, old and painfully ugly. It looked nothing like a place someone of his caliber should sleep in.

“Don’t tell me I’ll be spending the night here?”

“Sleep well, you’ll need it.” Duncan slammed the door shut.

Wayne grabbed his blond hair. How the hell was he going to survive here?

As he stood in the middle of the room, his mind replayed his grandma’s words. A part  of him was expecting her to swing through the door with a bright smile across her face and tell him it’s a prank, but the door stayed shut. Only a few hours ago, he was in a suite with a view of the harbor and champagne on ice. Now, he had walked into his now supposed bedroom which had something that looked like a mattress but felt like lying on a plank instead and only one window.

Wayne shook his head. This was a mistake. Surely his grandma was going to realise it. He knew her more than anyone. Before morning, he was certain she was going to storm in here and get him out herself. But with every hour that went by, his hope decreased. He counted to a hundred. Then again. Somewhere past the third hundred, he stopped listening for her footsteps and started listening to the silence, and that was worse. 

Twenty-four years of people answering when he called. He opened his mouth to call out, then closed it. There was no one to call. Fine, if she wanted him miserable, he’d be miserable. He sat on the edge of the thin mattress, still wearing his ruined party clothes. His wrists were still red from the ropes used to bind him and he decided he was going to hate every minute of this. If his grandmother wanted proof that she had sent him to the wrong place, he was definitely going to give her plenty.

*:･°✧* 𓆝 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝 ˚｡⋆ 𓇼𓆟 *✧*:･°

The first thing Wayne heard was the obnoxious crowing of a rooster. He opened one eye, then immediately shut it. He desperately wanted to go back to sleep, but unfortunately, the smell of fish ruined that hope.

“Wake up. It’s time for work,” Duncan said calmly, then made his way toward the exit.

Wayne groaned. “It’s only seven.”

Duncan halted. “If I tell you one more time…”

“Arghh!” He groaned, rolling his eyes. “Okay okay. I’m up.” 

He held the outfit Duncan provided for him with two fingers, brows furrowing deeply. It was grey, dull, and lifeless. The complete opposite of what he was used to wearing. The worst part was, they smelled just like Duncan. He hurriedly threw them on, and he could already feel his skin reacting to them. In no time, they were at a fish market.

“This is where you’ll be working.”

Wayne stared as people in green aprons moved around, carrying buckets of gutted fish, while others hauled a couple of fish caught in a net. They looked happy. What was so great about catching fish? 

One of the men walked past him and he nearly gagged from the smell. His gaze darted toward the sign. “Duncan’s fish market.”

“What is this place?” he asked. 

“Elizabeth told me you were smart. I guess she was wrong.”

Wayne let out a dry laugh. Even an ordinary fisherman was looking down on him now. He had not walked far when a red-haired girl called out to them. 

“There you are.” She had a plain unimpressed expression when she looked at Wayne. 

“Wayne.” Duncan gestured. “This is Nessa, my granddaughter.”

He looked between them. Truly, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Duncan continued. “She’ll be your supervisor henceforth.”

Wayne shook his head. There was no way in hell he would work under anyone. He held his hand out, a grin playing on his face. “Nice to meet you, Nessa. You should smile more.”

Her brows furrowed. “And you should talk less.”

His smile disappeared, and that’s when he realized she was going to be a handful.